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Full text of "The California scrap-book : a repository of useful information and select reading. Comprising choice selections of prose and poetry, tales and anecdotes, historical, descriptive, humorous, and sentimental pieces, mainly culled from the various newspapers and periodicals of the Pacific coast"

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Useful Information and Select Reading. 









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Entered according to Act of Congress, in iLejear 1SC9. 


In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United States for the District of 




tins VOLUMK is 




THE following work is the result of the compiler 1 s glean 
ings for his own Scrap- Book for a number of years past. 
It contains over two hundred articles, upon a multitude of 
subjects, the greater part of which emanated from the pens 
of California writers. It is, for this reason, called the 

In the selection of these articles, the compiler has exer 
cised great care, giving the date and authority in all cases 
when known ; and in preparing the work for the public, 
he. has at every step been influenced by one motive a 
determination to make the volume a valuable work of 
reference to professional and literary men, and an accept 
able companion in the family circle, not only in California, 
but wherever it may find its way. 

The compiler desires to express his thanks to Messrs. 
cisco, for valuable assistance rendered him in the prepara 
tion of this volume. 

0. T. S. 

SAN FHANCISCO, November, 18G8. 



Address of Starr King at San Joaquin Valley Fair 104 

Address of Hon. Joseph W. Winans before the State Agricultural Society. 313 

Agriculture in Italy Geo. P. Marsh 161 

Irrigating Canals at the Old Missions 458 


A Lost World 45 

America, Artistic Evidences of a remote Colonization of Dr. Gibbons. . . . 629 

America, First Inhabitants of 254 

Ancient half-civilized Indians in California A. S. Taylor 399 

Archaeology of North America Edinburgh Review 655 

Arizona, Remains of a former Civilization 310 

Pre-Historic Remains of the Mississippi Valley De Haas 647 


Bent, Lieut., discovers Gulf Stream of the Pacific 434 

Burbank, John, Eulogy on Oscar T. Shuck 257 

Clay, Henry; National Men of America Gen. Shields 103 

Fremont and Sloat Edmund Randolph 326 

Gibbes, George, Hard-working California Author 165 

Jackson, Andrew; National Men of America Gen. Shields 102 

Kino, Founder of Arizona 261 

Law, John, Sketch of his Mississippi Scheme 252 

National Men of America : Clay, Jackson, and Webster Gen. Shields 102 

Santa Anna, his Remarkable Career 406 

Schoolcraft, Henry R 460 

Serra, Junipero, Founder of California 26 

Sloat, Commodore, Report of the Pioneer Society on his Death 514 

Sloat, Commodore ; Fremont and Sloat Edmund Randolph 326 

Smith, the Mormon Leader 543 

Stockton. Commodore. Reminiscences of 60. ! 

Vanderbilts, The, Early Incidents, &c 616 

Webster, Daniel ; National Men of America Gen. Shields 102 


A Beautiful Country, Southern California 264 

Amazon, The Valley of the 167 

An Artist s Dream of the Future of California By Rev. John Auderson, 

quoted in Rev. T. Starr King s Address 120 


A Rainy Day in the Sierra Buttes 327 

Azore Islands. Description of the " Mark Twain" 121 

California, a Rhapsody 383 

Dead Sea of California, Mono Lake 171 

Death Valley 41 1 

Ganges, Great Canal of the Wm. II. Bryan 4G2 

Great Earthquake of New Madrid, Missouri 330 

Hawaiian Islands, Description of the 333 

Meadow Lake, Sketch of Hon. F. Tilford 358 

Mono Lake, the Dead Sea of California 171 

Night Scene near Mount Shasta 46p7 

Picture of California in Spring Time Rev. T. Starr King 47 

San Joaquin Valley 490 

Shoshone Falls of Idaho 507 

Tahoe Lake, Graphic Description of 497 

"Wonders of the Coral Reefs J. F. Bowman 516 

Yosemite, a Trip to, A Lady s Account of 550 

Zodiacal Light as seen in California 578 


California, seen through a Geologist s Eyes 50 

Geological Formation of the River Amazon 546 

Geological Survey of California 492 

Geology ; A Lecture Prof. J. D. Whitney 265 

Geology of the Globe 41 2 


Anniversary of the Arrival of the Steamer California 176 

Anniversary of the Bear Flag 270 

Anniversary (88th) cf the Foundation of the San Francisco Missions 60 

Bay of San Francisco, Discovery of the 60 

California. Aboriginal Inhabitants of Jacob Baegert 128 

California, Early Cities of 354 

California, Earthquakes in, prior to ]8G4 Dr. Trask 274 

California, Expulsion of Jesuits from, 1767 A. S. Taylor 417 

California, Kotzebue s Visit to 469 

California, Prices in, 1849 494 

California, The Old Giants of 486 

California, War in, in 1846 270 

Charge of the Light Brigade S. C. Massett 58 

Franciscan Order, The G2 

Interesting Event in California History 67 

Loss of Steamer San Francisco 471 

Oregon Territory, How it was saved to the United States 133 

Origin of the Western Prairies M. Leo Losquereus 179 

Origin of Names of Days of the Week 279 

Pioneer Overlariders of 1841 1 80 

Presidents of the United States, with List of all Defeated Candidates 555 

San Francisco, Patron Saint of. Gl 

San Francisco Twenty Years ago (1848) 606 



Tin Mines, The, How they were Discovered 472 


A Drove of Bulls Harper s Magazine 1 84 

Amusing Experiment on Rats 652 

Great Oratorical Feat 495 

Lines Suggested by Reading Mark Twain s Letters from Pallistyrie J. F. 

Bowman 636 

Mining Jury Dinner 281 

Model Report of a Mining Engineer 357 

Recipes for Making Poetry 135 

To the Loadstone of my Life 651 

The Pliocene Skull Frank Bret Harte 430 

The Vulture After Edgar A. Poe 532 

Touching Tribute to Woman 653 

Westernisms Col. McClure 558 


Antidote for Poison 143 

Antidote for Poison-Oak Dr. C. A. Canfield 41 

California Wines Matthew Keller 137 

Commerce of the World 70 

Cryptograph Table 72 

Difference in Time between Old and New Style Thos. Tennent 577 

Do Metals Grow 282 

Gulf Stream, The 432 

Gulf Stream of the Pacific, The 434 

How to Get Rich Geu. John Bidwell 518 

Japan, Its Resources 521 

Mathematics, An Easay upon Professor C. T. Leonard 185 

Mosaics, How They Are Made 297 

Nose Bleed 557 

Secret Writing with Cryptograph Table 72 

Underground Streams Geo. A. Shufeldt 5G1 

Useful Plants, The Number of. 435 

Uses of Mountains John Ruskin 641 

Valuable Table, A 364 

Wandering Jew, The 5G7 

Wind, Force and Velocity of 548 


A Queer Old Rhyme 197 

A Verbal Whimsey 199 

Curiosities of the English Language 199 

Matrimony 197 

The Lord s Prayer . 198 


Discovery of Gold in California 76 

First Gold Mine, The 436 

First Gold Mining in California 83 

Gold Digging in time of Queen Elizabeth 525 



Mines in England, Depth of 568 

Quartz Mining in Ancient Egypt 144 

Quartz Mining Two Thousand Years ago 209 

Silver in Use among Men, Amount of Dr. P H. Yan Der Weyde 367 


Speech of E. R. Highton, Esq., on Benevolence and Christian Enterprise. . 141 

Speeches of Captain Oliver Eldridge 584 

" Hall McAllister, Esq., 585 

" Ex-Governor Leland Stanford 590 

" Rev. Dr. A. L. Stone, and 592 

" Rev. Horatio Stebbins, at the 595 

Great China Mail Banquet, at San Francisco, Dec. 31, 1866... . 584 

Speeches of Wm. Lane Booker, British Consul 244 

" Hon. Newton Booth 240 

" " Anson Burlingame 229 

" " Delos Lake 223 

" " Edward Tompkins 238 

" Governor H. II. Haight 228 

" General H. W. Halleck, and 226 

Embassador Chili Ttijen, at the 234 

Chinese Embassy Banquet, at San Francisco, California, 1868.. 219 
Address of Hon. Newton Booth, at the Mechanics Fair, at San Francisco. 370 
Addresses of Gov. Leland Stanford, and Hon. A. M. Crane, at the Inaugura 
tion Ceremonies of the Great Pacific R. R., Sacramento. 301, 304 

" Rev. T. Starr King, at San Joaquin Valley Fair, in 1862 104 

" Hon. Joseph "W. Winans, before the State Agricultural Society 

at Sacramento 313 

Oration of Colonel E. D. Baker, on the Atlantic Cable, at San Francisco, 

Sept., 1858 17 

Oration of Rev. J. A. Benton, at fifth Commencement Exercises of College 

of California, 1868 284 

Extract from Oration of Edmund Randolph, before California Pioneers, 

San Francisco, 1 860 326 

Conclusion of Oration of Hon. John B. Felton, at the Dedication of New 

Mercantile Library Building, San Francisco, 1868 439 


Apostrophe to Water Paul Denton 85 

A Midsummer Night Herbert C. Dorr , 294 

California, A Poem Bayard Taylor 437 

Child Land Lyman R. Goodman 444 

Cleopatra W. W. Story 212 

Dirge for the Beautiful 520 

Dried Wild-Flower in an old School-Book, Lines on a 75 

Glimpses Emilie La wson 540 

Home Pictures Belle W. Cooke 548 

Katie Lee and Willie Gray 560 

Mary Brown L. F. Wells 481 

Requiem of the Year Hon. Joseph W. Winang -535 



Rosalie Colonel B. F. Washington 378 

Santa Margarita Annie A. Fitzgerald 635 

Sic Yita 625 

Song of Edward Pollock W. H. Rhodes 30 

The Beautiful Goethe 482 

The Fair Tarnbourinist Lyman R. Goodman 145 

The Filial Feeling Chas. Lamb 579 

The Parting Hour Edward Pollock 575 

The Ruby Heart E. R. Sill 502 

The Soldier s Farewell . 511 

The Sweet-BrierMary Viola Tingley 582 

Tranquillity 603 

Vacation Chas. Warren Stoddard 649 


A Continent covered with Ice Prof. Louis Agassiz 216 

Final Fate of the Universe 87 

Medical Topography and Epidemics of California Dr. Thos. M. Logan. . . . 295 

Peaks, Parks, and Plains of Colorado Professor Powell 380 

San Francisco Earthquakes Dr. John A. Veatch 476 

The Milky Way 438 

Why it Rains E. C. Kemble 31 


An Incident in the Life of a Miner 580 

Origin of Day and Martin s Blacking 501 

The Eye of the Commander: A New Year s Legend of Spanish California 

Frank Bret Harte 89 

Thrilling Adventure with a Burglar 440 

The Indian Woman s Love : A Tale of Oregon A. Delano 618 


A Brief History, in Three Parts, with a Sequel 645 

An Historical Beauty 510 

A Mountain View 642 

A Toad Undressing Audubou 513 

Atlantic Cable, The ; A Poem John R. Ridge 483 

Big Waves 293 

Brook-Trouting 217 

California 383 

California Children Bayard Taylor 480 

California Poets 480 

California Scenery 442 

California; Reminiscence and Capabilities By A. Delano (" Old Block"). . 146 

California, Climate of . 643 

California, Ancient Mint of. 299 

California, Early Scenes in > 504 

California, Mountains of 384 

Casserly, Hon. Eugene, Letter of, read at Chinese Embassy Banquet, San 

Francisco 236 

China Mail Banquet 584 



Chinese Embassy Banquet .219 

City by the Golden Gate, The Ina D. Coolbrith 473 

Closing Scene, The Thos. Buchanan Read 693 

Cry of a Lost Soul John G. Whittier 392 

Cricket, The 638 

Curious Optical Effect 1 60 

Disunion A Poem written in 1858 Edward Pollock 599 

Discoveries 486 

Earthquakes in the Interior 386 

Earthquake Waves on the Pacific 386 

Existence or Life Rev. T. Starr King 390 

Gold in the World, Bulk of 391 

Golden Hegira. The 487 

Happy Christian Home Rev. Dr. Eells 541 

Job a Printer 64 1 

Knights of the Quill 245 

Life Rev. Dr. Chas. Wads worth 443 

Lines on an Autopsical Examination 638 

Mission of Teachers Geo. W. Minns 601 

Nevada: A Poem Joseph T. Goodman 405 

No Baby in the House Clara Dolliver 545 

On the Beach John Swett 654 

Our Baby 439 

Pacific Railroad, Inauguration Ceremonies 300 

Philosopher on Love, A Ralph Waldo Emerson 308 

Power of Sea-Breakers 246 

Prayer of Sir Robert Peel 631 

Remarkable Escapes of Eminent Men . 247 

Remarkable Masonic Incident 100 

Remarks on Hell Henry Ward Beecher 249 

" Salatia" W. A. Kendall 640 

Scout Boat on the Look-out , . ( 393 

Significant Names 394 

Shrubbery about the Homestead . 615 

Spiritualism, Professor Faraday upon 632 

Stirring Thoughts Rev. M. C. Briggs , 153 

Tamalpais Chas. Warren Stoddard 443 

The East and the West Theodore Winthrop 65 

The Famous Mississippi Scheme . 252 

The Miner John Swett _ 605 

The Chandos Picture Edward Pollock 98 

Three Words of Strength Schiller 653 

Volcanic Eruptions 388 

Wonderful Case, A 395 

Wonders of the World, One of the Seven Unearthed - 309 

Yosemite, Lecture on Rev. T. Starr King 446 

Zodiacal Light of California . 573 


Agassiz, Professor Louis. 
Anderson, Rev. John. 
Audubon, John James. 

Baegert, Jacob. 
Baker, General E. D. 
Beecher, Rev. Henry Ward. 
Benton, Rev. J. A. 
Bidwell, Hon. John. 
Blake, Professor W. P. 
Booker, William Lane. 
Booth, Hon. Newton. 
Bowman, J. F. 
Briggs, Rev. M. C. 
Bryan. William H. 
Burlingame, Hon. Anson. 

Canfield, Dr. C. A. 

Casserly, Hon. Eugene. 

Clemens, Samuel ("Mark Twain ). 

Coolbrith, Ina D. 

Cooke, Belle W. 

Crane, A. M. 

De Haas, W. 

Delano, A. ( u Old Block"). 

Denton. Paul. 

Dolliver, Clara. 

Dorr, Herbert C. 

Bells, Rev. James, D. D. 
Eldridge, Captain Oliver. 
Emerson, Ralph Waldo. 

Faraday, Professor M. 
Feiton, lion. John B. 
Fitzgerald, Annie A. 

Gibbons, Dr. 

Goodman, Joseph T. 
Goodman, Lyman R. 

Haight. Governor H. H. 
Hal ieck, General II. W. 
Harlow, Dr. John M. 
Harte, Frank Bret. 
Higgins, S. G. 
Highton, E R. 

Keller, Matthew. 
Kemble, E. C. 
Kendall, W. A. 
King, Rev. T. Starr. 

Lake, Hon. Delos. 
Lamb, Charles. 
Lawson, Emilie. 
Leonard. Professor C. T. 
Logan, Dr. Thomas M. 
Losquereus, M. Leo. 

Marsh. George P. 
Massett, Stephen. 
McAllister, Hall. 
McClure, Colonei. 
Minns, George W. 

Pickett, C. E. 
Pollock, Edward. 
Powell, Professor. 

Randolph, Edmund. 
Read. Thomas Buchanan. 
Rhodes, W. H. 
Ridge, John R. 
Ruskin, John. 


Shields, General James 

Shuck, Oscar T. 

Shufeldt. George A. 

Sill, E. R. 

Stanford. Governor Leland 

Stebbius, Rev. Horatio. 

Stoddard, Charts Warren. 

Stone, Rev. Di. A. L. 

Svvett, John. 

; Tajen, Chili." 
Taylor, Alexander S. 
Taylor, Bayard. 
Tennent, Thomas. 
Tilford, Hon. F. 
Tingley, Mary Viola. 
Tompkins, Edward. 
Trask, Dr. 

Van Der Weyde, Dr. P. H, 
Veatch, Dr. John A. 

Wadsworth, Rev. Dr. 0. 
Washington, Colonel B. F. 
Wells, L. F. 

Whitney, Professor J. D. 
Whittier, John G. 
Winans, Hon. J. W. 
Winthrop, Theodore. 


Alta California. 
Daily Evening Bulletin. 
Daily Herald. 
Daily Evening Mirror. 
Daily Times. 
Morning Call. 
Daily Examiner. 
California Chronicle. 
Dramatic Chronicle. 
Democratic Press. 
The Occident. 
The Pacific. 
The News Letter. 
Spirit of the Times. 
Mining and Scientific Press. 
Overland Monthly. 
The Golden City. 
Weekly Mercury. 
Pioneer Magazine. 

Sacramento Daily Union. 

State Capital Reporter, Sacramento. 

Mountain Democrat, Placerville. 
Sierra Citizen, Dowuieville. 
Santa Cruz Sentinel. 
Stockton Independent. 
Placerville Index. 
Oakland News. 
Los Angeles Star. 
Santa Barbara Gazette. 
San Rafael Journal. 
Yreka Union. 
Colusa Sun. 
Sonora Democrat. 

Territorial Enterprise, Virginia, Xev. 
Reese River Reveille, Austin, Nev. 
Humboldt Register, Unionville, Nev. 
Old Pah Utah, Washoe City, Nev. 

Oregon Statesman. 
Boise News. 

New York Herald. 

New York Sun. 

New York Tribune. 

New York Journal of Commerce. 

New York Evening Post. 

American Journal of Mining. 

Scientific American. 

Harper s Magazine. 

Homans Bankers Magazine. 

Frank Leslie s Chimney Corner. 

Rochester Union. 
Boston Traveler. 
Boston Transcript. 
Chicago Tribune. 
Rural Register. 
Pittsburgh Dispatch. 
Colorado Register. 
Atlantic Monthly. 
St. Louis Democrat. 

All the Year Round. 
Black wood s Magazine. 
Illustrated London News. 
Frazer s Magazine. 
Edinburgh Review. 

Paris Temps. 



"PTT P 1 
1x1 rj 



ELLOW-CITIZENS : Amid the general joy 
I that thrills throughout the civilized world, we 
are here to bear our part. The great enterprise 
of the age has been successfully accomplished. 
Thought has bridged the Atlantic, and cleaves 
its unfettered path across the sea winged by the lightning 
and guarded by the billow. Though remote from the shores 
that first witnessed the deed, we feel the impulse and swell 
the paean ; as in the frame of man, the nervous sensibility 
is greatest at the extremity of the body so we, distant dwell 
ers on the Pacific coast, feel yet more keenly than the com 
munities which form the centers of civilization, the great 
ness of the present success, and the splendor of the advan 
cing future. 

The transmission of intelligence by electric forces is per 
haps the most striking of all the manifestations of human 
power, in compelling the elements to the service of man. 
The history of the discovery is a monument to the sagacity, 
the practical observation, the inductive power of the men 
whose names have become famous and immortal. The 
application to the uses of mankind is scarcely less wonder 
ful, and the late extension across a vast ocean, ranks its 
projectors, and accomplishes with the benefactors of their 
race. We repeat here to-day the names of Franklin, and 


Morse, and Field. We echo the sentiments of generous 
pride, most felt in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, at 
the associated glory of her sons. But we know, that this 
renown will spread wherever their deeds convey blessings 
to the human race, that like their own works it will extend 
beyond ocean and deserts, and like these works, will re 
main to late and successive generations. 

The history of the Atlantic Telegraph is fortunately 
familiar to most of this auditory. For more than a hun 
dred years it has been known that the velocity of electricity 
was nearly instantaneous. It was found that the electricty 
of the clouds, and that produced by electric excitation, 
was identical ; next followed the means for its creation, 
and the mechanism of transmission. Its concentration was 
found in the corrosion of metals in acids, and the use of the 
voltaic pile ; its transmission was completed by Morse in 
1843, and it was reserved to Field to guide it across the 
Atlantic. Here, as in all other scientific results, you find 
the wonder-working power of observation and induction ; 
and nowhere in the history of man is the power of Art 
action, directed by Science knowledge systematized so 
signally and beautifully obvious. I leave to the gifted 
friend who will follow me, in his peculiar department, the 
appropriate description of the wonders of the deep seaway ; 
of the silent shores beneath ; of sunless caverns and sub 
marine plains. It is for others to describe the solitudes of the 
nether deep. Yet who is there whose imagination does not 
kindle at the idea that every thought which springs along 
the wires vibrates in those palaces of the ocean where the 
billows cease to roll and light fails to penetrate \ 

"From the dark, unfathomed caves of ocean 1 the pearl 
that heaves upon the breast of beauty is dragged to the 
glare of day. There, the unburied dead lie waiting for 
the resurrection morning, while above them the winds wail 
their perpetual requiem ; there the lost treasures of India 
and Peru are forever buried ; there, the wrecks of the 
Armada and Trafalgar are forever whelmed. 

What flags and what trophies are floating free, 
In the shadowy depths of the silent sea ! 


But amid these scattered relics of the buried Past, over 
shell -formed shores and wave- worn crags, the gleaming 
Thought darts it way. Amid the monsters of the deep, 
amid the sporting myriads and countless armies of the sea, 
the single link that unites two worlds, conveys the man 
date of a king or the message of a lover. Of old, the Greek 
loved to believe that Neptune ruled the ocean, and 
stretched his trident over the remotest surge. The fiction 
has become reality ; but man has become the monarch of 
the wave, and his trident is a single wire ! 

Fellow-citizens : The scene in which we each bear a part 
to-day is one peculiar, it is true, to the event which we 
celebrate ; but it is also very remarkable in many and 
varied aspects. 

Never before has there been on the Pacific coast such an 
expression of popular delight. We celebrate the birthday 
of a nation with signal rejoicing ; but vast numbers who 
are here to-day can find no place in its processions, and 
perhaps wonder at its enthusiasm ; we celebrate great vic 
tories, which give new names to our history and new stars 
to our banner these are but national triumphs ; but to 
day, the joy is universal ; the procession represents the 
world all creeds, all races, all languages are here ; every 
vocation of civilized life mingles in the shout and welcomes 
the deed. The minister of religion sees the Bow of Promise 
reflected under the sea, which speaks of universal peace ; 
the statesman perceives another lengthening avenue for the 
march of free principles ; the magistrate can see here new 
guards to the rights of society and property, and a wide field 
for the spread of international law ; the poet kindles at the 
dream of a great republic of letters tending toward a uni 
versal language and the star of science finds a pledge 
that individual enterprise may yet embody his discoveries 
in beneficent and world-wide action. 

The mechanic walks with a freer step and a more con 
scious part, for it is his skill which has overcome the 
raging. sea and the stormy shore; and labor, toil-stained 
and sun-browned labor, claims the triumph as his own in 
a twofold right. First, because without patient enduring 


toil, there could be neither discovery, invention, applica 
tion, or extension ; and again, because whatever spreads 
the blessings of peace and knowledge, comes home to his 
hearth and his heart. 

Surrounded, then, as I am by the representatives of all 
civilized nations, let me express in a few brief words some 
of the thoughts that are struggling for utterance upon your 
lips as you contemplate the" great event of the century. 
Our first conviction is that the resources of the human mind 
and the energies of the human will are boundless and 
illimitable ; from the time when the new philosophy, of 
which Francis Bacon was the great exponent, became 
firmly written in a fe"w minds, the course of human pro 
gress has been unfettered each established fact, each new 
discovery, each complete induction is a new weapon from 
the armory of truth ; the march can not retrograde ; the 
human mind will never go back ; the question as to the re 
turn of barbarism is forever at rest. If England were to 
sink beneath the ocean, she hath planted the germ of her 
thought in many a fair land beside, and the tree will 
shadow the whole earth. If the whole population of 
America were to die in a day, a new migration would re- 
people it ; not with living forms alone, but with living 
thought, bright streams from the fountains of all nations. 

Oh ! Science, thou thought-clad leader of the company of 
pure and great souls, that toil for their race and love their 
kinds, measurer of the depths of earth and the recesses of 
heaven ! Apostle of civilization handmaid of religion- 
teacher of human equality and human right perpetual wit 
ness for the Divine wisdom be ever as now, the great 
minister of peace let thy starry brow and benign front still 
gleam in the van of progress, brighter than the sword of the 
conqueror, and welcome as the light of heaven ! 

The commercial benefits to accrue to all nations from in 
stantaneous communication are too apparent to permit much 
remark ; the convenience of the merchant, the correspond 
ence of demand and supply, the quick return of values, the 
more immediate apprehension of the condition of the world, 
are among the direct results most obvious to all men ; but 


these are at last mere agencies for a superior good, and are 
but the heralds of the great ameliorations to follow in the 
stately march. 

The great enemy of commerce, and indeed of the human 
race, is war. Sometimes ennobling to individuals and 
nations, it is more frequently the offspring of a narrow 
nationality and inveterate prejudice. If it enlists in its 
service some of the noblest qualities of the human heart, it 
too often perverts them to the service of a despot. From 
the earliest ages, a chain of mountains, or a line of a river, 
made men strangers, if not enemies. Whatever, therefore, 
opens communication and creates interchange of ideas, 
counteracts the sanguinary tendencies of mankind, and 
does its part to "beat the sword into the plowshare." 
We hail, therefore, as we trust, in the event we commemo 
rate, a happier era in the history of the world, and read in 
the omens attendant on its completion an augury of perpet 
ual peace. 

The spectacle which marked the moment when the cable 
was first dropped in the deep sea was one of absorbing 
interest, Two stately ships of different and once hostile 
nations, bore the precious freight, Meeting in mid-ocean 
they exchanged the courtesies of their gallant profession- 
each bore the flag of St. George, each carried the flowing 
stripes and blazing stars on each deck that martial band 
bowed reverently in prayer to the Great Ruler of the tem 
pest : exact in order, perfect in discipline, they waited the 
auspicious moment to seek the distant shore. Well were 
those noble vessels named the one Niagara, with a force 
resistless as our own cataract ; the other Agamemnon, "the 
king of men," as constant in purpose, as resolute in trial, 
as the great leader of the Trojan war. Right well, oh ! gal 
lant crew, have you fulfilled your trust ! Favoring were 
the gales and smooth the seas that bore you to the land ; 
and oh ! if the wish and prayer of the good and wise of all 
the earth may avail, your high and peaceful mission shall 
remain forever perfect, and those triumphant standards so 
long shadowing the earth with their glory, shall wave in 
united folds as long as the Homeric story shall be remem- 


bered among men or the thunders of Niagara reverberate 
above its arch of spray. 

It is impossible, fellow-citizens, within such limits as the 
nature of this assemblage indicates, to portray the various 
modes in which the whole human race are to be impelled 
on the march of progress by the telegraphic union of the 
two nations ; but I can not forget where I stand, nor the 
audience I address. The Atlantic Telegraph is but one 
link in a line of thought which is to bind the world ; the 
next link is to unite the Atlantic and Pacific. Who doubts 
that this union is near at hand ? Have we no other Fields? 
Shall the skill which sounded the Atlantic, not scale the 
Sierra Nevada? Is the rolling plain more dangerous than 
the rolling deep \ Shall science repose upon its laurels, or 
achievement faint by the Atlantic shore ? Let us do our 
part ; let our energy, long dormant, awake ! Let us be 
again the men we were when we planted an empire. We 
are in the highway of commerce ; let us widen the track 
one effort more, and science will span the world. While I 
speak, there comes to us, borne on every blast, from the east 
and from the west, high tidings of civilization, toleration 
arid freedom. In England the Jews are restored to all the 
privileges of citizens, and the last step in the path of reli 
gious toleration is taken. The Emperor of Russia has de 
creed the emancipation of his serfs, and the first movement 
for civil liberty is begun. China opens her ports, and com 
merce and Christianity will penetrate the East. Japan 
sends her embassador to America, and America will return 
the blessings of civilization to Japan. Oh ! human heart 
and human hope ! never before in all your history did ye 
so throb with promise for the race ; never before did }^e so 
rise to the inspiration of a prophet in the majesty of your 

Fellow-citizens : We have a just and generous pride in 
the great achievement we are here to commemorate. We 
rejoice in the manly energy, the indomitable will, that 
pushed it forward to success. We admire the skillful 
adaptation and application of the forces of nature to the 
uses of mankind ; we reverence the great thinkers whose 


observation swept through the universe for facts and events, 
and whose patient wisdom traced and evolved the general 
law. Yet, more than this, we turn, with wonder and de 
light, to behold, on every hand, the results of scientific 
method everywhere visible and everywhere increasing ; 
but, amid that wonder and delight, we turn to a still greater 
wonder the human mind itself ! Who shall now stay its 
progress ? What shall impede its career ? ISTo longer tram 
meled by theories or oppressed by the despotism of author 
ity grasping, at the very vestibule, the key to knowledge, 
its advance, though gradual, is but the more sure. It is 
engaged in a perpetual warfare, but its empire is perpet 
ually enlarging. No fact is forgotten, no truth is lost, no 
induction falls to the ground ; it is as industrious as the 
sun it is as restless as the sea it is as universal as the 
race itself. It is boundless in its ambition and irrepressible 
in its hope ! And yet, in the very midst of the great works 
that mark its progress, while we behold on every hand the 
barriers of darkness and ignorance overthrown, and per 
ceive the circle of knowledge continually widening, we 
must forever remember that man, in all his pride of scien 
tific research, and all his power, of elemental conquest, can 
but follow, at an infinite distance, the methods of the Great 
Designer of the Universe. His research is but the attempt 
to learn what nature has done or may do ; his plans are 
but an imperfect copy of a half-seen original. He strives, 
and sometimes with success, to penetrate into the workshop 
of nature ; but, whether he use the sunbeam, or steam, or 
electricity whether he discover a continent or a star 
whether he decompose light or water whether he fathom 
the depths of the ocean or the depths of the human heart- 
in each and all he is but an imitator of the Great Architect 
and Creator of all things. We have accomplished a great 
work ; we have diminished space to a point ; we have tra 
versed one-twelfth of the circumference of our globe with 
a chain of thought pulsating with intelligence and almost 
spiritualizing matter. But, even while we assemble to 
mark the deed and rejoice at its completion, the Almighty, 
as if to impress us with a becoming sense of our weakness, 


when compared with his power, has set a new signal of his 
reign in heaven. If, to-night, fellow- citizens, you will look 
out from the glare of your illuminated city into the north 
western heavens, you will perceive, low down on the edge 
of the horizon, a bright stranger, pursuing its path across 
the sky. Amid the starry hosts that keep their watch, it 
shines, attended by a brighter pomp and followed by a 
broader train. No living man has gazed upon its splendors 
before, no watchful votary of science has traced its course 
for nearly ten generations. It is more than three hundred 
years since its approach was visible from our planet. When 
last it came it startled an emperor on his throne, and while 
the superstition of his age taught him to perceive in its 
presence a herald and a doom, his pride saw in its flaming 
course and fiery train, the announcement that his own light 
was about to be extinguished. In common with the lowest 
of his subjects, he read omens of destruction in the baleful 
heavens, and prepared himself for a fate which alike awaits 
the mightiest and the meanest. Thanks to the present con 
dition of scientific knowledge, we read the heavens with a 
far clearer perception. We see, in the predicted return of 
the rushing, blazing comet through the sky, the ma*ch of a 
heavenly messenger along its appointed way and around 
his predestined orbit. For three hundred years he has 
traveled amid the regions of infinite space. "Lone wan 
dering, but not lost," he has left behind him shining suns, 
blazing stars, and gleaming constellations, now nearer to the 
Eternal Throne, and again on the confines of the universe. 
He returns, with visage radiant and benign ; he returns, 
with unimpeded march and unobstructed way ; he returns, 
the majestic, swift electric telegraph of the Almighty, 
bearing upon his flaming front the tidings that, throughout 
the universe, there is still peace and order that, amid the 
immeasurable dominions of the Great King, his rule is still 
perfect that suns and stars and systems tread their endless 
circle and obey the Eternal law. 

When Pericles, the greatest of Athenian statesmen, stood 
in the suburb of the Kerameikus, to deliver the funeral 
oration of the soldiers who had fallen in the expedition to 


Samos, he seized the occasion to describe, with great but 
pardonable pride, the grandeur of Athens. It was the first 
year of the Peloponnesian war, and he spoke amid the tro 
phies of the Persian conquest and the creations of the Greek 
genius. In that immortal oration he depicted, in glowing 
colors, the true sources of national greatness, and enumer 
ated the titles by which Athens claimed to be the first city 
of the world. He spoke of constitutional guarantees, of 
democratic principles, of the supremacy of law, of the free 
dom of the social march. He spoke of the elegance of pri 
vate life of the bounteousness of comforts and luxuries 
of a system of education of their encouragement to stran 
gers of their cultivated taste of their love of the beauti 
ful of their rapid interchange of ideas ; but, above all, he 
dwelt upon the courage of her citizens, animated by reflec 
tions that her greatness was achieved u by men of daring, 
full of a sense of honorable shame in all their actions." 

Fellow-citizens : In most of these respects we may adopt 
the description ; but if in taste, in manners, if in temples 
and statues, if in love and appreciation of art, we fall be 
low the genius of Athens, in how many respects is it our 
fortune to be superior ? We have a revealed religion, we 
have a perfect system of morality ; we have a literature 
based, it is true, on their models, but extending into realms 
of which they never dreamed. We have a vast and fertile 
territory within our own dominion, and science brings the 
whole world within our reach. We have founded an em 
pire in a wilderness, and poured fabulous treasures into the 
lap of commerce. 

But amid all these wonders, it is obvious that we stand 
upon the threshold of new discoveries, and at the entrance 
to a more imperial dominion. The history of the last three 
hundred years has been a history of successive advances, 
each more wonderful than the last. There is no reason to 
believe that the procession will "be stayed, or the music of 
its march be hushed ; on the contrary, the world is radiant 
with hope, and all the signs in earth and heaven are full of 
promise to the race. Happy are we to whom it is given to 
share and spread these blessings ; happier yet if we shall 


transmit the great trust committed to our care undimmed 
and unbroken to succeeding generations. 

I have spoken of three hundred years past dare I im 
agine three hundred years to come ? It is a period very 
far beyond the life of the individual man ; it is but a span 
in the history of a nation, throughout the changing genera 
tions of mental life. The men grow old and die, the com 
munity remains, the nation survives. As we transmit our 
institutions, so we shall transmit our blood and our names 
to future ages and populations. What multitudes shall 
throng these shores, what cities shall gem the borders of 
the sea ! Here all people and all tongues shall meet. Here 
shall be a more perfect civilization, a more thorough intel 
lectual development, a firmer faith, a more reverent wor 

Perhaps, as we look back to the struggles of an earlier 
age, and mark the steps of our ancestors in the career we 
have traced, so some thoughtful man of letters in ages yet 
to come, may bring to light the history of this shore or of 
this day. I am sure, fellow -citizens, that whoever shall 
hereafter read it, will perceive that our pride and joy is 
dimmed by no stain of selfishness. Our pride is for hu 
manity ; our joy is for the world ; and amid all the won 
ders of past achievement and all the splendors of present 
success, we turn with swelling hearts to gaze into the 
boundless future, with the earnest conviction that it will 
yet develop a universal brotherhood of man. 


^UNIPERO SERRA, the founder of the Missions, 
which were the first settlements of civilized man 
in California, was born on the Island of Majorca, 
part of the kingdom of Spain, on the 24th of 
November, 1713. At the age of sixteen, he be 
came a Monk of the order of St. Francis, and the 
new name of Junipero was then substituted for his baptis 
mal name of Miguel Jose. After entering the convent, he 


went through a collegiate course of study, and before he had 
received the degree of Doctor, was appointed lecturer upon 
philosophy. He became a noted preacher, and was fre 
quently invited to visit the larger towns of his native island 
in that capacity. 

Junipero Avas thirty-six years of age when he determined 
to become a missionary in the New World. In 1749 he 
crossed the ocean in company with a number of brother 
Franciscan Monks, among them several who afterward 
came with him to California. He remained but a short time 
in the City of Mexico, and was soon sent a missionary to 
the Indians in the Sierra Madre, in the district now known 
as the State of San Luis Potosi. He spent nine years there, 
and then returned to the City of Mexico where he stayed 
for seven years, in the Convent of San Fernando. 

In 1767, when he was fifty -four years of age, he was ap 
pointed to the charge of the Missions to be established in 
Upper California. He arrived at San Diego in 1769, and, 
with the exception of one journey to Mexico, he spent all 
the remainder of his life here. He died at the Mission of 
Carmel, near Monterey, on the 28th of August, 1784, aged 
seventy-one years. 

Our knowledge of his character is derived almost exclu 
sively from his biography by Palou, who was also a native 
of Majorca, a brother Franciscan Monk, had been his disci 
ple, came across the Atlantic with him, was his associate in 
the college of San Fernando, his companion in the expedi 
tion to California, his successor in the Presidency of the 
Missions of Old California, his subordinate afterward in 
New California, his attendant at his death-bed, and his near 
est friend for forty years or more. Under the circumstances, 
Palou had a right to record the life of his preceptor and 

Junipero Serra. as we ascertain his character directly and 
inferentially in his biography, was a man to whom his relig 
ion was every thing. All his actions were governed by the 
ever-present and predominant idea that life is a brief proba 
tion, trembling between eternal perdition on the one side, 
and salvation on the other. Earth, for its own sake, had 


no joys for him. His soul did not recognize this life as its 
home. He turned with dislike from nearly all those sources 
of pleasure in which the polished society of our age delights. 
As a Monk he had, in boyhood, renounced the joys of love, 
and the attractions of woman s society. The conversation 
of his own sex was not a source of amusement. He was 
habitually serious. Laughter was inconsistent with the 
terrible responsibilities of this probationary existence. Not 
a joke or a jovial action is recorded of him. He delighted 
in no joyous books. Art or poetry never served to sharpen 
his wits, lighten his spirit, or solace his weary moments. 
The sweet devotional poems of Fray Luis de Leon, and the 
delicate humor of Cervantes, notwithstanding the perfect 
piety of both, were equally strange to him. He knew noth 
ing -of the science and philosophy which threw all enlight 
ened nations into fermentation a hundred years ago. The 
rights of man and the birth of chemistry did not withdraw 
his fixed gaze from the other world, which formed the con 
stant subject of his contemplation. 

It was not sufficient for him to abstain from positive 
pleasure ; he considered it his duty to inflict upon himself 
bitter pain. He ate little, avoided meat and wine, preferred 
fruit and fish, never complained of the quality of his food, 
nor sought to have it more savory. He often lashed him 
self with ropes, sometimes of wire ; he was in the habit of 
beating himself in the breast with stones, and at times he put 
a burning torch to his breast. These things he did while 
preaching or at the close of his sermons, his purpose being, 
as his biographer says, "not only to punish himself but 
also to move his auditory to penitence for their own sins." 

We translate the following incident, which occurred dur 
ing a sermon which he delivered in Mexico, the precise date 
and place are not given : 

" Imitating his devout San Francisco Solano, he drew out 
a chain, and letting his habit fall below his shoulders, after 
having exhorted his auditory to penance, he began to beat 
himself so cruelly that all the spectators were moved to 
tears, and one man rising up from among them, went with 
all haste to the pulpit and took the chain from the penitent 


father, came down with it to the platform of the presbiterio, 
and following the example of the venerable preacher, he 
bared himself to the waist and began to do public penance, 
saying, with tears and sobs, I am the sinner, ungrateful 
to God, who ought to do penance for my many sins, and 
not the father who is a saint. So cruel and pitiless were 
the blows, that, in the sight of all the people, he fell down, 
they supposing him to be dead. The last unction and sacra 
ment were administered to him there, and soon after that he 
died. We may believe with pious faith, that his soul is 
enjoying the presence of God." 

Serra, and his biographer, did not receive the Protestant 
doctrine, that there have been no miracles since the Apos 
tolic age. They imagined that the power possessed by the 
chief disciples of Jesus had been inherited by the Catholic 
priests of their time, and they saw wonders where their 
contemporary clergymen, like Conyers, Middleton, and 
Priestly, saw nothing save natural mistakes. Palou records 
the following story, with unquestioning faith : 

When he [Serra] was traveling with a party of mission 
aries through the province of Huasteca [in Mexico], many 
of the villagers did not go to hear the word of God at the 
first village where they stopped ; but scarcely had the 
fathers left the place when it was visited by an epidemic, 
which carried away sixty villagers, all of whom, as the 
curate of the place wrote to the reverend father Junipero, 
were persons who had not gone to hear the missionaries. 
The rumor of the epidemic having gone abroad, the people 
in other villages were dissatisfied with their curates for 
admitting the missionaries ; but when they heard that only 
those died who did not listen to the sermons, they became 
very punctual, not only the villagers, but the country peo 
ple dwelling upon ranches many leagues distant. 

Their apostolic labors having been finished, they were 
upon their way back, and at the end of a few days journey, 
when the sun was about to set,- they knew not where to 
spend the night, and considered it certain that they must 
sleep upon the open plain. They were thinking about this 
when they saw near the road a house, whither they went 


and solicited lodging. They found a venerable man, with 
his wife and child, who received them with much kindness 
and attention, and gave them supper. In the morning the 
Fathers thanked their hosts, and taking leave, pursued their 
way. After having gone a little distance they met some 
muleteers, who asked them where they had passed the 
night. When the place was described, the muleteers de 
clared that there was no house or ranche near the road, or 
within many leagues. The missionaries attributed to Di 
vine Providence the favor of that hospitality, and believed 
without doubt that these hosts were Jesus, Mary, and 
Joseph, reflecting not only about the order and cleanness 
of the house (though poor), and the affectionate kindness 
with which they had been received, but also about the 
extraordinary internal consolation which their hearts had 
felt there." 

Serra s religious conviction found in him a congenial 
mental constitution. He was even-tempered, temperate, 
obedient, zealous, kindly in speech, humble and quiet. 
His cowl covered neither greed, guile, hypocrisy, nor pride. 
He had no quarrels and made no enemies. He sought to be 
a monk, and he was one in sincerity. Probably few have 
approached nearer to the ideal perfection of a monkish life 
than he. Even those who think that he made great mistakes 
of judgment in regard to the nature of existence and the 
duties of man to society, must admire his earnest, honest, 
and good character. Alia California, Oct. 31, 1862. 


EDITORS EVENING MIRROR : In looking through some 
old MSS., in my office, to-day, I accidentally stumbled on 
the following sweet little poem, by the late EDWARD POL 
LOCK. It was handed to me in the street, in 1856, and care 
lessly laid aside for future examination. In the hurry of 
events during the summer of that year, it was overlooked 
and forgotten. It now reappears, consecrated by the seal 
of death, and embalmed in its own beauty. 




YE stars that look on me to-night, 

How beautiful ye seem ! 
For I have found my spirit s light, 

The angel of my dream. 
Oh, never half so clear before 

Have I beheld you shine ; 
For heaven itself looks lovelier 

To lover s eyes like mine ! 

Alas ! I fear when silence waits 

To catch my voice in vain, 
The listener at your golden gates 

Will hear some other twain, 
Whose hearts, like ours, in melody 

Will sadly heave and sigh, 
To see how calmly you behold 

Humanity pass by ! 
& F. Mirror, September 29, 1860. 


HY does it rain ? So simple a question ought 
to be readily answered. We shall be sent to 
our school-books, may be, for presuming to ask 
it. But we shall not find, at least in the books 
of our school-days, an answer to the interroga 
tive, childish as it may be. We are in a widely 
different country and climate from that in which the major 
ity of our adult population studied the laws of the moist and 
dry weather, and there is a totally different application of 
their principles here from that of our old homes. Besides, we 
would not wonder if philosophy, always vague and uncer 
tain at best on this subject, had changed somewhat since the 
present generation were boys and girls, and new theories 
had supplanted old. It is of some moment to know pre 
cisely why it rains. If the coming of the rain be of any con- 


cern to the farmer and the miner, a simple knowledge of its 
causes whence it comes, and in obedience to what known 
laws may serve as the basis of information of immediate 
and practical value. It may lead to a better acquaintance 
with the laws of our climate, and possibly to improvement 
in the science of agriculture ; and since it has grown to be 
an admitted fact among intelligent minds that very many of 
the failures in the latter science in this country are attribu 
table to an imperfect knowledge of the proper seasons for 
setting out in the labors of the husbandman, an answer to 
our simple question may lead to the cure of many radical 

We know the rains have their allotted periods, that the 
comparative fall is so much per season, that the approach 
of rain is marked by sensible changes in the atmosphere, 
and it is very easy to note the direction from which the 
rain cometh, perhaps discern the face of the sky for the 
morrow. But here our weather wisdom stoppeth short. 
A week or two ago the temperature fell several degrees ; we 
had a cold spell, the sure premonition of rains, at this sea 
son of the year, notwithstanding the subsequent warmth. 
On Thursday last the first floods descended. The fetters of 
our winter, that is to say, the long dry season of parched 
and suspended vegetable life, corresponding to the period 
of its extinction under frosts and snows in our old homes, 
were broken, and spring commenced. In a few weeks we 
shall have grass green in our valleys and about our door 
yards. Before Christmas there will be peeping buds and 
blossoms in the favorite haunts of Flora in our lowlands. 

The prevailing winds which blow along our coast are 
from the westward. The discovery was valuable when first 
applied to man s use, over two hundred years ago. Then the 
commerce of this coast was limited to " one single galeon, per 
forming, annually, one voyage from Manilla and Acapulco, 
and back again." It was found that by steering north, the 
mariner would fall in with westerly winds, by which he 
would be wafted in sight of the California coast. In this 
way the voyage was sometimes made in fifty days, which is 
not far from the average duration of voyages in these days 


But the westerly breezes are not the only periodical winds 
which visit our shores. The summer climate of San Fran 
cisco, as well as all along our sea-coast, is marked by cool 
winds from a northerly direction. Their invigorating fresh 
ness is derived from their passage across a vast body of cool 
water making down toward our shores from the Arctic Sea ; 
very much in the manner of the Gulf Stream, though with a 
different temperature, along the coasts of England. Our 
westerly breezes are always charged with moisture, and 
distil the dews by which vegetation is nourished in our cool, 
summer nights. The lower temperature of the sea-coast 
precipitates this moisture more freely, causing it to roll 
inland in heavy banks of fogs, and sometimes to appear, in 
summer time, in showers of rain. Now, if we study the 
operation upon these prevailing winds, of the changes made 
in our seasons by the passage of the sun to the south, we 
may obtain a clue to the source of our winter supplies of 
rain. And in pursuit of our inquiry we shall probably find 
no author better capable of instructing us than Lieut. Maury, 
from whose last work we have within the last month or two 
drawn copiously for other facts in physical geography. 
But first, let us state the theory of the tc trades " and north 
west and southwest winds, as advanced by Maury, con 
densing our description from his own language. 

" From the parallel of about 30 degrees north and south," 
says this writer, u nearly to the equator, we have, extending 
entirely around the earth, two zones of perpetual winds, viz. : 
the zone of northeast trades on this side, and of southeast 
on that. With slight interruptions, they blow perpetually, 
and are steady and constant, except when they are turned 
aside by a desert here and there, to blow as monsoons, or 
as land and seabreezes. As these two main currents of air 
are constantly flowing from the poles toward the equator, it 
is assumed that the air kept in motion must return by some 
channel to the place toward the poles whence it comes, in 
order to supply the trades. The return currents are as 
signed to the upper regions of the atmosphere until they 
pass over those parallels between which the trade winds are 
always blowing on the surface. The rotation of the earth on 



its axis causes these direct and counter-currents to lag 
behind, as they now to or from the equator, and hence 
appear to move transversely across the globe, turning to the 
west as they go from the poles to the equator, and in the 
opposite direction as they move from the equator to the 
poles. The air from the direction of the poles presses 
toward the equator, traveling high above the surface of the 
earth, gradually drawing nearer (perhaps owing to the con 
vexity of the earth), until about the parallel of 30 degrees, 
when the two currents, northern and southern, meet, and, 
pressing heavily against each other, produce the calms north 
and south of the equator, designated as the calms of Cancer 
and Capricorn. The pressure gives a downward tendency 
to the atmosphere, and from under each of these banks of 
calms slips away, in the direction both of the equator and 
the poles, separate currents, denominated respectively N. E. 
and S. E. trades (toward the equator), and S. W. and N. W. 
passage winds, blowing toward the poles. At the equator 
a second meeting takes place between the currents which 
have started together from the poles ; this time on the sur 
face of the earth. Here, therefore, is another opposition of 
winds, and another calm belt. Warmed by the heat of the 
sun, however, and pressed on both sides by the whole force 
of the N. E. and S. E. trades, the column of air rises, and the 
same exchange takes place in the upper regions which we 
have seen occur at the surface in the two calm belts, the two 
currents continuing their course respectively north and 
south as before. At the poles, approaching more and more 
obliquely, from the spiral motion communicated by the 
earth, the particles of air rush together and are wheeled 
about each axis in a continued circular gale, by which each 
again ascends to upper regions and leaves beneath still 
another calm place at either pole." Such, briefly, is the 
theory of the motion of the earth s atmosphere, as given by 
our author. Now, as to the formation of clouds and the 
distributing process which is going on under the action of 
the winds : 

" When the northeast and southeast trades meet and pro 
duce the equatorial calms, the air, by the time it reaches the 


calm belt, is heavily laden with moisture, for in each hemi 
sphere it has traveled obliquely over a large space of ocean. 
It has no room for escape but in the upward direction. It 
expands as it ascends and becomes cooler ; a portion of its 
vapor is thus condensed, and comes down in the shape of 
rain. Therefore it is that under these calms we have a 
region of constant precipitation." But all the moisture 
which is taken up by the trades is not precipitated here. 
Borne off by the currents of the upper air, it is distributed 
in their course along the mountain tops of those great ranges 
which supply the mighty rivers of America, Europe and 
Asia. The rivers of our northern hemisphere, the Missis 
sippi for example, derive their supplies from the intertrop- 
ical regions of the South Sea, carried northward on the 
wings of the winds from the south pole. Their operation in 
concert with the rays of the sun is thus described : 

" Late in the autumn of the north, throughout its winter, 
and in early spring, the sun is pouring his rays with the 
greatest intensity down upon the seas of the southern 
hemisphere, and this powerful engine (the atmosphere), is 
pumping up the waters there for our northern rivers with 
the greatest activity. At this time the mean temperature 
of the entire southern hemisphere is said to be about ten 
degrees higher than the northern. The heat which this 
heavy evaporation absorbs becomes latent, and, with the 
moisture, is carried through the upper regions of the atmos 
phere until it reaches our climates. Here the vapor is 
formed into clouds, condensed, and precipitated. The heat 
which held this water in the state of vapor is set free, it 
becomes sensible heat, and it is that which contributes so 
much to temper our winter climate. It clouds up in winter, 
it turns warm, and we say we are going to have falling 
weather. That is because the process of condensation has 
already commenced, though no rain or snow may have 

Only about two-thirds of the northeast trade winds can 
flow over the ocean, on account of the greater body of land 
presented in the northern hemisphere, while the evapora 
ting surface exposed to the southeast trades is calculated to 


be about fifty millions of miles greater than in the north. 
Thus, two-thirds, only, of the northeast trade winds are 
fully charged with moisture, and only two- thirds of the 
amount of rain that falls in the northern hemisphere should 
fall in the southern. "And this," says Maury, "is just 
about the proportion that observation gives." Now let us 
see the application of these principles in bringing us on 
winter rains. 

The calm and trade wind regions, or belts, we are told, 
move up and down the earth annually, in latitude nearly a 
thousand miles, following the sun. The whole system of 
zones, viz. : of trades, calms, and westerly winds, goes with 
it. In the winter, the calm belt of Cancer approaches the 
equator, drawing with it the southwest winds. That is to 
say, the point at which these winds commence to blow is 
shifted by so many degrees farther south. During the 
summer, their influence lias been felt on the northern coast, 
in Washington Territory and New Caledonia. They are the 
southeast trades, which, ascending at the equator by the 
process we have described, are met by currents from the 
north in the calm belt of Cancer, and forced under, becom 
ing surface currents in their oblique progress toward this 
coast. They are the rain-carriers, charged with the warm 
liquid treasures of the South Sea. During the summer 
they have been busy in the vast and hilly region north of 
Puget Sound, though not with the same effect as when after 
ward brought into contact with our winter climate. In 
Oregon, however, it rains every month in the year, and five 
times more in the winter than in the summer months. The 
presence of these southwest rain winds, if not in actual 
showers, in heavy rolling fogs over the districts of New 
Caledonia, gives that country its peculiar climate, and may 
explain why Fraser River has so long baffled, with its high 
waters, the hopes of its late treasure- seeking visitors ; its 
source being high up among the hills where the air is cold 
enough to precipitate the moisture of the sea-breezes in the 
form of snow or rain. But the sun in his journey south 
ward, as we have noticed, takes with him, so to speak, the 
trades, calms, and westerly winds, and brings the latter to 


bear upon the coast of California, commencing as far down 
as the Gulf. "In winter and spring," says Maury, "the 
land in California is cooler than the sea air, and is quite 
cold enough to extract moisure from it. But in summer 
and autumn the land is the warmer, and can not condense 
the vapors of water held by the air ; so the same cause 
which made it rain in Oregon now makes it rain in Califor 
nia. As the sun returns to the north, he brings the calm 
belt of Cancer and the northeast trades along with him ; 
and now, at places where, six months before, the southwest 
winds were the prevailing winds, the northeast trades are 
found to blow. This is the case in the latitude of California. 
The prevailing winds, then, instead of going from a warmer 
to a cooler climate, as before, are going the opposite way. 
Consequently, if, under these circumstances, they have the 
moisture in them to make rains of, they can not precipitate 

Continuing the observations, we are taught the secret of 
the tropical seasons, and the movements of the equatorial 
calm belt, as follows : 

"Panama is in the region of equatorial calms. This belt 
of calms travels during the year, back and forth, over about 
seventeen degrees of latitude, coming farther north in the 
summer, where it tarries for several months, and then 
returning so as to reach its extreme southern latitude some 
time in March, or April. Where these calms are it is 
always raining, and the chart (vide Trade Wind Chart 
Maury s Wind and Current, 1 ) shows that they hang over 
the latitude of Panama from June to November ; con 
sequently, from June to November is the rainy season at 
Panama. The rest of the year place is in the region of the 
northeast trades, which, before they arrive there, have to 
cross the mountains of the Isthmus, on the cool tops of 
which they deposit their moisture, and leave Panama rain 
less and pleasant until the sun returns north with the belt 
of equatorial calms after him. They then push the belt of 
northeast trades farther to the north, occupy a part of the 
winter zone, and refresh that part of the earth with summer 
rains. This belt of calms moves over more than double of 


its breadth, and nearly the entire motion from south to north 
is accomplished generally in two months, May and June. 
Take the parallel of four degrees north as an illustration : 
During these two months the entire belt of calms crosses 
this parallel, and then leaves it in the regions of the south 
east trades. During these tw r o months it was pouring down 
rain on that parallel. After the calm belt passes it, the 
rains cease, and the people in that latitude have no more 
wet weather till the fall, when the belt of calms recrosses 
this parallel on its way to the south. By examining the 
Trade Wind Chart, it may be seen what the latitudes are 
that have two rainy seasons, and that Bogota is within the 
bi-rainy latitudes." 

The dry season in California is the wet season in the 
Mississippi Valley. The writer deduces that the springs 
and rills of the Father of Waters are fed from the same 
source that supplies our rivers, and refreshes our parched 
earth, viz. : the great boiler, or evaporating surface of the 
South Pacific. The winds coming from the southwest, and 
striking upon the coasts of California and Oregon in winter, 
precipitate here copiously. They then pass over the moun 
tains, robbed in part of their moisture. "Of course, after 
watering the Pacific shores, they have not as much vapor to 
make rains of, especially for the Upper Mississippi Valley, 
as they had in the summer time, when they dispensed their 
moisture in the shape of rains most sparingly upon the 
Pacific coasts." 

But there are climates on the Pacific, as well as in other 
parts of the globe, where rain never falls. The coast of 
Peru lies within this region. Many of our readers will 
have noticed, "going the rounds of the newspapers," the 
solution of the problem, "Why it never rains in Peru," 
borrowed, without acknowledgment of its authorship. It 
is a part of the same theory we have been rapidly sketch 
ing, and, as it seems fitly joined to the subject under notice, 
we reproduce it in the author s own words. It is necessary 
to observe that the coast of Peru is within the region of 
perpetual southeast trade winds : 

"The southeast trade winds in the Atlantic Ocean first 


strike the water on the coast of Africa. Traveling to the 
northwest, they blow obliquely across the ocean until they 
reach the coast of Brazil. By this time they are heavily 
laden with vapor, which they continue to bear along across 
the continent, depositing it as they go, and supplying with 
it the sources of the Rio de la Plata, and the southern tribu 
taries of the Amazon. Finally they reach the snow-capped 
Andes, and here is wrung from them the last particle of 
moisture that that very low temperature can extract. 

"Reaching the summit of that range, they now tumble 
down, as cool and dry winds, on the Pacific slopes beyond. 
Meeting with no evaporating surface, and with no tempera 
ture colder than that to which they were subjected on the 
mountain-tops, they reach the ocean before they again 
become charged with fresh vapor, and before, therefore, 
they have any which the Peruvian climate can extract. 
The last they had to spare was deposited as snow on the 
tops of the Cordilleras, to feed mountain streams under the 
heat of the sun, and irrigate the valleys on the western 
slopes. Thus we see how the top of the Andes becomes 
the reservoir from which are supplied the rivers of Chili 
and Peru." 

The other rainless, or almost rainless, regions are the 
western coasts of Mexico, the deserts of Africa, Asia, North 
America, and Australia. The dry season of California is 
the rainy season of Chili. 

We might continue these observations with equal pleas 
ure and profit to our readers through the beautiful and 
ingenious applications which the" author makes of his 
theory in establishing the laws of other climates, but we 
are reminded that we are not only widely trespassing upon 
space, but we are proceeding as though the facts we have 
related rested on mere assumption. Such is not the case, 
and nothing could be more unfair than a sketch of Maury s 
theory without reference to the arguments with which he 
hedges around and sustains his reasoning every step of the 
way. It is this, indeed, which gives his suggestions their 
weight and value. It is true, the system of the circulation 
of the winds and the sources of the rain, which we have so 


imperfectly outlined, is, after all, hypothetical, and it dis 
places in some cases other popular theories ; but it is safe 
to assert that none have ever been so complete or satisfac 
tory. And it is enough to know that Maury s philosophy 
is becoming gradually adopted among scientific men, and 
by none, so far as we have heard, have his positions been 

Such, briefly stated above, is the answer of modern 
science to our simple inquiry, Why does it rain ? Content 
with an explanation at once so simple, consistent and au 
thoritative, we have not pursued the inquiry into the 
causes of the winds on their circuits, or the wonderful 
system of exchanges at their places of meeting the upper 
currents stooping to kiss the ocean and the land, and pass 
ing on their way as surface breezes, uninterrupted to the 
next belt of calms. The process of two opposite winds 
passing each other is familiarly illustrated by the currents 
of air passing in and out of a chamber, through an open 
window or a chimney -Hue. But in justice to our author, 
we must observe that the laws of this exchange are confess 
edly not fully comprehended by him, though it is demon 
strated most satisfactorily that the passing of the great 
bodies of air on their way from the poles, twice at the 
surface of the earth and once (at the equator) in the upper 
regions, does take place. He suggests a difference in the 
magnetic condition of the winds flowing from the equator 
and the poles as the reason why the currents do not com 
mingle, but pursue their direction as surface winds on 
meeting at the northern and southern calm belts. If the 
w^hole expanse of the globe, from north to south and vice 
versa, were not passed over by the opposite winds, there 
would be a marked difference in the conditions of organic 
life in the northern and southern hemispheres, which would 
forbid the earth s inhabitants removing from one to the 
other. The whole of Maury s system of philosophy turns 
on the one grand idea of compensations. Beautifully has 
he followed out and illustrated the principles of this uni 
versal law. Well has he said, " The mind is delighted and 
imagination charmed by contemplating the physical ar- 


rangements of the earth from such points of view as this is 
which we have before us ; from it the sea and the air and 
the land appear each as a part of that grand machinery 
upon which the well-being of all the inhabitants of the earth, 
sea, and air depends ; and which, on the beautiful adapta 
tions that we are pointing at, affords new and striking 
evidence that they all have their origin in ONE omniscient 
idea, just as the different parts of a watch may be considered 
to have been constructed and arranged according to one 
human design."^. C. Sacramento Union, Oc 
tober, 1858. 


the woods and thickets of California, as well 
as on the dry hill-sides, and, in fact, in every 
variety of locality, may be found a very venomous 
shrub the "poison-oak" or "poison ivy;" the 
Medra of the Spanish people the dread of all 
those who are acquainted with it. This plant is known 
scientifically as follows : it belongs to the natural order 
Anacardiaceal, and is called Rlius diver saloba by Torrey 
and Gray ; Rims lobata, by Hooker ; and Rims toxi- 
codendron, by Hooker and Arnott. It is very similar 
to the poison ivy of the Atlantic States (R. toxicodendron 
Linnaeus), both in its appearance and in its poisonous qual 
ities. But it is unnecessary for me to describe it, even 
popularly ; for it is unhappily familiar to all, and I will 
only remark that, although generally a small shrub, the 
trunk sometimes attains the diameter of six inches, and the 
whole plant climbs over some large tree for support. The 
finest specimens that I have ever seen were in an oak and 
laurel grove, on the road south .of San Jose. 

I do not need to describe the cutaneous disease that is 
produced by contact with or approach to the poison-oak. 
And it is hardly necessary to advert to the fact that this poi 
son is the cause of a vast deal of misery and suffering in Cali 
fornia, and that there is scarcely ever a time in any little town 


or neighborhood when there are not one or more persons 
suffering from it ; and I venture the assertion that there are 
in this State constantly from five hundred to a thousand 

persons afflicted with this 
disease. Farmers and la 
borers are especially liable 
to this poisoning, and be 
sides the suffering and an 
noyance caused by it, the 
loss of valuable time is no 
small item to be taken into 
account. Truly he who 
makes known a prompt and 
sure antidote to this poison 
will be a public benefactor ; 
and this communication is 
made to the public with the 
confident expectation that 
the remedy here described will prove to be such benefac 

The remedies in use for the effects of the poison-oak are 
quite various, and some of them will cure the milder cases. 
Of all the common remedies, the warm solution of the sugar 
of lead has within my experience been productive of the 
best results. The water of am 
monia, warm vinegar and water, 
the warm decoction of the leaves 
of RJiamnus oleifalius ("Yerba 
del Oso, " of the California!!- Span 
ish), or even pure warm water, are 
sufficient sometimes to produce 
a cure. All these remedies are, of 
course, applied externally by way 
of washes to the parts affected. 

But the only remedy that 
I have found invariably suc 
cessful as an antidote for this poison, is an indigenous 
plant growing very abundantly in this vicinity (Monterey), 
and in other parts of the State. It is a tall, stout perennial, 


belongs to the composite family, and looks lika a small sun 
flower. It is from one to three feet high, has bright yellow 
flowers in heads one to two inches in diameter (and as I 
have said), like small sunflowers, flowering from June to 
October. Before flowering, the unexpanded heads or buds 
secrete a quantity of resinous matter, white and sticky, like 
balsam, that is iinally, after the flower expands, distributed 
over the petals, &c., of the flowers like varnish. The 
whole plant flowers, leaves, and all, is resinous and viscid. 
When it grows in dry hills, it is stiff and rigid, with nar 
row, thin leaves ; but in damp localities it is more robust and 
succulent, with wide, fleshy leaves. Its botanical name is 
Grindelia hirsutula and G. rolmsta ; but I have not been 
able to find more than one species, and all the different 
forms possess the same remedial virtues. 

The mode of using it is as follows : One may bruise the 
fresh herb and apply it by rubbing over the parts affected ; 
or, boiling it in a covered vessel, make a strong decoction 
of the fresh or dried herb, with which to wash the poisoned 
surfaces. Its remedial properties appear to be contained 
chiefly in the resin or balsam-like juice of the plant, which 
is particularly abundant on the surface. One application 
is sometimes sufficient for a cure ; but if the disease has 
been of long duration, several days will elapse before relief 
is obtained. This plant is a remedy for the poison-oak, 
used originally by the Indians of this vicinity, and by them 
its virtues have been communicated to the Spanish-Califor- 
nian people, who are now commencing to use it. 

I became acquainted with it in the following manner : 
A lady acquaintance of mine was poisoned in early youth 
by the poison-oak, and there resulted a cutaneous affection 
similar to "salt-rheum," fiery, burning, insupportable 
that would not yield to the remedies or the skill of good 
physicians. She underwent cauterization and blistering ; she 
took mercury and other powerful remedies, iodine, sarsa- 
parilla all to no purpose. Her hands were covered with 
deep ulcers, and her wrists and arms with an eruption that 
tormented her day and night. Nothing relieved her. She 
married in the mean time, and had a family of fine healthy 


children ; but she did not get rid of her affliction. At 
length, she, believing that the disease was not salt- rheum, 
nor any thing more or less than the effects of poison-oak, 
was induced to use the remedy that I have described, and 
a very few applications were sufficient to heal up the 
ulcers, and cure her entirely. She has never been troubled 
with any cutaneous eruption since that time, although 
several years have now elapsed. 

Her account of her case induced me to use the plant, 
which I have done frequently since with the happiest 
effects. One gentleman of my acquaintance who is very 
susceptible to the poison-oak, was poisoned on the face, 
hands, &c., and the disease did not yield to sugar of lead, 
hartshorn, warm lotions, or any other of the commonly 
used remedies. But a few applications of the decoction of 
Grindelia removed it entirely. It is said that when Fre 
mont was here with his soldiers, they camped on the flat 
below the town, among the poison- oak, and many of his 
men were badly poisoned. The trouble in many cases did 
not yield to the prescriptions of the physicians, and it was 
relieved only by using this remedy. But aside from rumor 
or hearsay, I am cognizant of six cases in which the effects 
of poison-oak have yielded to the Grindelia, when other 
remedies failed. NOAV it can not be said that the effects of 
the Grindelia, as stated above, were imaginary, or those 
cures accidental ; for the disease produced by the poison- 
oak is specific and sui generis, a cutaneous disease, palpa 
ble and severe, that is produced by a specific vegetable 
poison, and hence does not at all (as may be said of many 
other diseases) depend upon the imagination or moral state 
of the patient, either for its cause or cure. 

It may not be amiss to say, in conclusion, that the Grin 
delia is used also by the people of the country as a remedy 
for other cutaneous diseases that are characterized by heat 
and itching such as nettle-rash, salt-rheum, &c., but I 
have no means of knowing its effects in these diseases. 
Colbert A. Can field, M. D., in Santa Cruz Sentinel. 



past quarter of a century, disinterring from 
the dust of ages the hidden secrets of genera 
tions so long gone by, that the very names of 
many of the nations which once figured so 
conspicuously in the world s annals have per 
ished with them, has developed many strange 
facts with regard to ancient America. It would be strange, 
after all, if, instead of having " no past," " no antiquity," 
as has been alleged by her detractors, the continent dis 
covered by Columbus should prove to be the older of the 

Throughout its entire length and breadth traces have been 
discovered of a race, or rather of a world of people, who 
performed their part in the great life drama at so early an 
epoch that nearly every vestige of their existence must have 
disappeared centuries before the discovery of Columbus. 
The hardy Northmen who visited the Atlantic coasts as 
early as the fourth or fifth centuries, found them occupied 
by hostile races in such numbers as to repel every attempt 
to penetrate the interior ; the Northmen who made the first 
authenticated discoveries in the western hemisphere, in spite 
of the fact that Columbus has always received that honor, 
and who must still have been preceded by others, whose ac 
counts of the strange land they had visited, and the won 
ders they had seen, in the absence of corroboration, were 
received as fables by their countrymen. Had there been in 
those days such things as newspapers, the whole world 
would have learned of another continent. It would have 
been interesting in a historical point of view, as it would 
have developed the existence, and perhaps have preserved 
the record, of a number of nations, of which the last vestiges 
are now fading from the earth. 

Whatever may have been the origin of our aborigines, it 
is certain that large portions of what is now the United 
States, and of countries farther south, were inhabited by a 
numerous people, wearing comfortable clothing, and being 


somewhat advanced in the arts. Some of them, as those of 
Mexico and Central America, have left behind them vast 
ruins, proving that their cities were not unworthy of being 
ranked with the proudest of the olden time. 

Throughout the Northern country numerous traces of 
vanished people have been from time to time discovered, 
but fainter and less absolutely defined than those of the 
Aztecs showing conclusively the greater antiquity of the 
Northerners. The mound builders, indications of whose 
industry and engineering skill have been found by the 
archaeologist, Squires, scattered over the Middle and North 
ern States, must have been more numerous in their day 
than the enlightened people that have supplanted them, yet 
they have vanished so entirely from the scene of their 
earthly labors, that, unless we adopt the theory of retro 
gression, and accept the North American Indians and the 
Southern Aztecs as the last representatives of the ancients 
of America, we have not the slightest clue to them. 

The most remarkable circumstances in connection with 
these "people" are, that they left behind them no utensils or 
other implements, and that, in cases where records have 
been discovered, they were in an alphabet so unlike any 
thing ever before known (the tables of Copan and Palenque, 
for instance) as to defy all research. Traces there are of 
customs similar to those of the Asiatics traces of an iden 
tity of language, but all too vague and uncertain, as yet, to 
base a theory upon. It seems as though, at some far gone 
period of the world s history, Almighty Providence, as a 
punishment for its sins, had blotted at once from existence 
an entire world, whose very monuments mock the proud, 
vain, and glorious spirit which led to their erection. But 
there will, doubtless, arise persons competent to the task, 
who, from their knowledge of dialects and hieroglyphic 
writing, may yet succeed in clearing up this most wonderful 
and impressive of modern mysteries. 


the early part of May, a week after my arrival 
in California, I was invited by a gentleman in 
San Francisco to take a seat in his carriage for 
a " drive around the bay." This means around 
the Bay of San Francisco, which extends southerly 
about 50 miles from the Golden Gate, where the tides of the 
Pacific force their way inland. The bay is, therefore, a 
large salt water lake about eight miles broad, and six times 
as long. It is undotted with islands, and lies placid in the 
embrace of some of the richest lands of California, In mak 
ing the tour around it, we drive down along the narrow 
county of San Mateo, whose hills divide the dreamy bay 
from the billows of the Pacific, then across the county of 
Santa Clara, and up, on the eastern side, through Alameda // 
County to Oakland, where the ferry-boat returns us to the 
metropolis of wind and fog, whose climate in summer is / 
exhaustively stated in the phrase, "gust and dust." 

Early in May is the true time to make this excursion, for 
then the country is at the height of its brief bloom. Cali 
fornia has often been compared with Palestine and Syria for 
scenery. The passages in the Psalms and the New Testa 
ment which describe the fleeting beauty of the flowers and 
the grass, are certainly applicable here. " For the sun is no 
sooner risen with a burning heat, than it Avithereth the 
grass, and the flower thereof falleth, and the grace of the 
fashion of it perisheth." Indeed, there is no grass, properly 
speaking, native to the landscape. The green of early May 
on the uncultivated plains and slopes is mostly that of the 
wild oats. As the summer sun rises, and the rains cease, 
they ripen into a golden tinge, which, at a distance, is the 
hue of sand, and their seed drops into the parched and 
crackling ground for new crops when the rain returns. By 
the middle of June all the wild fields that are destitute of 
trees look sandy with this harvest of indigenous and self- 
sowed grain ; and it is only in May that the plains and hill- 


sides which the plowshare has not broken are clad in their 
vesture of embroidered green. 

But the beauty is as captivating as it is evanescent. Some 
travelers have written of the marvelous effect of the air of 
California on the spirits. Bayard Taylor tells us that, on 
this very drive, he felt, in breathing the air, like Julius Cse- 
sar, Milo of Cortana, and General Jackson rolled into one. 
I can not honestly say that the vivifying quality was any 
greater than I have experienced in the Pinkham woods, or 
the forests of Mt. Adams, or on the heights of Randolph. 
Oxygen is oxygen, and will Genera,! Jacksoriize a man as 
quickly in Coos County, New Hampshire, as when it blows 
over the Coast Range of California, fresh from the Pacific. 
But there was a great exhilaration in the first acquaintance 
with the scenery of a strange land, especially when made in 
a luxurious carriage, and with the accompaniment of pleas 
ant companions and a very spirited team. 

The first thing that arrested attention after leaving the 
; sandy streets of San Francisco was the flowers. Early in 
May, in New England, people hunt for flowers. A bunch 
of violets, or a sprig or two of brilliant color, intermixed 
with green, is a sufficient trophy of a tramp that chills you, 
damps your feet, and possibly leaves the seed of consump 
tion. Here they have flowers in May, not shy, but rampant, 
as if nothing else had the right to be ; flowers by the acre, 
flowers by the square mile, flowers as the visible carpet of 
an immense mountain wall. You can gather them in 
clumps, a dozen varieties at one pull. You can fill a bushel 
basket in five minutes. You can reap them into mounds. 
And the colors are as charming as the numbers are profuse. 
Yellow, purple, violet, pink, and pied, are spread around 
you, now in separate level masses, now two or three com 
bined in a swelling knoll, now intermixed in gorgeous con 
fusion. Imagine yourself looking across a hundred acres of 
wild meadow, stretching to the base of hills nearly two 
thousand feet high the whole expanse swarming with little 
straw-colored wild sunflowers, orange poppies, squadrons 
of purple beauties, battalions of pink and then the moun 
tain, unbroken by a tree or a rock, glowing with the investi- 


ture of all these hues, softened and kneaded by distance. 
This is what I saw on the road to San Mateo. The orange 
and purple seemed to predominate in the mountain robe. 
But on the lower slopes, and reaching midway its height, 
was a strange sprinkling of blue, gathered here and there 
into intenser stripes, and running now and then into sharp 
points, as if over the general basis of purple, orange, and 
yellow, there had fallen a violet snow, which lay tenderly 
around the base, but in a few places on the side had been 
blown into drifts and points. 

The wild poppy of California, in May, is the most fasci 
nating of all the flowers. It does not have a striped or 
spotty leaf, but is stained with a color which is a compro 
mise between a tea-rose and an orange, and is as delicately 
flushed and graduated in hue as a perfect rose. I never 
tire in studying their color, in masses or singly While 
driving to San Mateo, we came upon little clumps of them, 
springing out of the rocks on the edge of the road that over 
hangs the bay, and their vivid orange, upheld on graceful 
stems, and contrasted with the grey stones and the blue of 
the bay, gave me a joy which comes up as fresh while I 
write as when I saw it first. Another piece of cheer in 
trudes itself between my eyes and the paper, and insists 
that a note shall be made of it. I mean a California black 
bird, perched on a mustard-stalk ten feet high. The wild 
mustard grows luxuriantly on the lands at the foot of the 
bay. It is a great trouble to the fanners, for if the cows eat 
even a little of it and they seem to like it for seasoning- 
it gives a pungent flavor to the milk, and makes the butter 
bite. But a field of it in brilliant yellow is decidedly a 
pleasing condiment to the general feast of colors. And when 
a blackbird, with a large spot of scarlet on each wing, flutters 
over a tall spear of it, and then alights with a cheery twitter, 
one has a picture before him winch gives twofold delight 
by making him repeat the couplet of Holmes 

The crack-brained bobolink courts his crazy mate, 
Poised on a bulrush tipsy with his weight. 

If I quote wrongly, may the genial and always accurate 


Professor forgive me. I repeat from memory, and must 
wait till the Mameluke arrives from Boston with my books, 
before I can verify a dozen passages of his, which the 
California scenery sets to music again in my brain. 

And yet the old Californians, " forty-nine-ers," sigh 
when you speak in praise of the May -luxuriance around the 
bay. They say that the glory is over now. " Ichabod" is 
written on the landscape. They rode over the same districts 
when there were no roads, or ranches, or fences, between 
San Francisco and San Jose, and when the horses wallowed 
and galloped through an ocean of floral splendor. The visi 
tor can not help noticing, when he leaves the base of the 
mountains and comes to the farms, how civilization has tamed 
the land. The barley, and wheat, and bearded sweeps of 
simple green, look cool and unromantic in contrast with the 
natural coat of many colors which the unplowed districts 
wear. The brindled leopard has taken the hue of the cat. 
It is only when, here and there, we come upon a garden, and 
see the blaze of roses which bloom the year through, that we 
see how superior art is to nature. T. Starr King, in Boston 
Transcript, July, 1860. 



ROFESSOR BLAKE S subject was the " Phys 
ical Geography of California," not its paleon 
tology or mineralogy, note, which might have 
been dull, but the very thing that every intelli 
gent Californian aches to know the appear 
ance and peculiarities of our American Pacific slope, and 
how they came so. All this he treated in the quiet, easy 
method of one who knows what he talks about. His style 
is admirably simple and direct. The chiffonier of words 
could not have raked out a dozen unnecessary adjectives 
from the whole; the most industrious "boiler" of manu 
scripts could only "boil" it by omitting passages; the 


herd of thoughts could scarcely be corraled within fewer 
words without danger of their breaking the stockade. 

He opened with the suggestion, that perhaps we might 
turn with a sense of relief from the civil commotions of our 
country to the contemplation of some of those great natural 
laws under which we live, and from which there can be no 
secession. His topic was the anatomy and physiology of 
our State, which extends over nine and a half degrees of 
latitude, or six hundred and fifty miles as fur as on the 
Atlantic coast would reach from Boston to Savannah, and 
its area but little less than all New England, New York, 
New Jersey, and Pennsylvania put together. As the anat 
omist first disposes of the bony system of his subject, so 
the lecturer first considered the mountains of California. 
They are naturally separated into five groups the Sierra 
Nevada, the Coast Mountains, the Bernardino Mountains, 
the Peninsular Mountains, and the Mountains of the Great 
Basin. That the eye of the audience might assist the ear 
in comprehending the lay of the land and its character, a 
large map of the Pacific slope was displayed, on which the 
mountains were sketched in brick color, the valleys in yel 
low, and the water in blue ; and the general impression of 
the audience was that the brick color had the best of it 
that the mountains rule the State. The Sierra, extending 
nearly six hundred miles, from the northern boundary to 
the head of the Tulare Valley, has no well-defined towering 
summit line, but two or more parallel ranges of nearly 
equal altitude, forming a double summit; at the north, 
these summit ranges are usually some twenty miles apart, 
with elevated valleys between. Magnificent Shasta, at the 
sources of the Sacramento, is the most prominent peak, 
rising into the region of perpetual snows, 15,000 to 17,000 
feet above the level of the sea. It is an extinct volcano, 
and appears to belong rather to the Cascade Range than to 
the Sierra Nevada. Geologically, this chain, whose west 
ern face slopes long and gradually to the valley, but on the 
east stoops abruptly to the Great Basin, consists of granitic 
and metamorphic rock. The leading crests are a compact 
gray syenitic granite, flanked on the west by gneiss and 



slates down to the foot of the slope. These slates are the 
prevailing rock after descending from the higher parts of 
the Sierra. They are very ancient palaeozoic sedimentary 
beds, which have "been uplifted from the bottom of former 
seas and crumpled like so many leaves of a book, till their 
broad flat surfaces stand on edge, and the hot vapors escap 
ing from below have filled the cracks with quartz and gold. 
The lecturer paused to correct the absurd opinion that pre 
vails so widely, that the geological character of the country 
differs totally from that of any other region. Within the 
past month he had found high up on the slope of the Sierra, 
the out- crop of a sandstone, which is known the world 
over as characteristic of gold and diamond-bearing regions 
a peculiar rock which has been found in the Brazils, in 
the Urals, in India, and in the Atlantic States and under 
the lee of which diamonds are almost invariably found. 
The more modern strata of the Sierra have already been 
identified as of the same age as those of the East and the 
conclusion has been reached, that in the tertiary times the 
Pacific and Atlantic oceans were connected north of the 
tropic zone. Many of the eocene or early tertiary species 
of mollusks, found fossil at the southern end of the Sierra 
Nevada, are identical with those that existed at the same 
period on the former shores of the Apalachian, and are now 
dug up from the plantations of Georgia and Alabama, 

A much more modern system of mountains are the Coast 
Range or Ranges, for they are not one chief ridge as 
formerly supposed, but several, lying parallel with each 
other, with a series of long parallel valleys between. In 
our latitude there are three ridges the western, on which 
our city is enthroned, the central, or Contra Costa Range, 
and the eastern, or Diablo Range. There is a similar series 
at Monterey. The breadth of country occupied by the 
Coast Ridges and their valleys, varies from "forty to one 
hundred miles. Here and there we find a granitic axis and 
volcanic rocks, but their principal substance is composed 
of the tertiary and secondary formations. The strata are 
disposed in great wave-like flexures, and abound in fossils. 
They are the very paradise of palaeontologists. Here the 


lecturer diverted from his course to read the story that 
the new-found coal beds tell of the time when the Sierra 
Nevada fronted on the Pacific ; when there was no Coast 
Range like a great sea-wall outlying them ; when the rivers 
from the Nevada slope emptied directly into the sea, 
forming great deltas that supported luxuriant forests, now 
compacted and transmuted into coal ; and such he thought 
probably were the conditions of our region until the period 
of the pliocene tertiary. 

The characteristics of the Bernardino Range the south 
ern rim of the Great Basin more modern than the Sierras, 
yet far older than the Coast Ranges, and of the Peninsular 
Mountains that abut almost at right angles upon the Ber 
nardino and lift one perpetual ridge of jagged outlines, 
until at Cape St. Lucas they sink into the sea, were dis 
patched more briefly. The mountains of the Great Basin 
are all in parallelism with the Sierra, as are the Rocky 
Mountains. To the geologist, they seem only like a succes 
sion of folds in the strata or, as one might say, petrified 
wrinkles in the earth s hide. 

Mr. Blake next called attention to the connection between 
the direction of the mountain chains and the form and ex 
tent of the coast line. The rocky ranges, lying broadside 
to the sea, preclude it from cutting harbors into the coast, 
yet it is remarkable, the absence of those deep, precipitous 
inlets so characteristic of rock-bound coasts in high lati 
tudes. To the fact that there is one notable exception, we 
owe our matchless harbor. The Golden Gate, though not 
a fiord, is one of the most noteworthy breaks in a coast 
range known. There does not appear* to be any disloca 
tion, or sliding, or "fault" of the strata, but the Gate has 
more the appearance of a fissure widened by the currents. 
By the map he clearly showed by what a happy arrange 
ment the Bay of Monterey was .formed between the end of 
one long range and the side of another, and again at San 
Luis Obispo, how the Pacific excavates inland between the 
diverging ranges ; how the islands that lie parallel to the 
Santa Inez Range of the Bernardino are the peaks of a sub 
merged range, while the Santa Barbara channel occupies 


the subaqueous valley ; how the seven Farallones, all in one 
straight line, twenty miles off the Heads, are the crest-points 
of a range that takes to the water off Monterey. So the 
"bottom of our Pacific Sea, off many a mile, is all mountain 
and valley not like the Atlantic submarine slope, which 
falls off gently from the flat shore to the deep sea soundings. 

To round more perfectly our idea of the hydrography of 
the coast, Professor Blake pictured it as it would look 
lifted three hundred feet above its present level. Then the 
Farallones would stand out the peaks of a continuous 
range of mountains, on the eastern side of which would lie 
the harbor of Monterey. New islands would appear, the 
Bay of San Francisco would be drained, and the great 
rivers be prolonged through it and the Gate seaward. Then 
he sketched the vision that would be presented if the whole 
region were sunk five hundred feet below its present level. 
The Pacific would flood the Sacramento, San Joaquin and 
Tulare valleys. The hills of San Francisco would be sub 
merged. The Golden Gate would be widened two or three 
miles, with an occasional island rising here and there. The 
San Jose valley would be flooded, and the waters connect 
ing with those of the Bay of Monterey would leave the 
Santa Cruz and San Francisco mountains as islands lying 
parallel to the Contra Costa and Diablo ranges. Los Ange 
les would go under, and the Gulf of California Cortez s 
Vermilion Sea would push two hundred miles farther 
north. But this, instead of being a fancy sketch, was prob 
ably a true picture of California as it existed not long 
since speaking after the manner of geologists. That it 
was so is shown in many places, but nowhere so distinctly 
perhaps as at the upper end of the Tulare Valley, where 
hills of horizontal strata are HOAV strewn with the teeth of 
sharks, ten or twelve different species, all of which are be 
lieved to be still living in the adjoining ocean. The first 
recognition of the existence of the mackerel family in the 
Pacific was by Agassiz, from their teeth [which, we may 
add, the lecturer collected on these hills eight years ago]. 
Since then, the fishermen have brought in living specimens. 

The mountains settled, Professor Blake next took his 


audience to the valleys, which he disposed in four groups 
the low and broad valleys, whose extent makes plains of 
them, the elevated mountain valleys, the plateaux of the 
Great Basin, and the river valleys or canons. Among the 
first group is the great valley ]ying between the Sierra Ne 
vada and the Coast Range, its area over 16,000 square miles, 
more than the combined areas of Massachusetts, Rhode 
Island and Connecticut, We can not stop to reproduce, even 
"in little," the lecturers graphic picture of this valley, in 
which so much of New England might be cradled without 
cramping ; a valley that, except along the courses of the 
streams, and where its slope up the foot of the hills may be 
shaded with oaks, is treeless and even shrubless, its surface 
in the dry season parched and free from grass, its tempera 
ture by day rising often from 100 to 110 degrees, and the 
mirage constantly deluding the traveler along it. But his 
sketch of the Colorado Desert, which he included in his 
first group of valleys, we must not pass without remark. 
He pronounced it as fine a specimen of the desert as that 
of Libya or Sahara. It extends from the base of San Ber 
nardino southwesterly 180 miles, part of its surface being 
below our boundary line in Sonora. Its area is some 9,000 
square miles ; and excepting the Colorado, which cuts 
across its lower end, is without river or lake. It stretches 
off to the horizon on all sides without one glimpse of vege 
tation or life. Its surface is ashy and parched ; its frame 
of mountains rise in rugged pinnacles of brown rock, bare 
even of soil. Words are unequal to the task of describing 
its apparent expanses, the purity of its air, the silence of its 
night, the brilliancy of the stars that overhang it, the tints 
of the mountains at daybreak, the looming up of those 
beyond the horizon, the glare of the midday sun, the vio 
lence of its local storms of dust and sand. Parts are entirely 
destitute even of sand, being smooth, compact, sun-baked 
clay ; other parts are covered with heaps of sand, disposed 
like snow-drifts in waves of fifty or eighty feet in height. 
Near the mountains along the Colorado, there is a terrace as 
flat as a floor and paved with pebbles of nearly uniform, 
size, of porphyry, jasper, quartz, carnelian, and agate, all 


rounded by the action of water, and polished till they 
glisten, by the driving sand. In this respect, again, the 
porch of our Great Desert is like that which outlies the 
Lybian Desert. Doubtless the northern part of the desert 
is the dry bed of an ancient lake of fresh water, whose beach 
lines are strongly marked. Probably, at a comparatively 
recent period, the waters of the California Gulf covered all 
the clay surface of the desert. It lies below their level now, 
and if a channel were cut through the natural embankment 
of the Colorado, it would doubtless be covered again with 
water. It was very probable that the Colorado Desert 
region was uplifted within historic times. Earthquakes 
occasionally agitate its surface, and in 1852 there were erup 
tions of mud and hot water in the central parts of the valley. 

Next were rehearsed the characteristics of the Great Basin, 
so named by Fremont, and of the newly discovered "Death s 
Valley," east of Owen s Lake, which by the barometrical 
readings lies at least 377 feet below the level of the sea the 
bed of a dried-up lake covered with layers of salt from one 
to three feet in depth, while all the water about it is bitter 
and nauseating an American Dead Sea, whereof the sea 
has died out literally. 

Then the lecturer came to consider the climate of Califor 
nia, which is distributed in zones that lie parallel, not to the 
equator, but to the coast, following the trendings of the 
mountains To account for it, he described first the climatal 
characteristics of the land, and then the great currents of 
the Pacific. California has no one climate, but several ; as 
a whole, it nearer approaches that of Spain than of any other 
portion of Northern Europe. The air over the great valley, 
being heated by the sun, rushes up along the slope of the 
Sierra as in a mighty chimney ; and to supply this current, 
air is drawn inland through the breaks in the Coast Ranges, 
as through a blower. The Golden Gate, being the broadest 
depression in the range, and leading directly to the interior, 
is the great draught-channel for the valley furnace. The 
air thus drawn in comes to us chilled by contact with the 
cold waters of the North, and laden with their mists. The 
f urv with which it is drawn inland around the barriers that, 


both north and south of us, force it to seek the Gate, raises 
the sand of the ocean beach, and piles it in wave-like hills 
over the site of our city. But this beautiful phenomenon 
we need not stop to describe, as every day, at this season, 
we see it repeated. The climate of the California Desert is 
peculiar to itself, and finds no counterpart this side the des 
erts of Africa and Asia. Here, as in the Sacramento 
valley, the hot air rising between the mountain barrier, 
sucks in through the San Bernardino Pass another such a 
gale as is always, of a summer day, rushing through the 
Golden Gate. The sand that the gale bears along cuts deep 
grooves in the granite, and polishes its surface. Striking 
against a vertical granite wall, it wears away the minerals 
of which it is composed with different speed, according to 
their varying hardness. The soft feldspar succumbs first ; 
then the quartz, and the garnets last of all. So the project 
ing masses that face the wind all stand tipped with polished 
garnets that point, like jeweled fingers, to the source of the 
wind. The hottest place known in the United States is Fort 
Yuma, at the junction of the Gila and Colorado, where the 
thermometer frequently ranges at 117 in the shade. 

Professor Blake argued the reasons of the bracing effect 
of the coast climate, which permits so much greater amount 
of physical and mental exertion without fatigue than any 
other region known ; and queried whether it was not due 
to the unobstructed "actinic rays" of the sun-beams reach 
ing us through a dry cloudless atmosphere. The abundance 
of actinic rays he held to account for the unusual brilliancy 
of the flowers, and to be proved by the general absence of 
clouds, and the reflection of the parched light-colored soil 
during the dry season. The next topic was the vegetation 
of California, but the little space at our command to-day 
forbids us to follow another step the lecturer through this 
most interesting portion of the 1 evening s entertainment. 
We must again express our regret that some one of the gen 
tlemen who sat behind the lecturer, did not avail themselves 
of their privilege, while providing a glass of water for him, 
to whisper "louder" in his ear, or that in the audience 
there was not one man ill-bred enough to shout "louder" 


at the start. Mr. Blake has voice enough, but, probably not 
suspecting that more was wanted, he did not let it out. 
This alone prevented every person from feeling when he 
retired, that this was one of the most profitable and deli- 
ciously refreshing lectures that has been delivered in Cali 
fornia for many a day. San Francisco Bulletin, July, 

STEPHEN MASSETT says that during his visit 
to England, and while visiting the House of 
Commons, he was presented to the Earl of Car 
digan, who was in command of the llth Hus 
sars and led the celebrated Charge of the Six 
Hundred at Balaklava. Being one of the first 
to recite in public Tennyson s famous lines, he had a natural 
ambition to deliver them in the presence of Lord Cardigan. 
A polite note was received from the Earl, inviting Mr. 
Massett to call upon him at his residence in Portman Square, 
where after rendering the poem to the Earl and his lady, 
the following graphic account of the fight was given him : 
At about 1 o clock, after the Heavy Brigade had been 
attacked by the Russian cavalry, the whole of the cavalry 
division was considerably advanced toward the enemy. 
The Light Brigade was ordered to dismount to relieve their 
horses. Suddenly they were ordered to " mount." Aid- 
de-camp Captain Nolan came forward and told Lord Lucan, 
commanding the cavalry, that the Light Brigade were to 
attack the Russians in the valley. Lord Lucan rode up to 
Lord Cardigan and said : "It is Lord Raglan s order that 
the Light Brigade is to attack the Russians in the valley." 
Lord Cardigan s answer was, saluting with his sword. 
u Certainly, my Lord, but you will allow me to inform you, 
that there is a Russian battery in front, one on each flank, 
and the ground on the flank is covered with Russian rifle 
men !" Lord Lucan s answer was: "I can not help -that; 
it is Lord Raglan s positive order that the Light Brigade 


is to attack them." Lord Cardigan then formed hisb^gade 
of five regiments, with three regiments in the front line, and 
two in the second. Lord Lucan ordered Lord Cardigan s 
regiment, the llth Hussars, "back, so as to form a support 
on the left rear of the front line. Lord Cardigan imme 
diately ordered the advance. After going sixty yards or 
so, Captain Nolan rode obliquely across the front, when a 
Russian shell fell upon the ground near Captain Nolan, and 
not very far from Lord Cardigan. Nolan s horse turned 
round and carried him to the rear. Lord Cardigan then 
led the brigade down to the main battery in front, about 
one mile and a quarter distant. On arriving at a position 
about eighty yards from the battery, the fire became very 
severe, and the officers were considerably excited, and had 
to be called to " be steady." Cardigan, at the head of his 
brigade, passed close by the muzzle of a gun, which was 
fired as he entered the battery. He then rode straight for 
ward through the Russian limber carriages, and came up 
close to the Russian line of cavalry. His brigade did not 
follow him. Lord Cardigan was attacked by two Cossacks, 
slightly wounded and nearly dismounted. He fenced off 
the Cossacks, and gradually retired from others who were 
attempting to surround him. When he got back to the 
battery, they had all retired and diverged to the left. Lord 
Cardigan slowly retreated, and met General Scarlett, com 
manding the heavy brigade of the cavalry. Cardigan told 
him that the "Light Brigade" was destroyed. The bri 
gade was then counted by his staff officer, and it was found 
that there were only 195 men left out of 650. 

Lord Cardigan immediately rode off to Lord Raglan to 
report what had taken place. The first thing Lord Raglan 
said, in a very angry tone, was, "What, sir, could you 
possibly mean by attacking a battery in front, contrary to 
all the usages of warfare and the customs of the service ?" 
To which Lord Cardigan replied, "My Lord, I hope you 
will not blame me, for I received a positive order from my 
superior officer in front of the troops to attack them, and I 
was quite as well aware of the unusual course of proceed 
ing ordered." Lord Raglan inquired what had been done. 



To which Lord Cardigan replied, that "he had led the 
brigade into the Russian battery ; that he had ridden up to 
the Russian cavalry ; that he was not followed by the 
brigade ; was wounded and nearly dismounted, and had 
some difficulty in getting away from a number of Cossacks ; 
that the brigade was nearly destroyed, there being only 
195 remaining." 

The whole of this memorable affair occupied the brief 
time of twenty minutes! 



From the Alta California, October 9, 1864. 

HE Mission of San Francisco was founded on 
the 9th October, 1776, eighty-eight years ago ; 
and the present city of San Francisco, being 
the successor of that Mission, may consider this 
as its own anniversary. As such we shall treat 
it, and we shall do honor to the day, by making 
it the occasion of stating the manner in which the Mission 
was founded, and narrating a few events of its early history. 


It is supposed that the Bay of San Francisco was first 
discovered in the month of October, 1769, by the Friar Juan 
Crespi, who had started from San Diego on the 14th July 
previous, at the head of a party of soldiers, with instruc 
tions to found a Mission on the Bay of Monterey. Coming 
northward he reached that bay near the mouth of the 
Salinas River, and finding no harbor there, he determined 
to continue his journey in the hope of finding a better site 
for a Mission. He found a magnificent bay, believed that 
he was the first white man to discover it, and named it, after 
the founder of his monastic order ? San Francisco. Thus it 
was that the bay obtained the name which it still has, and 
which has been communicated to the Mission and city. 



Our city bears the name of a man who is regarded as a 
saint by the Catholic Church, who founded the order that 
established all the Missions of Upper California, in whose 
especial honor this Mission was established, and who was 
regarded as its patron saint, in accordance with Catholic 
custom, which allows or requires every church and mission 
to be "under the invocation 1 of some saint, whose plead 
ings before the Throne of Grace shall secure especial bless 
ings for it. 

San Francisco de Assisi, as he is called in Spanish, or St. 
Francis, as we call him in English, was born at the town of 
Assisi, near Rome, in the year 1182. His family name was 
Bernardone ; his baptismal name, Giovanni, which latter 
title was neglected and Francisco substituted in common 
use, because of his familiarity with the French tongue. He 
was a wild boy and a dissolute young man ; but after 
having been imprisoned a year as a captive taken in war, 
and subsequently confined to his bed by severe illness for a 
considerable time, he repented for his sins, at the age of 
twenty-four gave up his wealth, distributed his rich cloth 
ing among the poor, and devoted himself to a life of beg 
gary, poverty, prayer, chastity, penance, and charity. He 
regarded the injunction of Jesus to the Apostles to take 
" neither staves, nor scrip, nor bread, nor money, nor two 
coats," as binding upon all teachers of the Christian religion, 
and especially upon himself, so he laid up nothing for the 
morrow, would own no property, and would wear no dress 
save one woolen gown tied at the waist by a hempen cord. 
That was a time when penance was regarded as meritorious, 
and when industry and provision for the future were not 
virtues. Those features in the conduct of Francis which 
find the least commendation in this age, attracted the most 
admiration in that ; and in a few years he was surrounded 
by a number of imitators who besought him to organize 
them into a body, so that they might have their convents 
and act under a regular system. He consented, and the 
order still exists. He died on the 4th of October, 1226. 


. ^ 

Some of Ms writings have been preserved, but they possess 
no literary merit 


The Franciscan Order of friars soon rose to great im 
portance. Forty years after the death of the founder it 
numbered two hundred thousand members. It was for a 
long time considered as the leading monastic order of the 
Catholic Church, and still numbers about eighty thousand 
friars. Their rules of life were the same as those of their 
founder. Their dress was dark-brown in color, and of 
coarse material. Many of their leading men abandoned 
wealth and power to become mendicants and monks. After 
the Reformation they took an active part in missionary 
enterprises, especially in ]STew Spain, as the Spanish Colo 
nies in North America were called previous to the War of 
Independence. Among their other enterprises they formed 
the first white settlements in Upper California. 


The Mission of San Francisco de Assisi, was founded by 
Friars Francisco Palou and Benito Cambon, at the head of 
a party which started from Monterey on the 17th June, 
1776. In the party were seventeen soldiers, under command 
of Lieutenant Jose Moraga. All the soldiers, and seven 
colonists, took wives and children with them. There were 
servants, packers, vaqueros, two Indian servants of the 
friars, and two Monterey Indians, brought in the hope 
which proved to be vain that they might serve for inter 
preters. Accompanying this expedition were a train of 
pack-mules, laden with provisions, grain, and tools, and a 
number of horses, cows, and sheep, that might serve as the 
beginning of the herds of the future Mission. After a 
journey of ten days they arrived, on the 27th June, at 
Washerwoman s Lagoon, just west of the present Russian 
Hill, and there they camped and erected fifteen tents. The 
Indians of the vicinity came to them in a friendly manner, 
and received presents of beads, which they repaid with 


donations of grass seeds. Then, next day, a lint was made 
of the boughs of trees, and Palou said mass in it. 

It had been arranged that a little vessel shonld leave 
Monterey with more men and supplies in a few days after 
the departure of the land party, but it did not arrive until 
the 18th of August. Meantime land parties were sent out 
to examine the peninsula. The men of the land party arid 
the sailors built wooden houses thatched with tule, at the 
places selected for the Presidio or fort, and the Mission. 
Solemn possession was taken of the Presidio on the 17th of 
September. The friars said mass, hoisted and adored the 
banner of the Holy Cross, the commandant took possession 
in the name of the king of Spain, and salutes were fired 
with artillery and musketry. The packet boat sailed north 
ward to survey the bay in that direction, and a land party 
followed its shores on the south and east. At the end of a 
week they returned, having satisfied themselves that the 
best place for a religious establishment was near the Presidio. 


On the 9 th of .October the Mission was founded. A pro 
cession, comprising the entire male population soldiers, 
settlers, and sailors headed by the priests, who bore aloft 
the banner of the Cross and a statuette of St. Francis, 
marched from the Presidio to the Mission, where the sacred 
objects were placed on the altar. Father Palou, as the 
senior friar, chanted a mass and preached a sermon about 
the founder of his order, as the patron saint of the Mission. 
At proper intervals in the sacred ceremonies, the soldiers 
and sailors fired salutes of musketry, in accordance with 
the custom of their country. No corner-stone was laid, no 
mason declared that the building had been commenced in 
u due form and workmanlike manner." Those were forms 
neither customary nor necessary. 

The site first chosen for the Mission was on the western 
shore of Washerwoman s Lagoon. Father Palou, whose 
biography of Junipero Serra contains the only printed 
record of these events, says : 

" Se determine empezar a cortar madera para las fabricas 




del Presidio cerca de la entrada del pnerto j para las de la 
Mision en este mismo sitio de la Laguna, en el plan 6 llano 
que tiene al Poniente." 

This we translate as follows : 

" We determined to begin to cut wood for the buildings of 
the Presidio near the entrance of the port, and for those of 
the Mission in the same site, on the level place west of the 

We have no information when the Mission was moved to 
its present place. 

No Indians were present at the foundation of a Mission 
established for their conversion. The tribe which then 
occupied the northern part of this peninsula was then 
engaged in a war with another tribe called Salsones, who 
lived at the place now known as San Mateo. These 
Salsones, in the middle of August, surprised the San Fran 
cisco Indians, killed many of them, wounded others, and 
burned their rancherias. The Spaniards knew nothing of 
the affair until too late. The San Francisco Indians then 
fled on rafts of tule, some to the islands in the bay, and 
others to the opposite shore, where they remained until the 
next March. 

The first missionaries in charge of the Mission of San 
Francisco were the two who were present at its foundation- 
Francisco Palou and Benito Cambon. The latter was a 
man of no special note, but Palou was a man of promise. 
He was a peculiar favorite with Junipero, whose biography 
he wrote after his return to the city of Mexico, where he 
became Superior of the Convent of San Fernando, the chief 
establishment of the order on the American continent. 

The first baptism of an Indian at -the new Mission took 
place on the day of St. John the Baptist, 1777, and within 
seven years from that time, four hundred others were 
declared converts to Christianity, and received into the 
Church. Father Junipero visited the Mission only once, 
and then spent ten days from the first to the tenth of Octo 
ber, 1777. As for the subsequent history of the Mission, 
we shall now mention only a few facts. 

In 1800 the friars reported that they had 647 Indian con- 


verts, 7,080 neat -cattle, 6,238 sheep, 999 horses, and an 
annual yield of 5,000 bushels of grain, under which are 
included, wheat, barley, maize, beans, and pease. In 1805 
there were 10,000 neat-cattle, and 11,000 sheep; but soon 
after that the political troubles of Mexico arose, and the 
Missions, San Francisco among them, began to suffer, and 
in 1835 their property was seized, and they ceased to have 
any influence as Missions. 


[This poem was written by Theodore Winthrop, and after his 
death was found among his unpublished papers.] 

WE of the East spread our sails to the sea, 

You of the We,st stride over the land ; 
Both are to scatter the hopes of the free, 

As the sower sheds golden grain from his hand. 

Tis ours to circle the stormy bends 

Of a continent yours, its ridge to cross ; 
We must double the capes where a long world ends, 

Lone cliifs where two limitless oceans toss. 

They meet and are baffled mid tempest and wrath, 
Breezes are skirmishing, angry winds roar ; 

While poised on some desperate plunge of our path, 
We count up the blackening wrecks on the shore. 

And you through dreary and thirsty ways, 
Where rivers are sand and winds are dust ; 

Through sultry nights and feverish days, 
Move westward still as the sunset must ; 

Where the scorched air quivers along the scopes, 
Where the slow-footed cattle lie down and die ; 

Where horizons draw backward till baffled hopes 
Are weary of measureless waste and sky. 

Yes, ours to battle relentless gales, 

And yours the brave and the patient way ; 

But we hold the storms in our trusty sails, 
And for you the life-giving fountains play. 


There are stars above us, and stars for you 
Rest on the path and calm on the main ; 

Storms are but zephyrs when hearts are true ; 
We are no weaklings, quick to complain, 

When lightnings flash bivouac-fires into gloom, 
And with crashing of forests the rains sheet down ; 

Or when ships plunge onward where night clouds loom ; 
Defiant of darkness and meeting its frown. 

These are the days of motion and march ; 

Now we are ardent, and young, and brave ; 
Let them that come after us build the arch 

Of our triumph, and plant with the laurel our grave. 

Time enough to rear temples when heroes are dead, 
Time enough to sing paeans after the fight ; 

Prophets urge onward the future s ti^ad, 
We we ar e to kindle its beacon-light. 

Our sires lit torches of quenchless flame 

To illumine, our darkness, if night should be , 

But day is a friend to our standards, and shame 
Be ours if we w T in not a victory ! 

Man is nobler than men have been, 

Souls are vaster than souls have dreamed ; 

There are broader oceans than eyes have seen, 
Noons more glowing than yet have beamed. 

Creeping shadows cower low on our land ; 

These shall not dim our grander day ; 
Stainless knights must be those who stand 

Full in the van of a world s array ! 

When shall we cease our meager distrust ? 

When to each other our true hearts yield ? 
To make this world an Eden, we must 

Fling away each weapon and shield. 

And meet each man as a friend and mate, 
Trample and spurn and forget our pride ; 

Glad to accept an equal fate, 

Laboring, conquering, side by side. 




From the Sacramento Union, September, 1859. 

N an article on the Pioneers on Friday allusion 
was made to the festive proceedings attending 
the signing of our State Constitution by the mem 
bers of the Monterey Convention. It was stated 
that the Constitution was signed on the 3d of Sep 
tember, a mistake which we were led into by similar bad 
authorities to those which we have seen disputing as to 
whether the State was admitted on the 9th or 10th of Sep 
tember. The event, which is very gracefully portrayed in 
the following sketch from an old number of the Alia 
California, took place on the 13th of October. We believe 
the article copied below has never been republished before : 
SIGNING THE CONSTITUTION. The thirteenth day of 
October, in the year 1849, was one of those eventful epochs 
in the history of California which will ever be a day of 
remembrance and interest the beginning of a new era ! 

It was a day of beauty and sunshine. The sun rose in 
all his might, and as he went higher and higher in the 
heavens, the ocean mist that hung lazily upon the pleasant 
town of Monterey, and seemed dallying softly with the 
placid waters of the lovely bay, gradually shrunk from his 
amorous embrace, until it had rolled up the hill-sides, and 
died away, leaving its last kiss upon the crests of the 
stately pines. And as the day grew brighter and hotter, a 
balmy breeze swept gently past so gentle that it did not 
ripple the quiet waters so cool that it seemed to soothe 
and calm all unworthy and restless desires and yet so 
potent that it filled the mind with great thoughts that 
appeared to have been called into being by the softened 
booming of the mighty breakers of the Pacific, which the 
zephyr bore ever with it. 

Such was the day on which the Constitution of the State 
of California was signed by the delegates in Convention 
assembled, at Colton Hall, in the city of Monterey. 


According to previous arrangements, at a little before three 
o clock, P. M., the President of the Convention appeared in 
the hall, leaning on the arm of his son, having risen from 
his sick bed to be present at this last important act in the 
drama. At a few minutes past three, preliminary matters 
having been disposed of, the delegates commenced the 
signing. Scarcely had the first man touched his pen to the 
paper when the loud booming of cannon resounded through 
the hall. At the same moment the flags at the different 
head- quarters, and on board the shipping in the port, were 
slowly unfurled and run up. As the firing of the national 
salute of thirty-one guns proceeded at the fort, and the 
signing of the Constitution went on at the hall, the captain 
of an English bark then in port paid a most beautiful and 
befitting compliment to the occasion and the country, by 
hoisting at his main the American flag above those of every 
other nation, making, at the moment that the thirty-first 
gun was fired, a line of colors from the main truck to the 
vessel s deck. And when, at last, that thirty-first gun 
came the first gun for California three as hearty and as 
patriotic cheers as ever broke from human lips were given 
by the Convention for the new State. 

It was an hour of patriotic and noble feelings an hour 
fraught with impulses and resolves such as pen can not 
describe. Those who had labored to lay the foundations 
of the new State coming from different nations and climes 
felt that, from that hour, they were one. One hope ani 
mated them one wish nerved them one impulse guided 
them ; that hope, that wish, and that impulse was Califor 
nia ! The American hearts beat strongly and proudly, as 
they felt that they had planted the flag under which they 
were born and reared upon this wild western shore of the 
new continent the alien felt that only where that flag 
waved was found the home of those who fled from tyranny 
the Californians were convinced that they were con 
quered but to become the brothers and friends of the con 

But the most interesting and affecting part of the pro 
ceedings of the day was the call by the delegates, after the 


adjournment, upon the Governor. The veteran pioneer, 
Captain John A. Sutter, had been appointed by unanimous 
resolution, to address General Riley, on behalf of the Con 
vention, and on its dissolution, the delegates, with the ser- 
gant-at arms at their head, proceeded in a body to the 
mansion of the "Hero of Contreras." Arrived there, they 
were welcomed by a kind salutation and a cordial shake of 
the hand ; after which Captain Sutter thanked the General, 
in a short and neat speech, for the aid and assistance he 
had so freely given the Convention in the prosecution of its 
labors, and trusted that the people of California would be 
as fortunate hereafter in obtaining a Governor whose firm 
ness, moderation and patriotic exertions for their welfare 
had won for him greater glory than had come to him from 
the blood-stained fields of Mexico. 

The General s reply was one of the happiest efforts of the 
kind we ever listened to. It could not be called a speech ; 
for it bore no relation to the fustian of which such articles 
are usually manufactured ; but it was a simple, fervent and 
eloquent recital of a patriotic desire for the good of Califor 
nia. He did not profess to make a speech he had never 
made a speech in his life and even if he were a professed 
speech- maker he did not doubt that the occasion and the 
expression of the Convention s thanks would overcome him, 
as it did now, and prevent his utterance of the emotions of 
gratitude with which his heart was full. He had labored 
to the utmost of his ability to promote the interests of this 
country, and though he did not expect to be one of her 
citizens, he felt it to be the proudest day of his life when he 
could say that he had assisted in laying the foundation of 
that glory and greatness which he foresaw would soon be 
the portion of the new State of California. No ! Not even 
amid the smoke and carnage of battle, or the enthusiasm 
and glory of victory, had he ever felt so full of devotion to 
his country and her progress, so desirous to promote and 
defend her interests and her fame, or so grateful that he 
had been permitted to become an humble instrument in the 
advancement of the greatest of modern republics. 

At the conclusion of General Riley s remarks, three cheers 


were given for "the Governor of California," three for 
"Captain John A. Sutter," and three more for the "New 
State \ and then, after partaking of the refreshments pro 
vided by the hospitality of the Governor, the company 
separated to make their final preparations for departure to 
their respective homes. 

Such was the day, such the ceremonies, and such the 
auspices under which California struck her first blow for 
admission into the Union. It was a day that can never be 
forgotten; for with it is linked all of good and evil that is 
to befall her in her new and untried path. The day itself 
was typical of the feelings of those who were intrusted 
with the high mission of forming a Constitution. When 
the morning sun rose in mist and gloom, doubts and sadness 
filled their minds. They felt that theirs was a heavy re 
sponsibility ; that the instrument they were about to sign 
must become the source of power, greatness, and fame to a 
mighty State, or the impediment to all these, or perhaps its 
ruin. And they were thoughtful and anxious, though 
they were assured in their hearts that they had acted 
honestly and patriotically. But, as the day grew older, 
the chilling fog disappeared, and with it went all fear and 
gloom, and there grew up instead a firm resolve to go forth 
and labor well and patiently for the accomplishment of that 
destiny which is to make the United States the greatest of 
republics, and California the EMPIRE STATE OF THE PACIFIC. 


RANGE exports wines, brandies, silks, fancy 
articles, jewelry, clocks, watches, paper, per 
fumery, and fancy goods generally. 

Italy exports corn, oil, tar, flax, wines, essence, 
dye-stuffs, drugs, fine marble, soap, paintings, 
engravings, mosaics, and salt. 

Prussia exports linens, woolens, zinc, articles of iron, 
copper, and brass, indigo, wax, hams, musical instruments, 
tobacco, wines, and porcelain. 


Germany exports wool, woolen goods, linens, rags, corn, 
timber, iron, lead, tin, flax, hemp, wines, wax, tallow, and 

Austria exports minerals, raw and manufactured silk, 
thread, grass, grain, wax, tallow, nutgall, wines, honey, 
and mathematical instruments. 

England exports cotton, woolen, glass, hardware, earthen 
ware, cutlery, iron, metallic wares, salt, coal, watches, tin, 
silks, and linens. 

Russia exports tallow, flax, hemp, flour, iron, copper, 
linseed, lard, hides, wax, duck, cordage, bristles, fur, pot 
ash, and tar. 

Spain exports wine, brandy, oil, fresh and dried fruits, 
quicksilver, sulphur, salt, cork, saffron, anchovies, silks, 
and woolens. 

China exports tea, rhubarb, musk, ginger, zinc, borax, 
cassia, filegree works, ivory ware, lacquered ware, and 

Turkey exports coffee, opium, silk, drugs, gums, dried 
fruits, tobacco, wines, camel s hair, carpets, shawls, and 

Hindostan exports silks, shawls, carpets, opium, salt 
peter, pepper, gum, indigo, cinnamon, cochineal, diamonds, 
pearls, and drugs. 

Mexico exports gold and silver, cochineal, indigo, sarsa- 
parilla, vanilla, jalap, fustic, campeachy, wool, pimento, 
drugs, and dye-stuffs. 

Brazil exports coffee, indigo, sugar, rice, hides, dried 
meats, tallow, gold, diamonds and other precious stones, 
gums, mahogany, and india rubber. 

West Indies export sugar, molasses, rum, tobacco, cigars, 
mahogany, dye-wood, coffee, pimento, fresh fruits and pre 
serves, rubber, wax, ginger, and other spices. 

Switzerland exports cattle, cheese, butter, tallow, dried 
fruit, lime, silks, velvets, laces, jewelry, paper, and gun 

East Indies export cloves, nutmegs, mace, pepper, rice, 
indigo, gold dust, camphor, benzoin, sulphur, ivory, rattans, 
sandal wood, zinc and nuts. 


United States exports principally agricultural produce, 
cotton, tobacco, flour, provisions of all kinds, lumber, 
turpentine, and wearing apparel. 


ITCH has been said on the subject of secret writ 
ing, and many methods devised for conveying 
private or important messages in such a way 
that, if they fall into improper hands, their 
meaning will be safe from detection. Sympa 
thetic ink is sometimes used, which is so made that the 
writing disappears in a short time, but again becomes visi 
ble on the application of heat or some chemical prepara 
tion. But secrets thus sealed, are readily unsealed by any 
chemist. The most common method is to construct a 
cipher, in which new and strange characters stand for 
letters or words, or one word stands for another, or the 
words to be read are mixed with other words, but placed 
in some determined order. But few, if any, of these are 
beyond the reach of an ingenious mind to interpret. And 
it is not so much guess-work as many people suppose. In 
unraveling a difficult cipher numerous experiments have 
to be tried, but the operations are all based on comparison, 
and should be regular and systematic. 

Poe, in his story of "The Gold Bug," gives some valu 
able hints on the interpretation of the most common cryp 
tographs. He contends that the ingenuity of man can con 
struct no enigma which the ingenuity of .man can not un 
ravel. And he actually read several very difficult ciphers 
which were sent to him after the publication of "The Gold 

But we saw, several years ago, a method which makes 
the message absolutely safe from detection. We will try 
to describe it. 

Take a square sheet of paper, of convenient size, say a 
foot square. Divide it by lines drawn at right angles, into 



five hundred and seventy-six squares, twenty-six each 
way ; in the upper horizontal row write the alphabet in its 
natural order, one letter in each square ; in the second hor 
izontal row write the alphabet, beginning with B. There 
will then be one square left at the end of this row, into this 
put A. Fill the third row by beginning with C, and writ 
ing A arid B after Z at the end. So on, until the whole 
sheet is filled. 

When completed, the table, if correct, will present this 
appearance: In the upper horizontal row the alphabet in 
its natural order from left to right ; in the left hand vertical 
row, the same from top to bottom ; and the diagonal, from 
upper right to lower left hand corner, will be a line of Z s. 


A|B C 





T r 


J K 








T U 


W X 

Y Z 








K L 











X Y 




D E 







L M 
















E F 







M N 
















F G 
























G H 























H I 


K L 




















I J 


L M 



Q R 














F !G 


J K 
























K L 



















F G 




L M 























M N 


















H I 




















































P Q 

























Q R 


T ill 

















L M 



R S 























S T 

























T U 
























U V 
























v w 















































X Y 
















































Z A 














p IQ 









A ! B 


D E 
















Y , 

Each party must have one of these tables. A key- word 
must also be agreed upon, which may be any word in the 
English language, or from any other language, if it can be 
represented by English letters, or, indeed, it may even be a 
combination of letters which spells nothing. 


Now, to send a message, first we write the message in 
plain English. Over it we write the key-word, letter over 
letter, repeating it as many times as it is necessary to cover 
the message. Take a simple case as an illustration. We 
suppose the key-word to be "Grant," and the message, 
u We have five days provisions." It should be placed 

thus : 

G r antg rant gran tgrantgran 
We have five days p r o v i $ i o n s. 

Now find, in the upper horizontal row of the table, the 
first letter of the key- word, G, and in the left hand vertical 
column the first letter of the message, AY. Run a line 
straight down from G, and one to the right from W, and in 
the angle where the two lines meet will be found the letter 
which must be written as the first letter of the cipher. 
With the second letter of the key-word, R, and the second 
letter of the message, E, find in the same way the second 
letter of the cipher. 

The correspondent who receives the cipher, goes to work 
to translate it thus : He first writes over it the key -word, 
letter over letter, repeating it as often as necessary. Then 
finding in the upper row of his table the first letter of the 
key -word, he passes his pencil directly down until he 
comes to the first letter of the cipher ; the letter opposite 
to it in the left vertical column is the first letter of the 
translation. Each of the succeeding letters is found in a 
similar way. 

A third party, into whose hands such a cipher might 
fall, could not read it, though he possessed a copy of the 
table, and knew how to use it, unless he knew the key- word. 
The chance of his guessing this is only one in millions. 
And there is no such thing as interpreting it by any other 
method, because there are no repetitions, and hence all 
comparison is at fault. That is to say, in the same cipher, 
in one place a letter, as for instance C, may stand for one 
letter in the translation, and in another place C may stand 
for quite a different letter. This is the only kind of cryp 
tograph we have ever seen which is absolutely safe. 



In an old School-Book. 

RELIC of early days ! My casual hand 

Hath made discovery of thy long retreat, 

As carelessly I turned the time-worn page, 

Unconscious of its import ; for ray thoughts 

Were idly roving not on learned lore, 

Or marked and measured task. I look on thee, 

Poor withered thing ! and memory s current flows 

Back, back, upon the past. Shriveled and sear 

Is all thine aspect now, pris ner of years ! 

Yet hath it woke remembrance of bright days 

And sunny scenes of nature, trodden oft 

By my feet in childhood ; it hath woke 

The echoes of sweet voices in my heart 

I see again the light of happy eyes 

I mingle with the early loved, and tread 

With them familiar pathways. Where, oh, where 

Hast thou been gathered ? Was t in the shady walk 

Far in the woodlands, where the beech-trees stretch 

Their long embracing branches, forming there 

A cool continuous arbor ? Grewest thou 

Beside that stately stem, whose graven bark 

Tells of its frequent loiterers ? Or didst 

Thou spring from some small cleft upon the rock 

That venturous steps were needed to attain ? 

Wert thou the spoil of some loved playmate s hand ? 

Or did mine own thus bind and prison thee 

In bondage grim and fast ? so shrunk, so sear 

Is all thine aspect now ! Yet can I trace 

In its wan lineaments the form of grace, 

And can imagine the bright sapphire hue 

Of each small petal, when the calyx burst, 

And gave its incense to the morning air. 

How many a time hath Spring awoke the woods, 

And Summer to the blue perpetual skies 

Unfolded all her flowers ; how many a time 

Hath morn succeeded night, the sunbeam waned, 

And the cool air condensed itself in dew, 


Since thou, their nursling, in thy beauty blooming 
Wert here entombed, to fade and be forgot ! 

Sleep on, poor flow ret ; softest showers of Spring, 

And all sweet influences of nature, now were vain 

Thy colors to revive, or bring to thee 

The loveliness of life ; as vain, alas, 

As wishes are to fill the longing heart 

As vain as bitterest tears or deepest sighs 

To bring again the lost. Ah, could we turn 

And search the storied pages of the heart, 

What withered flowers were found ! Fair buds of Hope 

Gathered in dewy hours of life s young morn, 

And garnered in their freshness, faded now 

And bleached by disappointment, cherished joys 

Shrunk into memories that awaken tears 

And loves, and friendships, once expanded flowers 

Roseate and beautiful all, all are there ! 

Sleep on, poor flow ret ; not unmarked from hence 

Thy place of sepulture : with loving hands, 

And chastened thought, reluctantly once more 

I close the book upon thy faded form. 


Queries, submitted as to the man who discovered the present Gold Mines, and the date of their 


IOWA HILL, PLACER COUNTY, January. 8, 1856. 

R. C. E. PICKETT : I suppose you have seen 
the many communications which have flooded 
the papers lately with regard to the question 
Who was the first discoverer of the present 
gold mines in California? You were one of 
our first American settlers, and also the publisher of a 
paper which has been referred to in one of said communica 
tions, and I have been requested by Mr. Marshall to make 
a few inquiries of you. 


1. Have you any recollection of the publication of an 
article in the Oregon Spectator in 1846 or 47, which gave a 
" graphic description" of the mines of California. [Such 
was lately said to be the fact by a writer in the California 

2. Do you recollect that an agent was sent from Cali 
fornia to Oregon, to solicit aid for the immigrants in Cali 
fornia, to enable them to make a successful resistance 
against any attempt to drive them out of the country? 

JSuch has been said to be the fact.] 

3. What representations, if any, did that agent make to 
the Oregonians to induce them to go to California \ Did he 
not tell a good story, based probably upon the old Spanish 
report of mines existing in Southern California ? And is 
not this the whole sum and substance of what has been 
referred to, to prove that the mines were known long before 
the time at which Mr. Marshall claims to have discovered 
the gold 2 

4. Do you not know that there was no mine worked for 
gold in Upper California, so far as the American public had 
any knowledge of it, before Marshall s discovery ? 

Please reply to the above as early as your convenience 
will permit, and oblige 



AUBURN, January 20, 1856. 

( DITORS CHRONICLE: About ten days since, 
I saw in a copy of the Weekly Chronicle, a 
communication on the subject of early gold 
discoveries in California, signed U N." The 
writer called upon ex-Governor Burnett, Gov 
ernor Curry, of Oregon, and myself, to indorse certain state 
ments of his, to the effect that the existence of gold through 
out this State, was well known prior to the period of its 
discovery as claimed by Marshall. The perusal of various 
newspapers, editorials and communications, which appeared 


during the previous month, written apparently to rob Mar 
shall of the honor of his discovery, had incited me to write 
to you, but I was prevented from doing so by business 
affairs, up to the present time. At the request of your 
selves, of your correspondent U N," and of Mr. S. G. Hig- 
gins, whose letter accompanies this, I now write. 

To reply specifically to, and refute the many mis-state 
ments about the early gold discoveries in California, which 
have frequently met my eye of late, is not my intention. 
Suffice it to say, that even the editor of the Coloma paper, 
where the first piece of gold was picked up, has, through 
misrepresentations, been induced to publish articles deny 
ing to Marshall the exclusive honor of being the first dis 

In answering Marshall s first query, which contains the 
substance of your request also, I would state, that no such 
information was published in the "Oregon Spectator" 
during the years 1846-7. 

During 1847, and particularly in the fall of that year, 
there was quite an excitement in San Francisco and San 
Jose, on the subject of mineral discoveries. But this was 
mostly in reference to quicksilver and silver mines, which 
were reported to be rich and numerous in the hills and 
mountains bounding both sides of the valley of San Jose. 

Toward winter this excitement subsided all the silver 
mines having proved to be humbugs, and the various quick 
silver mines having been thinned out, to the one then and 
now wrought by Bolton, Barron & Co., the New Almaden. 

That the Oregon paper may, sometime in the year 1847, 
have published some speculations and rumors about the 
discovery of the precious metals in California, based upon 
such facts as are stated above, I shall not pretend to ques 

In reply to the second query, I have to say that I have 
no knowledge that any agent was sent to Oregon to solicit aid, 
though such threats were made by the native Californians, 
and General Castro was actually making preparations to 
carry them into effect. Such a request was carried from the 
Americans in California by the immigrants, who went up 



to Oregon in the spring of 1846, to come down and give a 
helping hand, when they not only intended to resist the 
attempt to expel them, but to start a revolution and take 
possession of the Government. The Bear Flag Revolution 
soon after proved the earnestness of this threat. 

That the persons going from here to Oregon in 1846 told 
of the existence of gold in the land they had left, is alto 
gether probable, since such fact was known ever since the 
first advent and settlement of the country by the Spanish 

PLACER MINING. Miners shovelinsr earth, conf.tlnfng poM dust, into a flume the earth 
is washed away and tlie gold settles to tho bottom. 

In 1S42 I met with men in the Rocky Mountains who had 
been here, and who told me the- same thing. They were 
not the first to give such information, since I had read the 
same when a boy. 

The first hide drogers and other traders who visited this 
coast, even as long ago as the last century, obtained small 
quantities of gold dust, washed from the earth in the south- 


ern part of the State. The amount collected, however, was 
never large, as the way in which it was kept and carried 
for barter into market will go to prove. This was in goose 
quills, the same in which the tribute, or taxes, was paid to 
the old Aztec monarchs. 

All this, however, had nothing to do with the great 
modern discovery of the "stuff" by Marshall, about the 
first of February, 1848. That the residents of California 
themselves knew not, nor believed in the existence, of 
these rich auriferous deposits, is proved by the fact that for 
weeks after the report of such discoveries had widely spread, 
and not until various individuals had brought down the 
dust in considerable quantities, and shown it to all in 
quirers, could the general incredulity be overcome. The 
month of May arrived before public confidence in the rich 
ness of the mines was fully established, and people thought 
it would pay to visit them. 

This is not the first effort which has been made to rob 
Marshall of his priority of discovery. Some four or five 
years ago the papers in California, as well as a portion of 
those East, pretended to prove that Fremont made the dis 
covery on his first visit here, in 1844 that he kept the 
matter secret for the purpose of making arrangements to 
enrich himself first, and also that Mexico might not be in 
duced to demand too large a price from Uncle Sam for the 
country. The early purchase of the Mariposa claim, as 
alleged, is said to furnish strong evidence of his knowledge 
of its mineral wealth. 

As evidence to the contrary, however, I happen to recol 
lect that in the fall of 1847, Colonel Fremont, or rather his 
agent for him, was contending that the Mariposa grant did 
not include any of the Sierra mountains and hills, but was 
all, or nearly all, bottom lands, and so he meant to survey 
and hold it. 

Another set of antiquarians have attempted to set Mar 
shall down as merely a re-discoverer, by asserting that 
California is the veritable Ophir from whence that old Turk, 
of whom we read in the Bible, King Solomon, got the gold 
with which he ornamented the Temple at Jerusalem, and 


adorned the numerous mistresses of his harem. In this 
assertion these learned men, however, go farther back than 
my observation and experience, and I shall not argue 
against them on this point. 

Whilst encamped on the banks of the Klamath River on 
the 4th of July, 1846, the mineralogical character of the 
country was much commented upon by some of a company 
in which I was one. The remark was made that it ought to 
be rich in minerals, since, j udging from its barren and des 
olate appearance, it could produce nothing else. Some 
stones were brought me by one of the party, indicating the 
existence of copper and iron. I jotted this down in my 
notes of travel, and remarked, in addition, as my journal 
will now prove, that I had no doubt that gold in abundance 
would be found in the course of a few" years in that region. 
This prophecy has been fulfilled. Now, with far more 
truth and plausibility than some others who seek to deny to 
Marshall the fame of his discovery, might I claim upon 
these grounds that I had first pointed out and declared 
publicly the existence of gold in California. 

There is a fact connected with this metal, which is, though 
generally overlooked, but, if kept in mind, would serve to 
correct the erroneous impression which many have relative 
to the traditional stories about old discoveries of it in Cali 
fornia as well as other countries and that is, that gold is 
the most universally diffused of all metals, there being few 
streams upon the globe flowing from mountains or hills (and 
nearly all rivers or streams take their rise in such) the sands 
of which do not contain particles of gold. It is found, be 
sides, combined with various other metals, so that in most 
places, where thoroughly searched, gold in certain quanti 
ties has been obtained, and become the origin of many old 
traditional stories of discoveries of this mineral. 

This communication is already sufficiently lengthened, or 
I might else give you many interesting incidents connected 
with the reopening and re-working of Solomon s mines in 
the year 1848. This I may shortly do in another chapter, 
should I find this prove of sufficient interest to your readers 
to warrant it. C. E. PICKETT. 



CCOMPANYING the letter of Mr. Pickett, 
on the previous page, was a note, requesting 
us to inquire of Thomas O. Larkin, Esq., for 
merly U. S. Consul at Monterey, whether the 
statements in the letter were not correct, 
according to his recollection. Mr. Larkin, whose authority 
is excellent, as well on account of his opportunities to gain 
information, as of his intelligence, furnished us with a 
few notes, from which we compile the following : 

Previous to the year 1840, some Sonorians discovered a 
gold placer on the rancho of Don Ygnacio Valle, about 
twenty miles northeast of the ex-Mission of San Fernando. 
Many people worked at this placer up to the year 1846, 
making from two to three dollars a day. They never had 
much water, and they usually obtained the precious metal, 
by throwing the sand up with a cora (an Indian basket), 
and allowing the wind to blow away the lighter matter. The 
gold was frequently preserved in quills, and sold to the 
traders in Los Angeles. On one occasion, two hundred 
ounces [$3,600] of this gold was shipped to Appleton & 
Co., of Boston, by an agent, the supercargo of one of their 

In the spring of 1846, Don Jose Castro, Commandante 
General (Supreme Military Officer) of Upper California, 
though residing in Monterey, collected men at the ex-Mis 
sion of Santa Clara, for the purpose of deposing Pio Pico, 
the Gefe Politico (Political Chief or Governor) of the terri 
tory. Pico was then residing at Los Angeles. During this 
time the Americans, on the Sacramento were alarmed by a 
report that Castro and Alvarado had instigated the Indians 
to burn their wheat-fields, and would soon march with a 
large body of men for the upper country to drive all the 
Americans out of California. Mr. Larkin was in Santa Clara 
several times during the collection of these men by Castro, 
and in his capacity of U. S. Consul informed Castro and 
Alvarado of the rumors, represented the prejudicial effects 


of such reports on the public mind and on their own repu 
tations, and demanded information. Both Castro and Alva- 
rado emphatically denied the report respecting the Indians, 
and disclaimed any intention of going to the Sacramento 
River for any purpose. As the consul was fully informed 
of the object in the collection of men at Santa Clara, he 
believed the assertions of Castro and Alvarado. Pio Pico 
was north of Santa Barbara, on his march to put down 
Castro, when he heard that the American flag had been 
hoisted over Upper California by Commodore Sloat, and he 
turned back. About this time he wrote a letter to the 
American Consul which is published in the Annals of San 
Francisco. Pico objected to the possession of so much 
land on the Sacramento River by foreigners, but Castro 
wished them to have it. 

The Mariposa ranch came into the possession of Fremont 
accidentally. Previous to the gold discovery he had re 
quested Mr. Larkin to buy a ranch for him, but had pro 
vided no money, and had selected no land. Some time 
after this, and before the gold was discovered, Governor 
Alvarado offered the Mariposa ranch to Larkin for $3,000. 
The latter made the purchase, really for Fremont, but 
intending, if the latter objected, to keep the place for him 
self. When they met, Fremont agreed to take the ranch, 
but expressed a slight regret that Larkin had not bought a 
ranch on the coast. California Chronicle, January 28, 


ALTHOUGH the fact has heretofore been pub 
lished, it is not generally known, that gold 
placers were worked in California long before 
the discovery at Sutter s mill in 1848. Docu 
mentary evidence of this interesting fact has 
just been published by the Alia, in the shape of a letter 
addressed by Abel Stearns, of Los Angeles, to Louis R. 


Lull, Secretary of the Society of Pioneers. Mr. Stearns, 
who came to California, from Mexico, in 1829 nearly forty 
years ago says that on the 22d of November, 1842, he sent 
by Alfred Robinson (who returned from California to the 
States by way of Mexico), twenty ounces California weight 
(eighteen and three-fourths ounces Mint weight) of placer 
gold, to be forwarded by him to the United States Mint at 
Philadelphia. The Mint assay was returned August 6, 
1843. The gold was taken from placers first discovered in 
March, 1842, by Francisco Lopez, a native Californian, at 
San Francisquito, about thirty-five miles northwest from 
Los Angeles. Lopez, while resting in the shade with some 
companions during a hunt for stray horses, dug up some 
wild onions with his sheath- knife, and in the dirt discovered 
a piece of gold. Searching further he found more pieces, 
and on returning to town announced his discovery. A few 
persons, mostly Sonorians, who were accustomed to placer 
mining in Mexico, worked in the San Francisquito placer 
from this time until the latter part of 1846, when the war 
with the United States disturbed the country, taking out 
$6,000 to $8,000 per annum. The United States Mint Certi 
ficate, for the assay made for Mr. Stearns in 1843, is now in 
the archives of the Society of Pioneers. There have been 
reports that gold was dug in this State as early as 1834, but 
these arose from the fact that shipments were made of bul 
lion received from New Mexico and Sonora. The existence 
of gold in California had doubtless been known in a limited 
way, but the first known working of a mine is that recorded 
above. S. F. Bulletin, May, 1868. 



OME time since we alluded to the famous apos 
trophe to water which John B. Gough, the elo 
quent lecturer on temperance, has repeated to 
electrified thousands in America and England. 
Mr. Gough never informed an audience that he 
was no^ the author of the apostrophe, and for years he has 
enjoyed the undisputed credit of it. We stated that it 
originated with Paul Denton, an itinerant of the Methodist 
Church in Texas, and that it was delivered at a barbecue 
which Denton had prepared, and to which he invited the 
Rangers. It has been years since we read the incident, and 
we are delighted to find it in an exchange, credited to a 
Texas paper. We feel sure our readers will be equally de 
lighted with its perusal : 

The smoking viands were arranged on the tables by scores 
of slaves, and the throng prepared to commence the sump 
tuous meal, when a voice pealed from the pulpit, loud as 
the blast of a trumpet in battle, " Stay, ladies and gentle 
men, till the giver of the barbecue asks God s blessing!" 
Every heart thrilled, every eye was directed to the speaker, 
and a whisperless silence ensued, for all alike were struck 
by his remarkable appearance. He was almost a giant in 
stature, though scarcely thirty years of age. His hair, dark 
as the raven s wing, flowed down his immense shoulders in 
masses of natural ringlets ; his eyes, black as midnight, 
beamed like stars over a face pale as Parian marble calm, 
passionless, spiritual, and wearing a singular, indefinable 
expression. The heterogeneous crowd hunters, gamblers, 
and homicides gazed in mute astonishment. The minister 
prayed, but it sounded like no other prayer ever addressed 
to the Throne of Grace. It was the cry of a naked soul, 
and that soul a beggar for the bread and the water of heav 
enly life. 

He ceased, and not till then did I become conscious of 
weeping. I looked around through my tears and saw hun 
dreds of faces wet as with rain. 


"Now, my friends," said the missionary, "partake of 
God 1 s gifts at the table, and then come and sit down and lis 
ten to his Gospel." 

It would be impossible to describe the sweet tone of kind 
ness in which these simple words were uttered, that made 
Mm on the instant five hundred friends. One heart, how 
ever, in the assembly, was maddened at the evidence of the 
preacher s wonderful power. 

Colonel Watt Foreman exclaimed, in a sneering voice, 
"Mr. Denton, your reverence has lied. You promised us 
not only a good barbecue, but better liquor. Where is the 

" There !" answered the missionary, in tones of thunder, 
and pointing his motionless linger at the matchless Double 
Spring gushing up in two strong columns, with a shout like 
a shout of joy, from the bosom of the earth. " There !" he 
repeated, with a look terrible as lightning, while his enemy 
actually trembled at his feet. "There is the liquor which 
God, the Eternal, brews for his children not in the sim 
mering still, over smoky fires, choked with poisonous gases 
and surrounded with the stench of sickening odors and rank 
corruption, doth your Father in Heaven prepare the precious 
essence of life, the pure cold water but in the green glade 
and grassy dell, where the red deer wanders and the child 
loves to play, there God himself brews it ; and down down 
in the deep valleys, where the fountains murmur and the 
rills sing ; and high on the tall mountain-tops, where the 
naked granite glitters like gold in the sun where the storm 
cloud broods and the thunder tones crash ; and away far out 
on the wide, wide sea, where the hurricane howls music, 
and the big waves roar the chorus, i sweeping the march of 
God, there he brews it, that beverage of life health -giv 
ing water. And everywhere it is a thing of beauty gleam 
ing in the dew-drop singing in the summer rain shining 
in the ice-gem, till the trees all seem turned to living jewels 
spreading a golden veil over the setting sun, or a white 
gauze around the midnight moon sporting in the cataract- 
sleeping in the glacier dancing in the hail shower folding 
its "bright snow curtains softly about the wintry world 


weaving the many-colored iris, that seraph s zone of the 
sky, whose roof is the sunbeams of heaven, all checked 
over with celestial flowers by the mystic hand of refraction. 
Still always it is beautiful that blessed life-water. No poi 
son bubbles on its brink its foam brings not madness no 
blood stains its liquid glass pale widows and starving 
orphans weep not burning tears in its clear depths no 
drunkard s shrieking ghost from the grave curses it in 
words of eternal despair ! Speak out, my friends ; would 
you exchange it for the demon s drink alcohol?" 

A shout like the roar of a tempest answered, "No !" 
Pitlsburg Dispatch. 


lF two bodies were placed in space, without 
any force acting upon either of them other than 

their own gravity, they would immediately start 

toward each other, and would rush together. 

The sun and planets, which, constitute the stel 
lar system, to which our solar system belongs, are pre 
vented from rushing together into one mass by their revolu 
tions about each other. The revolutions of the planets 
around our sun, and of the satellites about their primaries, 
have been ascertained, with that wonderful precision which 
is the just pride of astronomical science, and astronomers 
are now engaged in the sublime problem of unraveling the 
revolutions of the countless suns that make up our stellar 
system. Already the cluster of the Pleiades is indicated as 
the proximate locality of the center around which our sun, 
with his attendant planets, is sweeping his vast orbit ; and 
it is suggested that this is probably the common center of 
the orbits of all the suns of our stellar system. 

If the force of gravity extends across the inconceivable 
spaces which separate the several stellar systems of the 
universe, these systems must rush together, unless they are 
held apart by revolutions around each other. 


If light were an emanation, as held by Newton, the spaces 
between the solid bodies of the universe might be absolutely 
empty ; and, in that case, the revolutions of the bodies 
around each other might go on forever. On the other hand, 
if light is a vibration in a subtle fluid, this fluid must ob 
struct the motions of bodies revolving in it, and they must 
finally come together in one mass. The experiment, so 
ingeniously devised by Arago, and carried out with such 
honorable regard for the fame of its designer by Messrs. 
Foucault, Fizeau, and Breguet, to determine whether there 
is a difference in the velocity of light in its passage through 
air and water, has demonstrated that light is a vibration. 
It follows from this that, as far as light extends, space is 
filled with a material fluid, which resists the motions of 
bodies revolving in it, and bodies within this space must 
gradually wind their way inward, and ultimately come 
together into one mass. 

The moon must be drawing very slowly nearer and nearer 
to the earth, and the two bodies, in the far distant future, 
will come together. The solid crust of the earth will be 
broken up by the shock, an immense quantity of heat will 
be generated by the destruction of the moon s motion, and 
the two bodies will fuse together into one molten globe. As 
the new and enlarged earth is cooled upon its surface, a 
second series of geological deposits will be constituted, ac 
companied, perhaps, by strange and inconceivable forms of 
animal and vegetable life. 

At the same time, the earth is winding its way inward 
toward the sun, and must ultimately fall, an inconsiderable 
pebble, into that vast, glowing mass. The same fate awaits 
all the planets, and our solar system must one day be but a 
single globe. When this globe is cooled to the right tem 
perature, it may be covered with a multitude of inhabitants, 
and astronomers may arise who will watch its revolutions 
among the associated suns of our stellar system. If their 
knowledge and intellect are equal to the science of our 
astronomers, they will foresee the ultimate coming together 
of all these suns into one common globe. And not this 
only, for they will predict the final coming together of all 


the stellar systems of the visible universe into one mass of 

When this mass is first collected, it will be intensely hot, 
from the destruction of motion in the several suns and 
systems of suns as they come together. The heat will be 
radiated outward into the universe, and the one mass of 
matter will be gradually cooled. During the cooling, there 
will be the same play and mutual interchange of heat, elec 
tricity, light, magnetism, and other imponderable forces that 
there is now upon this earth. As the cooling proceeds, the 
action of these forces will diminish ; when 977 is reached , 
light will cease, and darkness will fill the universe. As 
each vibration of heat leaves the surface of the material 
mass, it will expand outward, at the rate of 192,000 miles 
per second, in all directions, in the form of a swiftly swell 
ing, hollow globe. When the temperature of absolute cold 
is reached (493.2), the last vibration of heat will leave the 
mass of matter, and will expand outward through infinity 
of space and time. 

Supposing, however, the ethereal fluid which fills the 
visible portion of the universe is limited in extent, so that 
the last vibration of heat will reach its boundaries, and 
cease, what then becomes of the force of the universe, and 
of the doctrine of the conservation of force ? Scientific 


A Neio Yearns Legend of Spanish California. 

HE year of Grace 1797 passed away on the coast 
of California in a southwesterly gale. The 
little bay of San Carlos, albeit sheltered by the 
headlands of the blessed Trinity, was rough 
and turbulent ; its foam clung quivering to the 
seaward wall of the Mission garden ; the air was filled with 
flying sand and spume, and as the Senor Comandante, 
Hermenegildo Salvatierra, looked from the deep embrasured 
window of the Presidio guard-room, he felt the salt breath 



of the distant sea buffet a color into his smoke-dried cheeks. 
The Commander, I have said, was gazing thoughtfully 
from the window of the guard-room. He may have been 
reviewing the events of the year now about to pass away. 
But, like the garrison at the Presidio, there was little to 
review ; the year, like its predecessor, had been uneventful 
the days had slipped by in a delicious monotony of simple 
duties unbroken by incident or interruption. The regu 
larly recurring feasts and Saints days, the half-yearly 
courier from San Diego, the rare transport ship, and rarer 
foreign vessel, were the mere details of his patriarchal life. 
If there was no achievement, there was certainly no failure. 
Abundant harvests and patient industry amply supplied 
the wants of Presidio and Mission. Isolated from the 
family of nations, the wars which shook the world con 
cerned them not so much as the last earthquake ; the 
struggle that emancipated their sister colonies on the other 
side of the continent to them had no suggest! veness. In 
short, it was that glorious Indian summer of California!! 
history, around which so much poetical haze still lingers 
that bland, indolent autumn of Spanish rule, so soon to be 
followed by the wintry storms of Mexican independence, 
and the reviving spring of American conquest. 

The Commander turned from the window, and walked 
toward the fire that burned brightly on the deep oven-like 
hearth. A pile of copy-books, the work of the Presidio 
school, lay on the table. As he turned over the leaves, with 
a paternal interest, and surveyed the fair, round Scripture 
textthe first pious pot-hooks of the pupils of San Carlos 
an audible commentary fell from his lips : " Abimelech 
took her from Abraham ah, little one, excellent ! Jacob 
sent to see his brother body of Christ ! that up-stroke of 
thine, Pachita, is marvelous ; the Governor shall see it !" 
A film of honest pride dimmed the Commander s left eye 
the right, alas ! twenty years before had been sealed by an 
Indian arrow. He rubbed it softly with the sleeve of his 
leather jacket, and continued : " < The Ishmaelites having 

He stopped, for there was a step in the court-yard, a foot 


upon the threshold, and a stranger entered. With the in 
stinct of an old soldier, the Commander, after one glance at 
the intruder, turned quickly toward the wall, where his 
trusty Toledo hung, or should have been hanging. But it 
was not there ; and, as the Commander recalled that the last 
time he had seen that weapon it was "being ridden up and 
down the gallery "by Pepito, the infant son of Bautista, the 
tortilla maker, he blushed, and then contented himself with 
frowning upon the intruder. 

But the stranger s air, though irreverent, was decidedly 
peaceful. He was unarmed, and wore the ordinary cape of 
tarpaulin and sea-boots of a mariner. Except a villainous 
smell of cod-fish, there was little about him that was 

His name, as he informed the Commander, in Spanish, 
that was more fluent than elegant or precise his name was 
Peleg Scudder He was master of the schooner General 
Court, of the port of Salem, in Massachusetts, on a trading 
voyage to the South Seas, but now driven by stress of 
weather into the bay of San Carlos. He begged permission 
to ride out the gale under the headlands of the blessed 
Trinity, and no more. Water he did not need, having 
taken in a supply at Bodega. He knew the strict surveil 
lance of the Spanish port regulations in regard to foreign 
vessels, and would do nothing against the severe discipline 
and good order of the settlement. There was a slight tinge 
of sarcasm in his tone, as he glanced toward the desolate 
parade ground of the Presidio and the open unguarded gate. 
The fact was, that the sentry, Felipe Gomez, had discreetly 
retired to shelter at the beginning of the storm, and was 
then sound asleep in the corridor. 

The Commander hesitated. The port regulations were 
severe, but he was accustomed to exercise individual author 
ity, and beyond an old order, issued ten years before, regard 
ing the American ship Columbia, there was no precedent to 
guide him. The storm was severe, and a sentiment of 
humanity urged him to grant the stranger s request. It is 
but just to the Commander to say that his inability to en 
force a refusal did not weigh with his decision. He would 


have denied, with equal disregard of consequences, that 
right to a seventy-four gun ship which he now yielded so 
gracefully to this Yankee trading schooner. He stipulated 
only that there should be no communication between the 
ship and shore. "For yourself, Senor Captain," he con 
tinued, " accept my hospitality. The fort is yours as long 
as you shall grace it with your distinguished presence;" 
and, with old-fashioned courtesy, he made the semblance 
of withdrawing from the guard-room. 

Master Peleg Sc udder smiled as he thought of the half- 
dismantled fort, the two moldy brass cannon, cast in Man 
ila a century previous, and the shiftless garrison. A wild 
thought of accepting the Commander s offer literally con 
ceived in the reckless spirit of a man who never let slip an 
offer for trade for a moment filled Ids brain, but a timely 
reflection of the commercial unimportance of the transaction 
checked him. He only took a capacious quid of tobacco, 
as the Commander gravely drew a settle before the lire, and, 
in honor of his guest untied the black silk handkerchief 
that bound his grizzled brows. 

What passed between Salvatierra and his guest that night, 
it becomes me not, as a grave chronicler of the salient points 
of history, to relate. I have said that Master Peleg Scudder 
was a fluent talker, and under the influence of divers strong 
waters furnished by his host he became still more loqua 
cious. And think of a man with a twenty years budget of 
gossip ! The Commander learned for the first time how 
Great Britain lost her colonies ; of the French Revolution ; 
of the Great Napoleon, whose achievements perhaps Peleg 
colored more highly than the Commander s superiors would 
have liked. And when Peleg turned questioner, the Com 
mander was at his mercy. He gradually made himself mas 
ter of the gossip of the Mission and Presidio, the "small 
beer" chronicles of that pastoral age, the conversion of the 
heathen, the Presidio schools, and even asked the Com 
mander how he had lost his eye ! It is said that at this point 
of the conversation Master Peleg produced from about his 
person divers small trinkets, kick-shaws and new-fangled 
trifles, and even forced some of them upon his host. It is 


further alleged that under the malign influence of Peleg, and 
several glasses of aguadientc, the Commander lost some 
what of his decorum and behaved in a manner unseemly for 
one in his position, reciting high-flown Spanish poetry, and 
even piping in a thin, high voice, divers madrigals and 
heathen canzonets of an amorous complexion chiefly in 
regard to a "little one" who was his, the Commander s 
" soul !" These allegations, perhaps unworthy the notice 
of a serious chronicler, should be received with great cau 
tion, and are introduced here as simple hearsay. That the 
Commander, however, took a handkerchief and attempted 
to show his guest the mysteries of the sembi-cuacua, caper 
ing in an agile but indecorous manner about the apartment, 
I utterly deny. Enough for the purposes of this narrative, 
that at midnight Peleg assisted his host to bed with many 
protestations of undying friendship, and then as the gale 
had abated, took his leave of the Presidio and hurried aboard 
the General Court. When the day broke the ship was 

I know not if Peleg kept his word with his host. It is 
said that the holy Fathers at the Mission that night heard a 
loud chanting in the plaza, as of the heathens singing psalms 
through their noses, that for many days after, an odor of 
salt codfish prevailed in the settlement, that a dozen hard 
nutmegs which were unfit for spice or seed, were found in 
the possession of the wife of the baker, and that several 
bushels of shoe-pegs which bore a pleasing resemblance to 
oats, but were quite inadequate to the purposes of proven 
der, were discovered in the stable of the blacksmith. But 
when the reader reflects upon the sacredness of a Yankee 
trader s word, the stringent discipline of the Spanish port 
regulations, and the proverbial indisposition of my country 
men to impose upon the confidence of a simple people, he 
will at once reject this part of the story. 

A roll of drums, ushering in the year 1798, awoke the 
Commander. The sun was shining brightly and the storm 


had ceased. He sat up in bed, and through the force of 
habit rubbed his left eye. As the remembrance of tlie pre 
vious night came back to him, he jumped from his couch 
and ran to the window. There was no ship in the bay. A 
sudden thought seemed to strike the Commander, and he 
rubbed both of his eyes. Not content with this he con 
sulted the metallic mirror which hung beside his crucifix. 
There was no mistake. The Commander had a visible 
second eye a right one as good, save for the purposes of 
vision, as the left. 

Whatever might have been the true secret of this trans 
formation, but one opinion prevailed at San Carlos. It was 
one of those rare miracles vouchsafed a pious Catholic com 
munity as an evidence to the heathen, through the interces 
sion of the blessed San Carlos himself. That their beloved 
Commander, the temporal defender of the Faith, should be 
the recipient of this miraculous manifestation, was most fit 
and seemly. The Commander himself was reticent ; he 
could not tell a falsehood he dare not tell the truth. After 
all, if the good folk of San Carlos believed that the powers 
of his right eye were actually restored, was it wise and dis 
creet for him to undeceive them ? For the first time in his 
life, the Commander thought of policy ; for the first time, 
he quoted that text which has been the lure of so many 
well-meaning but easy Christians, of being " all things to 
all men." Infelix Hermenegildo Salvatierra ! Through 
thy foolish pride crept the arch-enemy into thy soul; 
through thy weakness fell the fair fortunes of San Carlos ! 

For by degrees an ominous whisper crept through the 
little settlement. The right eye of the Commander, al 
though miraculous, seemed to exercise a baleful effect upon 
the beholder. No one could look at it without winking. 
It was cold, hard, relentless and unflinching. More than 
that, it seemed to be endowed with a dreadful prescience 
a faculty of seeing through and into the inarticulate 
thoughts of those it looked upon. The soldiers of the gar 
rison obeyed the eye rather than the voice of their Com 
mander, and answered his glance rather than his lips in 
questioning. The servants could not evade the ever- watch- 


ful, but cold attention that seemed to pursue them. The 
children of the Presidio school smirched their copy-books 
under the awful supervision, and poor Pachita, the prize 
pupil, failed utterly in that marvelous up-stroke when her 
patron stood beside her. Gradually distrust, suspicion, 
self-accusation, and timidity, took the place of trust, con 
fidence, and security throughout San Carlos. Wherever 
the right eye of the Commander fell, a shadow fell with it. 

Nor was Salvatierra entirely free from the baleful influ 
ence of his miraculous acquisition. Unconscious of its 
effect upon others, he only saw in their actions evidence of 
certain things that the crafty Peleg had hinted on that 
eventful New Year s Eve. His most trusty retainers stam 
mered, blushed, and faltered before him. Self-accusations, 
confessions of minor faults and delinquencies, or extrava 
gant excuses and apologies, met his mildest inquiries. The 
very children that he loved his pet pupil, Pachita seemed 
to be conscious of some hidden sin. The result of this con 
stant irritation showed itself more plainly. For the first 
half year, the Commander s voice and eye w^ere at variance. 
He was still kind, tender, and thoughtful in speech. Grad 
ually, however, his voice took upon itself the hardness of 
his glance, and its skeptical, impassive quality, and as the 
year again neared its close, it was plain that the Com 
mander had fitted himself to the eye, and not the eye to 
the Commander. 

It may be surmised that these changes did not escape the 
watchful solicitude of the Fathers. Indeed, the few who 
were first to ascribe the right eye of Salvatierra to miracu 
lous origin, and the special grace of the blessed San Carlos, 
now talked openly of witchcraft and the agency of Luzbel, 
the evil one. It would have fared ill with Hermenegildo 
Salvatierra had he been aught but Commander, or amen 
able to local authority. But the reverend Father, Friar 
Manuel de Cortes, had no power over the political execu 
tive, and all attempts at spiritual advice failed signally. 
He retired baffled and confused from his first interview with 
the Commander, who seemed now to take a grim satisfac 
tion in the fateful power of his glance. The holy Father 


contradicted himself, exposed the fallacies of his own argu 
ments, and even, it is asserted, committed himself to several 
undoubted heresies. When the Commander stood up at 
mass, if the officiating priest caught that skeptical and 
searching eye, the service was inevitably ruined. Even 
the power of the Holy Church seemed to be lost, and the 
last hold upon the affections of the people and the good 
order of the settlement departed from San Carlos. 

The long dry summer passed. As each fierce day "burned 
itself out in little whiffs of pearl-gray smoke on the moun 
tain summits, the low hills that surrounded the white walls 
of the Presidio grew more and more to resemble in hue the 
leathern jacket of the Commander, and nature herself 
seemed to have borrowed his dry hard glare. The earth 
was cracked and seamed with drought ; a blight had fallen 
upon the orchards and vineyards, and the rain, long de 
layed and ardently prayed for, came not. The sky was as 
tearless as the right eye of the Commander. Murmurs of 
discontent, insubordination and plotting among the Indians 
reached his ears ; he only set his teeth the more firmly, 
tightened the knot of his black silk headkerchief, and looked 
up his Toledo. 

The last day of the year 1798 found the Commander sit 
ting, at the hour of evening prayers, alone in the guard 
room. He no longer attended the services of the Holy 
Church, but crept away at such times to some solitary spot, 
where he spent the interval in silent meditation. The fire 
light played upon the low beams and rafters, but left the 
bowed figure of Salvatierra in darkness. Sitting thus, he 
felt a small hand touch his arm, and looking down saw the 
figure of Pachita, his little Indian pupil, at his knee. " Ah, 
littlest of all," said the Commander, with something of his 
old tenderness, lingering with wonderful sweetness over the 
endearing diminutives of his native speech "sweet one, 
what doest thou here \ Art thou not afraid of him, whom 
every one shuns and fears ?" 

"No," said the little Indian, readily, "not in the dark. 
I hear your voice the old voice ; I feel your touch the 
old touch ; but I see not your eye, Senor Comandante. 


That I only fear and that, oh, Senor ! Oh, my father," 
said the child, lifting her little arms toward his -" that I 
know is not thine own." 

The Commander shuddered and turned away. Then, 
recovering himself, he kissed Paclnta gravely on the fore 
head and bade her retire. A few hours later, when silence 
had fallen upon the Presidio, he sought his own couch and 
slept peacefully. 

At about the middle watch of the night a dusky figure 
crept through the low embrasure of the Commander s apart 
ment. Other figures were flitting through the parade- 
ground, which the Commander might have seen had he not 
slept so quietly. The intruder stepped noiselessly to the 
couch and listened to the sleeper s deep-drawn inspiration. 
Some thing glittered in the fire-light as the savage lifted his 
arm ; another moment and the sore perplexities of Her- 
menegildo Salvatierra would have been over, when suddenly 
the savage started and fell back in a paroxysm of terror. 
The Commander slept peacefully, but his right eye widely 
opened, fixed and unaltered, glared coldly on the would-be 
assassin. The man fell to the earth in a fit, and the noise 
awoke the sleeper. 

To rise to his feet, grasp his sword, and deal blows thick 
and fast upon the mutinous savages who now thronged the 
room, was the work of a moment. Help opportunely arrived 
and the undisciplined Indians were speedily driven beyond 
the walls, but in the scuffle the Commander received a blow 
upon his right eye, and lifting his hand to that mysterious 
organ it was gone. Never again was it found, and never 
again, for bale or bliss, did it adorn the right orbit of the 

With it passed away the spell that had fallen upon San 
Carlos. The rain returned to invigorate the languid soil, 
harmony was restored to priest and soldier, the green grass 
presently waved over the sere hill-sides, the children flocked 
again to the side of their martial preceptor, a Te Deum was 
sung in the Mission church, and pastoral content once more 
smiled upon the gentle valleys of San Carlos. And for 
southward crept the General Court, with its master, Peleg 



Scudder, trafficking in beads and peltries with the Indians, 
and offering glass eyes, wooden legs, and other Boston 
notions, to the chiefs. Frank Bret Harte, in San Francisco 
Bulletin, January 4, 1867. 


THE bell far off beats midnight ; in the dark 

The sounds have lost their way and wander slowly; 

Through the dead air, beside me, things cry " Hark !" 
And whisper words unholy. 

A hand as soft as velvet taps my cheek ; 

These gusts are from the wings of unseen vampires. 
How the thick dust on that last tome doth speak 

Its themes dead kings and empires ! 

This is the chamber ruined, waste, forlorn 

Shred of its old-time gildings, paint, and splendor ; 

And is there none its dim decay to mourn, 
In mystic strains and tender ? 

Why waits no harper gay, with elfin hand 

On tuneless chords to harshly hail the stranger 

Who treads the brink of an enchanted strand 
In mist and midnight danger ? 

I watch, and am not weary ; all night long 

The stars look shimmering through the yawning casement ; 
And the low ring of their unvarying song 

I hear without amazement. 

How the hours pass ! with that low murmur blent, 

That is a part of time, yet thrills us only 
When all besides is silent and close pent, 

The heart is chilled and lonely. 

I watch, and am not weary : I have heard 

Light steps and whispers pass me, all undaunted ; 

Have seen pale specters glide, where nothing stirred 
Because the place is haunted. 


And wherefore watch I fearless ? Wherefore come 

Those things with windy garments hovering round me ? 

Whence are the tongues, the tones, the stifled hum, 
That welcomed and have bound me ? 

Lo ! on the wall, in mist and gloom high reared, 

A luminous face adorns the structure hoary ; 
Light-bearded, hazel-eyed, and auburn-haired, 

And bright with a strange glory. 

Tis but the semblance of a long dead one 

A light that shines, and is not clouds are o er it ; 

Yet, in the realms of thought, it beams a sun 
And stars grow pale before it. 

There, tend the tones ; through that wan atmosphere 
Glide the faint specters with a stately motion ; 

Slowly as cloudy ships to sunset steer 
Along the airy ocean. 

Shades of the great, but unremembered dead, 

Mourn there, and moaning, ever restless, wander ; 

For in the presence of that pictured head, 
Their waning shapes grow grander. 

And here watch I, beneath those eyes sublime, 

A listing to the soft, resounding numbers, 
That float like wind along the waves of time, 

And cheat me of my slumbers. 

But who shall calm the restless sprites that rove 

In the mute presence of that painted poet ? 
In vain their triumph in old wars or love ; 

No future times shall know it. 

For, " oh !" they cry, " his song has named us not ! 

He stretched no hand to lift the pall flung o er us." 
And still they moan and shriek " forgot ! forgot !" 

In faint and shivering chorus. 

Mightiest of all my master ! Dare but I 

Touch the shrunk chords thy hand divine hath shaken, 

How would the heroes of the days gone by 
Throng round me and awaken ! 


Oh ! many a heart the worthiest many a heart 

Cold now but once an angel s warm, bright dwelling 

Waits but the minstrel s wizard hand to start 
With life immortal swelling ! 

And thou, so missed, where art thou? On what sphere 
Of nightless glory hast thou built thine altar ? 

What shining hosts bow down thy song to hear 
Thy heart, the harp, and psalter ? 

Thy dust is mingled with thy native sod 

Exhaled like dew thy soul that ranged unbounded ; 
But who shall dare to tread where Shakespeare trod 

Or strike the harp he sounded ? 



JHE first masonic funeral that ever took place in 
California occurred in the year 1849, arid was 
performed over the body of a brother found 
drowned in the Bay of San Francisco. An 
account of the ceremony states that on the 
body of the deceased was found a silver mark of Mason, 
upon which was engraved the initials of his name. A little 
further investigation revealed to the beholders the most 
singular exhibition of masonic emblems that were ever 
drawn by the ingenuity of man upon the human skin. 
There is nothing in the history or traditions of Freemasonry 
equal to it. Beautifully dotted on his left arm, in red or 
blue ink, which time could not efface, appeared all the em 
blems of the Entered Apprentice. There were the Holy Bible, 
the square, and the compass, the twenty-four-inch gauge, 
and the common gavel. There were also the Mosaic pave 
ment representation of the ground-floor of King Solomon s 
temple, the identical tessel which surrounds it, and the 
blazing star in the center. On his right arm, and artifi 
cially executed in the same indelible liquids, were the 


emblems pertaining to the fellow craft, viz. : the plumb, 
the square, and the level. There were also the five columns 
representing the five orders of architecture the Tuscan, 
Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite. 

In removing the garments from his body, the trowel 
presented itself, with all the working tools of operative 
masonry, besides all the emblems peculiar to the degree 
of a master mason. Conspicuously on his breast were the 
lights of masonry. Over his heart was the pot of incense. 
On the other parts of his body were the bee-hive, the book 
of constitutions, guarded by the Tyler s sword ; the sword 
pointing to a naked heart ; all-seeing Eye ; the anchor and 
ark, the holy-glass, the scythe, the forty-seventh problem 
of Euclid ; the sun, moon, stars, and comet, the three steps, 
emblematical of youth, manhood, and age. Admirably 
executed was the weeping virgin, reclining on a broken 
column, upon which lay the book of constitutions. In her 
left hand she held the pot of incense, the emblem of a pure 
heart ; and in her uplifted hand a sprig of acacia, the 
emblem of the immortality of the soul. Immediately be 
neath her stood winged Time, with his scythe by his side, 
which cuts the brittle thread of life, and the hour-glass at 
his feet, which is ever reminding us that our lives are 
withering away. The withered and attenuated fingers of 
the destroyer were delicately placed amid the long and 
gracefully flowing ringlets of the disconsolate mourner. 
Thus were the striking emblems of mortality and immor 
tality beautifully blended in one pictorial representation. 
It was a spectacle such as masons never saw before, and 
in all probability such as the fraternity will never witness 
again. The brother 1 s nam e was never known. Sacramento 
State Capital Reporter, May 27, 1868. 



N" personal appearance lie was tall, spare, slender 
and muscular. There was not an ounce 6f sur 
plus flesh upon his whole body. He possessed 
more than ordinary physical strength, ttut it con 
sisted more in activity and endurance, and in 
prompt, resolute, and fearless energy, than in what we are 
accustomed to call "brute strength. It was not the strength 
of the giant, but that of a high-souled, fearless hero, who 
would confront a legion of giants if necessary to defend the 
weak or to succor the oppressed. He had a lofty, command 
ing head, and a highly intellectual forehead. But his whole 
soul was visible in his dark-gray eye. I never saw such an 
eye in any other human head. It was kind and gentle, reso 
lute and intellectual. It was as tender at times as the eye 
of a woman as piercing at times as the eye of an eagle and 
there were times in Andrew Jackson s life, when that dark 
gray eye was as terrible as the eye of the roused lion. No 
danger, moral or physical, could make it quail. Then it 
was a thoroughly honest eye. It loved and respected truth 
and justice, and hated and despised fraud and falsehood, 
and every kind of dishonorable action. Andrew Jackson 
was born a hero, and every man who approached him had 
to recognize him as such, that is, as a man formed by nature 
to be the leader of Ms fellow-men, in any great human emer 


Daniel Webster was a man of entirely different type. He 
was not so tall as Andrew Jackson, but slow and thought 
ful, rather than active, and more resolute and fearless. In 
fact, the whole man seemed to have been cast in a solid, 
massive, powerful mold. Every thing about him, even to 
his manner of walking and talking, indicated power, posi 
tive power, solid power, power that would neither seek nor 


slmn exertion, "but which, if once raised into full exertion, 
might become almost irresistible. But how shall I de 
scribe his head ? I have never seen such another head upon 
a human body I never expect to see such another human 
head again. In size, weight, magnitude, and capacity, it 
was absolute, stupendous, and, though finely shaped, it 
would have appeared perfectly enormous had it not had a 
proportionably powerful body to support it. But the col 
umn seemed to have been made expressly to uphold the 
majestic capital. His forehead was in harmony with the 
head, large, broad, lofty, and massive. The huge brain 
had expanded and pressed it forward until it had overshad 
owed the other features of his face. His eyes were large, 
dark, and deep set, and filled with a strange, smoldering, 
intellectual light. There was a singular look in that dark, 
deep eye. It never seemed to look at your form or features, 
but at your soul. You felt when it turned upon you, that 
it was taking the gauge of your mind, and weighing your 
intellectual value as a unit in the sum of humanity. The 
other features of his face were well-formed, very regular, 
and intellectual, giving an air of composure and refinement 
to his dark and dignified countenance. But in my judg 
ment, the grand characteristic of Daniel Webster was not 
activity or energy, but power, physical and intellectual. 
His moral attributes were not on a level with his other 
great qualities. His great defect was self-indulgence, and 
therefore it must be conceded that he had but little of the 
martyr or the true hero in his composition. But in tran 
scendent, intellectual greatness, Daniel Webster, in my 
opinion, has had but few equals, either in ancient or mod 
ern times. 


Henry Clay was a man of an entirely different type. He 
was a thorough Western man ; tall and slender, with a frank, 
careless, genial, fearless manner. He had a large, manly 
head, and a lofty, intellectual forehead. He had fair hair, 
fair complexion, and blue eyes. His eye was bright, frank, 
open, intellectual, and fearless. It was an eminently prac- 


tical eye. It just saw the world as it was, and understood 
it perfectly, and knew how to make the "best of it on all 
occasions. The other features of his face were wanting in 
regularity, and might be called remarkably plain, but the 
glow of generous feeling and intelligence that overspread 
his whole countenance was unmistakable. And when ani 
mated in debate, that frank, open, manly countenance 
underwent a transfiguration that made it appear positively 
handsome and the ladies, who ought to be the best of 
judges in such cases, esteemed Henry Clay at all times, the 
most captivating man of the age. But the principal charm 
about Henry Clay was his incomparable voice. That mar 
velous voice was capable of unlimited modulation, and of 
expressing with the highest possible perfection every passion 
and emotion of the soul. When he rose in his place in the 
Senate to make one of those inimitable speeches, which, for 
the time being, swept every thing before them, it was inter 
esting to witness the effect of his .voice and manner upon 
the audience. Before he had uttered a half a dozen senten 
ces you would hear a rustling of silk dresses, as if a breeze 
of autumn wind had swept through the galleries, from the 
commotion and excitement among the ladies. And as he 
proceeded with his discourse this excitement would increase 
and communicate itself to the whole audience Senate and 
all. The effect for the time-being was utterly irresistible, 
and therefore indescribable. Gen. James SJdelds. 


EARLY four months ago I had the privilege of 
climbing to the top of Mount Diablo, which 
rises like an enchanted billow, from the plain. 
(From San Francisco we see only one mountain 
and one peak. Here you see two. Is this a 
sign that in Stockton you have had a double share of the 


power of Satan to contend with ?) How glorious the view 
was from the highest peak in May ! Sweeps and slopes of 
green, such as no artist s colors at the East could imitate, 
the San Joaquin plains beneath, emerged from their flood, 
embroidered with flowers, and bursting into the promise 
which this week fulfills the San Joaquin itself so dingy 
that it looked as though it flowed molten from Copperopolis 
the sea showing its unruffled azure far-off between the 
cliffs of the Golden Gate ; and on the east the snowy guards 
of all your opulence, the mighty bulwark of the Sierra, 
visible for two hundred and fifty miles its lower slopes as 
rich in gold as their crests at evening with the gold of sun 
set ; its further slopes veined with silver only less white 
and pure than those great crests at noon ! 

One sees in a moment from that elevation, in early May, 
what a bounteous and wonderful district it is which your 
Society represents. But suppose that some one with a 
powerful telescope could be lifted to that eminence in early 
September, and make his first acquaintance then with your 
district and the State ! What would his impression be ? 
Would he not suppose that he was lifted over a boundless 
desert ? Would he not believe that the six rainless months 
were a virtual curse of Providence sealed into the sallow 
landscape ? Would he not imagine that if any inhabitants 
dwelt there, they were fed either by manna or by bacon 
from the East I Would he not behold, in the wide-spread 
desolation, and in the hot, thick air, the fulfillment of the 
doom of death upon Nature "Dust thou art, and unto 
dust thou shalt return?" 

What would our visitor on this height be likely to say, 
if told that the landscape, so brown and lugubrious beneath 
him, inclosed an agricultural opulence of which the figures 
seem almost miraculous ; that its grain crops average double 
those of the Eastern States ; that fruits were then ripening 
all around him in surpassing luxuriance and beauty ; and 
that the growth of the grape in that blasted landscape, 
during the last three years, surpasses any thing known in 
the most favored districts of the Rhine lands France or 
Italy ? What would he say, if his telescope should bring 


within vision all that the District Fairs and the State Fair 
will collect during this month to attest the strength and 
richness of our soil ? He would see, to his amazement, that 
the State which seems given over, in a general view, to the 
"abomination of desolation," is really the field of two 
immense " horns of plenty, one widening do \vnward from 
the pinnacle of Mt. Shasta, the other widening upward from 
the mountains of San Bernardino, crammed with the riches 
of granaries and orchards, and overflowing all upon the 
metropolis in the center of the coast line by the Golden 
Gate ! He would see that we are called upon by our 
copious blessings to be the most grateful and the most 
patriotic people on the globe. 

Let me say, first, that the farmers here are to be congratu 
lated on the intrinsic nobleness of their office and labor. 
All honest labor is noble. But in respect to physical toil, 
it is impossible to conquer the instinct of the race, which 
assigns greater dignity to the skillful industry expended 
directly upon mother earth. 

If an aroma could always attend gold, telling you what 
ways it was gained, whether it was inherited or won by 
enterprise and skill, and if earned, whether in ways 
useful or hurtful to the higher interests of society, there 
would be no danger of a mean worship of money. If 
a man s silver and gold told the story at once whether he 
earned it in making sugar or turning it into liquor in rais 
ing wheat or in speculating on it in weaving honest cloth 
or in weaving shoddy in putting soles to shoes for soldiers 
or sham ones which prove that the makers hadn t any soul 
at all in spinning cotton or in serving as one of the crowd 
of unnecessary agents in its distribution, money would 
carry its own judgment with it. 

In any such system, the farmer need not fear to let the 
aroma of his money expend itself far and wide. It would 
sprinkle the wholesomeness of winds, the perfume of blos 
soms, the strengthening smell of the soil, the fragrance of 
noblest uses. 

The farmer that pays his debts can t get rich dishonestly 
in the sight of heaven. There can t be too much wheat, too 


many noble cattle, too much wool, an excess of excellent 
peaches and pears, too many pumpkins, or even too great a 
crowd of cabbages, if they are not eaten so immoderately as 
to come to a head again on human shoulders. 

The two noblest classes of labor are the extremes those 
expended on the material soil, and upon the mental and 
spiritual regions those that improve the earth and that 
make humanity more fertile the men who give us beets and 
grapes, and the men who give us ideas ; the productive 
thinkers who show the fields can double their products 
without waste, and those who improve the capacity of the 
human mind and hand ; the men who labor wisely for the 
fulfillment of the world s prayer, "Give us this day our 
daily bread," and the men who, by their genius and service, 
prove to us the immense significance of that other passage 
of instruction, " Man shall not live by bread alone, but by 
every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." 

The land is the noblest of the gifts of God to humanity. 
A full treatise on agriculture its annals and vicissitudes 
would be a history of human society from Eden to the stak 
ing out of the last "claim" in Iowa or Oregon. The first 
step from the nomadic state upward toward stable civiliza 
tion is into the feeling of personal possession of the soil. 
The fence is the first rude boundary between savagism and 

It requires 800 acres of land, we are told, to supply a 
hunter as much food as half an acre will furnish under 
cultivation. And on the 800 acre system of supply, society 
is impossible ; education is impossible ; trades and arts are 
out of the question ; combinations of power and interchange 
of products and help are unattainable. Just in proportion 
as the land is better tilled, and a smaller quantity of it is 
made to yield rich returns, the progress of the race is aided, 
and becomes manifest. 

In dealing with the land man is called to be a co-worker 
with the infinite mind. This is the foundation of the 
nobleness of the farmer s office. 

The air is given to us. We can not alter its constitution, 
or change its currents. The sea is not placed under our 


dominion. We can not freshen it, or increase its saltness ; 
we can not level or raise its billows. The rain is ordained 
for each latitude, and we can not hasten or vary the bounty 
of the clouds. Minerals are provided in a definite, unalter 
able measure by the creative force. But the soil we can 
make our own. We can increase and renew its richness. 
God does not make it to be a fixed or self-perpetuating 
blessing like the atmosphere and the ocean. It is a trust. 
So much He will do for it ; but a very great deal is left 
for us to be faithful in. In the management of the soil, 
the Creator takes us into partnership. And on our fidelity, 
within the bounds of our trust, the progress of success 

The greatness of the trust is seen in this that agriculture 
requires the greatest amount and variety of knowledge, and 
is everywhere latent in its development. We are only 
now entering upon the study of it. Nation after nation has 
withered and shriveled because it could not manage its land 
because it had not science enough, vigor enough, virtue 
enough to organize the State so that the soil could be 
thoroughly tilled and refreshed. As soon as the land be 
gins to yield regularly decreasing stores, so that small 
farms are absorbed into larger ones, and poverty creeps 
toward the farmer s hearth, there is radical evil in the State. 
Its prosperity is not rightly based. Its roots are feeble. It 
has begun to die. It is not able to sustain the tremendous 
partnership with Providence in making the soil creative. 

In fact, we shall not reach the right point for appreciat 
ing the eminence of agriculture as a duty, a profession, and 
a trust, until we see that the earth is not yet finished. The 
Creator has left part of the fashioning to man, or rather 
waits work through man in perfecting it. The air comes 
up to the divine idea. The sea also answers to the majesty 
of God s first conception of it. The clouds correspond in 
their charms of form and glory of color to the archetypes of 
them in the divine imagination. The highest mountain 
tops, of splintered crag or dazzling snow, can not be im 
proved any more than they can be altered by the power 
and wit of man. 


But the earth does not yet fulfill the divine intention. It 
was not made for nettles, nor for the manzanita and chapar 
ral. It was made for grain, for orchards, for the vine, for 
the comfort and luxuries of thrifty homes. It was made 
for these through the educated, organized, and moral labor 
of man. As plows run deeper, as irrigation is better under 
stood and observed, as the capacity of different soils are 
comprehended, as types of vegetation are. improved, as 
economy in the renewal of the vitality of the land is 
learned and practiced, the process of creation goes on ; chaos 
subsides ; the divine power and beauty appear in Nature. 

In the first chapter of Genesis we read that God said, on 
the third day, "Let the waters under the heavens be 
gathered together into one place, and let the dry land ap 
pear ; and it was so." But this third day s work is not 
yet over. It was only in the general and "in the rough" 
that the separation first took place. The best lands of the 
globe are still saturated and swampy. Man is to complete 
the fulfillment of that command. Drainage is the process 
that perfects it. Every acre of opulent bog and bounteous 
tule from which the coarse grasses are banished, and of 
which the snakes,- frogs, and turtles are dispossessed, adds 
a new evidence of its fulfillment, and promotes the agent 
in it to the honor of being an implement of Providence in 
completing the task of creation. 

And the dignity of agriculture is seen from this point of 
view, in the difficulty, also, that attends it. It is easy for 
a savage tribe sparsely scattered over a vast country, to 
scratch out some grain and common vegetables for a rude 
subsistence. But for an increasing civilized empire to de 
velop the capacities of the land, so that it shall not be ex 
hausted, but furnish ample food to enlarging generations, 
is a very difficult thing. 

Nations always begin on the poorest soils of their domain. 
Many of them have never been able to manage the richor 
ones, which require clearing and drainage and have died 


because of that impotence. Some have brought these more 
fertile tracts under dominion for awhile, but have not been 
able to keep control of them, and have faded away to leave 
them to the reptile and miasma. The traveler by the seats 
of ancient empire, in parts of the valley of the Nile, on the 
rich lands of the Tigris, and the Euphrates, in Asia Minor, 
and in Syria, recalls the words of the Proverbs, " I went by 
the field of the slothful, and lo, it was all grown over with 
thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the 
stone wall thereof was broken down. Then I saw and 
considered it well ; I looked upon it and received instruc 

Agriculture can be successful only where the people are 
moral ; where they try diligently to learn the conditions of 
success in treating the land, and will receive it as a trust ; 
and where, too, the State is so well and justly organized 
that near markets are afforded, so that the soil can receive 
back the aliments derived from it and essential to its fer 
tility. As yet in history, the kingdoms have been very 
few that could take care of and develop their richest soils. 
They have known enough to be warriors and conquerors, 
to create literature, to gem magnificent temples and muse 
ums with trophies of art but they have not known enough 
to be successful farmers, to insure the fir-tree for the thorn, 
and the myrtle-tree for the briar to bring out and keep 
out the beauty on the land which Providence designed, 
and to base a permanent civilization on fields thoroughly 
plowed and refreshed, and on meadows and morasses 
dried, diked and guarded by watchful energy and thrift. 

The eminence and dignity of the farmer s mission is seen 
not only when on this large scale we look at its relations to 
the creative Providence, and its difficulties, but also when 
on a large scale we look at the facts associated with it. 

Virgil, the most graceful and elaborate of the old Latin 
poets, was requested so we read after the Roman civil 
wars had devastated Italy, to rekindle a devotion to agri 
culture by a poem on its offices and pleasures. He wrote 
the "Georgics," which all competent critics account supe 
rior in poetic merit to the ^Eneid and its story of battle and 


heroism. This is a significant intimation of the poetic re 
sources in the large contemplation of agriculture. Insight 
into the processes of nature reveals the very richest beauty, 
invested, too, with wonder. 

Suppose that early in this year the whole world had bent 
itself in supplication to the Invisible Ruler every man and 
woman from the arctic circle to the hot equator kneeling 
in the humility of conscious dependence, and lifting up 
from every zone the prayer "Forsake us not, this year, 
Great Benefactor, but bless us in our helplessness, from the 
treasury of thy goodness." And suppose that after such a 
verbal petition the supply had come that in every house 
had been found the water, and the stores, the bounties of 
vegetable and animal food, how surprising would the 
miraculous mercy have seemed ? 

But how much more surprising and inspiring is the real 
wonder, than such a shower upon a barren globe could be ! 
With few prayers for it the great miracle has been wrought, 
and in the double way of beauty and bounty. For what is 
the display of the seasons ? Is not the quickening of nature 
in the early months of the year as though God smiles upon 
the earth at the equator, and then the spreading wave of 
that benignity sweeps northward, rolling back the winter 
line, loosing the fetters of the frost, melting snows into 
fertilizing juices, pressing the cold clouds farther and 
farther back, and from the tropics to the edges of the Polar 
Sea, gladdening the soil till it utters in spreading verdure 
the visible green lyric of its joy ? And the summer ! Is it 
not the warm effluence of his breath that flows northward, 
and reveals the infinite goodness as it floats through the 
southern groves, and fills the fruits with sweetness, thickens 
the sap of the sugar fields, nourishes the rice plains, feeds 
the energies of the temperate clime, blesses the hardy 
orchards and the struggling wheat and corn, and dies amid 
the everlasting ice, after completing the circuit of its mis 
sions in clothing the northern woods with life ? And then 
the many-hued pomp of harvest comes, when the more 
ruddy light and the gorgeous coloring repeat the joy of the 
Creator in the vast witnesses of His beneficence, and the 


tired fields yield to the laborers their ample bounty, and 
seem to whisper, Take, O children of men, and be grate 
ful, until the course of the stupendous miracle is renewed !" 

If we could see the wheat woven by fairy spinners, and 
the apples rounded, and painted, and packed with juice by 
elfin fingers or if the sky were a vast granary or provision 
store, from which our needs were supplied in response to 
verbal prayers who could help cherishing a constant 
undertone of wonder at the miraculous forces that encircle 
us 1 But consider how much more amazing is the fact ! 
Consider how out of the same moisture the various flavors 
are compounded. The dew that drops in the tropics is 
transmitted into the orange liquor, and banana pulp, and 
sweet substance of the fig ; the pomegranate stores itself 
with fragrance and savor from it ; the various colors and 
qualities of the grape are drawn from it ; and in the tem 
perate orchards the rain is distilled in the dark arteries of 
trees into the peach and the pear, the apple and the plum. 
When a traveling trickster pours several different liquors 
from one bottle into cups among the spectators, it is called 
magical. But nature, not by deception, but actually, does 
pour for us one tasteless liquid into all the varieties of taste 
which the vegetable world supplies. If by a miracle kin 
dred with that of Christ at Cana, a jar of water could be 
to-night converted within your houses into wholesome 
wine, would it be so admirable as the ways in which the 
vines make wine upon the hill-side out of the vapor and 
sunlight, at the bidding of God ? 

No wonder the ancient Roman poet wrote his most fin 
ished and inspiring verses in celebration of agriculture ! 
The whole subject is fascinating and gorgeous poetry. And 
the marvel is that in modern times, when science has been 
unveiling the stores of enchantment and delight in the pro 
cesses of vegetation, poetry has lagged so far behind, and 
has been unequal to the invitations of reality. 

One of the most exquisite passages I am acquainted with 
in American literature is Longfellow s version in "The 
Song of Hiawatha," of the Indian legend of the gift of corn 
to the world. The red men believed that it was a mirac- 


ulous "benefaction from heaven. Three times there came 
from the skies to Hiawatha, the Indian saint and hero, a 
youth from the upper air, 

" Dressed in garments green and yellow, 
Sinking through the purple twilight, 
Through the splendor of the sunset ; 
Plumes of green bent o er his forehead, 
And his hair was soft and golden." 

This miraculous visitor, calling himself Mondamin, in 
vited Hiawatha to wrestle with him, and charged him, if 
victorious, to strip the gay garments from his body, and 
bury him where the rain and sun might fall upon his grave. 
Three times they wrestled : 

" When the sun through heaven descending, 
Like a red and burning cinder 
From the hearth of the Great Spirit, 
Fell into the western waters, 
Came Mondamin for the trial, 
For the strife with Hiawatha ; 
Came as silent as the dew comes, 
From the empty air appearing, 
Into empty air returning, 
Taking shape when earth it touches, 
But invisible to all men 
In its coming and its going." 

The third time Hiawatha was victorious. He stripped 
the gay garments from his celestial adversary, buried him 
as he was directed to do, and watched patiently by his 

" Till at length a small green feather 

From the earth shot slowly upward, 

Then another and another, 

And before the Summer ended 

Stood the maize in all its beauty, 

With its shining robes about it, 

And its long, soft, yellow tresses ; 

And in rapture Hiawatha 


Cried aloud, It is Moridamin ! 
Yes, the friend of man, Mondamin ! 

And still later when the Autumn 
Changed the long green leaf to yellow, 
And the soft and juicy kernels 
Grew like wampum, hard and yellow, 
Then the ripened ears he gathered, 
Stripped the withered husks from off them, 
As he once had stripped the wrestler, 
And made known unto the people, 
This new gift of the Great Spirit." 

We are indebted for the charming conception thus charm 
ingly wrought into measure to untutored Indians. I do not 
know in the poets of this country any fancy or creation 
equal to it, to embody the magic of modern chemistry 
involved in every harvest. The new Virgil will yet come 
who shall yet instruct and delight the race with the poetry 
of agriculture, and make the farmer s office look, as it 
ought to, in the light of science, sacred and real. 

Indeed, by simply massing the products of the country 
or of the State we make agriculture look wonderful to the 
dullest eye. If all that our republic has produced of 
grains, vegetables, and fruit, in the last six months, could 
be gathered into one mass, it would fill a structure as high 
and wide as an ordinary country barn in New England, 
which would stretch from the easternmost Atlantic coast 
beyond the Mississippi, beyond the Rocky Mountains, to 
the mouth of the Columbia or the Golden Gate. And God 
made us to take our supplies from such a bin, every 
autumn, as one people. 

If we could see such a collection of our national products, 
and behold the contributions of South, North, and West 
each completing the other s lack, we should discern in the 
harvest a mighty cable woven out of cotton, pumpkins, 
hay, sugar-cane, and corn, binding East and West and 
South as potently as the slope of the Alleghanies and the 
tributaries of the Mississippi. 

A single cotton-field may not seem to be a wonderful ob- 


ject to contemplate. But think of all the cotton-fields of 
the world and their products this year when passed through 
looms. Weave the cotton into one continuous web, and 
you could roll out a sheet more than a yard wide which 
would reach from here to the sun. A careful calculator 
has conjectured that, "in the rapidly increasing demand 
for material for woven fabrics and for machinery to manu 
facture it, but a few years would be required for our looms 
to fill an order for webs of double belting sufficiently long 
to connect the sun with each of the planets, in the way 
motion is communicated from the large drum of a factory to 
a number of smaller ones." (Possibly it is dangerous to 
state this lest some friend who now believes intensely that 
cotton is lord of all civilization on the globe, may be pos 
sessed with the conception that the solar system does move 
by cotton bands, and that the force of gravitation is only 
another form of long staple.} 

Think of the harvest, too, in the light of a calculation 
which has been made that if the whole human race were 
seated at once at a table spread with the bounties of the 
Creator, it would reach five times around the widest circum 
ference of the globe ! And yet twice a day, at least, the year 
through, such a table is spread 125,000 miles long and 
a thousand millions of human beings are fed on the in 
fluence of sunshine. 

Still we must come back to the position that agriculture 
is a very serious trust. There is little cause for gratulation 
and complacency, if in all this work we have not been 
studying the conditions of long continued fertility if we 
have been " skinning the land." The race which does this, 
and is content to do it, after the fact is clearly revealed and 
the consequences are foreshown, is simply barbarous. All 
its immense dividends are gained by paying out the capital. 
It is traveling the swifter to bankruptcy. It is mortgaging 
and spending the patrimony of its children. It is wasting 
wealth and energy at such a rate that it will not be able to 
renew the present lands when they shall be exhausted, and 
will not have the capital or the enterprise to begin to 


attack the richest soils which are the last to be approached. 
There is not probably in all the United States a tract of a 
hundred miles square which is cultivated in a way to get 
dividends and save capital both not certainly a tract of 
that size where the capital is increasing in power of product 
iveness. Wherever you find any such districts, you will 
find them in the least-favored places in States like 
Massachusetts and Rhode Island. There are very few 
districts yet where labor and industry are diversified 
enough within small compasses to furnish near markets, 
and so permit the land to be properly enriched, that its 
vigor may be sustained. Agriculture, as we have said be 
fore, is so important that its complete success is interwoven 
with a right distribution and order of occupations the 
symmetry of the State. We have not sufficiently diversified 
industry on our coast, as yet, to make farming profitable 
to the land and to the tillers of it besides. So much the 
more reason, therefore, for notes of alarm and calls to the 
greater prudence, and economy, and science in what we do 
till. The agricultural societies are of in estimable import 
ance in this regard. So our future and our civilization 
and they should be preaching in our ears the principles of 
the indispensable gospel of economy smaller farms, more 
labor on tliem, and reverence for manure. The man who, 
by putting the amount of labor on twenty acres which he 
spreads over fifty, could get the same product, is bound to 
retrench his limits and save the fertility of that extra thirty 
acres for a future emigrant. Not to do it is to live by ma 
rauding upon nature, not by cultivating the soil. 

Smaller farms and concentration of labor and thought 
upon these are the necessary conditions of success in another 
prominent line of the glory of agriculture, namely, bring 
ing up all the products of a farm to the level of their type. 
California has been widely celebrated, you know, at the 
East, in the size of its productions. You have heard, per 
haps, of the encounter between an Englishman and the 
market woman at a fruit-stand in New York. The English 
man had learned of the Yankee habit of bragging, and he 
thought he would cut the comb of this propensity. He 


saw some huge water-melons on the market-woman s stand, 
and walking up to her, pointing at them with a look of 
disappointment, said "What! don t you raise bigger 
apples than those in America ?" The woman looked at him 
one second, and then retorted " Apples ! Anybody might 
know you was an Englishman. Them ain t apples ! 
Them s huckleberries? 

The reputation of California has been connected with such 
a style of product, beets that would beat Daniel Lambert 
in girth ; sweet potatoes, one of which you must divide to 
make a bushel ; cabbages that seem to have the hydro- 
cephalus, literal swell heads ; squashes as large as the nu 
cleus of an average comet. 

We have overcome most of our ambition in such direc 
tions, and are able to see how much more important quality 
is. The Creator desires and intends that the human race 
shall have perfect peaches, berries, vegetables, and grapes. 
But He does not make them for us. He holds off the 
sketch or picture of them in a vision, and tempts us 
to work up to them and attain them by delicate and pa 
tient skill. California has produced plums in larger quan 
tities that are nearer perfection, I believe, than any other 
portion of the globe. In pears it is unrivaled. In the 
quantities of strawberries, peaches, and grapes, its fertility 
is amazing. But in the artistic excellence of these last, 
much remains to be accomplished. Who will give us a 
California peach that has the exquisite fragrance which we 
associate with that fruit when finished f A perfect peach 
should blend color, odor, and taste, in a harmonious, com 
pound lusciousness, just as a perfect song combines melody 
imagery, and sentiment. A true peach is so much sunshine 
and dew wrought into a poem. The average of California 
peaches may be better than the average of Eastern ones. 
But we have not rivaled the orchards on the other side in 
bringing out the few that seem to be reminiscences of the 
fruit that tempted Eve. 

Speaking of Eve at once suggests apples, and reminds us 
that, though there are a million of apple-trees in the State, 
either the trees or the soil need schooling in the art of pack- 


ing properly a handsome apple skin with the richest pulp. 
The apple that enables us to understand the temptation of 
our ancestress, has not yet been offered for sale in Cali 

Our crop of strawberries is wonderful, and in connection 
with the grapes marking the inauguration and the gorgeous 
finale of the Pacific fruit festival should be accounted 
prominent in the blessings of a residence on this coast. But 
to be very critical, one must say, between grapes and straw 
berries, something like what the boarder said to his land 
lady : "A little more strength in the tea, ma am, and not 
quite so much in the butter !" The strawberries, in spite 
$f our fervid sun, are not quite sweet enough. The grapes 
are a little too sweet, and that excess of sugar puts too 
large a percentage of alcohol in the light wines we make 
from them. Whoever effects that transfer of sugar will 
help the creation of a perfect strawberry, and thus gain 
credit as an artist, and serve the cause of temperance, and 
earn blessings as a reformer. Think of the millions of gal 
lons of wine which California will soon produce, and then 
compute the tens of thousands of gallons of alcohol which 
will be excluded from human stomachs and banished from 
existence by the horticultural skill that shall coax the vines 
to secrete a little more acid in their fruit ! 

The Creator calls on the farmer to work with him in com 
pleting the best fruits and the noblest animals, according to 
their types, and so make the world nobler by increasing 
their number on the earth. The true farmer is an artist. 
He brings out into fact an idea of God. I walk among the 
cattle-pens of a great fair with reverence and joy. Here at 
last we see the creatures which God intended to eat the 
grass and snuff the morning ! 

What honor the highest human intelligence pays to a 
painter like Landseer, who puts a superb mimic sheep on 
canvas ; or to Troyon, who makes a dreamy-eyed beneficent 
cow look at us from his colors ; or to Rosa Bonheur, who 
startles us with tableaux of horses clothed with thunder, 
and bulls whose look makes the room unsafe ! This is 
right. But what shall we say of the farmers who push out 


of existence the tribes and very types of imperfect or de 
generate cattle, and call up the actual horses that make the 
verses of Job sing in the brain, and sheep fit to be clad in 
the finest merino, and herds whose every attitude is a new 
masterpiece of lordliness or beauty ? 

In looking at such stock, I can easily understand the en 
thusiasm which leads people to invest thousands and tens 
of thousands in the experiments of model farms. And 
then I wonder why anybody is led away by a literary or 
artistic ambition, if he is not conscious of the first class of 
powers. Why will a man try to write imperfect rhymes, 
if he can make a perfect strawberry vine or moss-rose ? 
Why put a blundering idea into a book, if you can raise a 
litter of Suffolk pigs, and thus see a divine idea multiplied 
in symmetrical pork ? Why waste efforts with pigments on 
canvas when you can put an Alderney calf on a landscape, 
with eye more poetic than any fawn or gazelle ever gazed 
with or can ennoble an acre with an actual pair of young 
Devons surveying nature in their dumb dignity ? 

These gems of the annual shows make the farmer s office 
seem noble, a co-creator with ttie Infinite, make our aver 
age literature and art seem vapid, and in one light make 
society seem sad, for where are the men and women in so 
ciety as yet that are as noble in their spheres as these ani 
mals that are fit to own them, that come within a distant 
range of fulfilling their type in the Creator s mind, as the 
beasts do that are unstained with sin ? 

Rejoice, all of you that are called to the dignity, and 
trusts, and delights of the farmer or the horticulturist ! 
Rejoice that you belong to a class through whom God is 
finishing his creation, and who, in enlarging the Divine 
bounty, are adding to the beauty of the world ! Whether 
an acre, a garden spot, or a section is under your charge, 
feel more deeply your commission, be glad in the responsi 
ble honor of your lot. Study your calling more. Resolve 
to add to the fertility of your domain. Remember that 
weeds, and all tares, and slovenly labor are of the devil, 
and tend backward to chaos. Remember that economy is 


the fountain of all agricultural opulence. Subdue the lust 
for immense ranches. If you have fifty acres, and burn to 
have fifty more, annex fifty that lie beneath those you now 
own, and gain your title by a subsoil plow. Own deep 
thus by agriculture, not wide by scratchiculture. Increase 
the beauty of your homestead, by taste which costs noth 
ing ; by the training of noble trees and lovely flowers, 
whose shade and grace will be a dividend of which you 
can t be cheated, and a gracious spring of good influence 
in the memory of your children. 

California is sketched out by the Almighty as a vast can 
vas, such as no tribe of men ever received, for the genius 
and fidelity of colonists to fill with beauty. One of our 
own citizens has recently indulged an artist s dream of what 
the State may look like a hundred years hence. He sees in 
vision "long ribbons of fields stretching to Fort Tejon 
each field a different color green grapes, brown furrows, 
emerald vines, fringing hedges ; grains growing, cream- 
colored grains, grains aurate and russet; houses dotted 
along like violets in flower-beds ; houses dotted along like 
dewdrops in clover field ; houses reaching forth like mosses 
in the crystal brook ; houses clumped, houses grouped, 
hamlets modest, hamlets blooming and luxuriant like gor 
geous creepers ; villages with spires, towns with burnished 
domes goldened by the sun, and silvered by the moon ; 
cities with minarets, cities with columns, cities with tall 
needle chimneys pouring up to God the frankincense of la 
bor ; terraced foot-hills laughing with generous villas, slop 
ing forelands alive with herds ; swelling mounds nestling 
with vines, oval knolls crowned with festoons of fruit blos 
soms, breathing sweet perfume to the sky ; mountain gorges 
rolling out metals, mountain peaks staring at opposite 
peaks from bold-faced palaces, mountain rivulets murmur 
ing to trellised rose-hidden cottages, mountain vales creep 
ing away to love God in dreamy repose." 

This gorgeous rhetoric from the pen of your gifted towns 
man, Rev. Mr. Anderson, may be the cool prose of 1962. 
Every wise farmer and gardener will help to make it so. It 
should make hearts swell with sacred pride to know that 


this generation can contribute to such a future and insure 
to our posterity a land in which the snow of the Sierra and 
of Shasta shall emboss and crown such magnificence. And 
then not only may every California farmer sit under his own 
vine and fig-tree, but every Californian may drink tea 
plucked and cured under his own sky ; may grind coffee 
freely from an Arabia at his doors ; may sweeten it with 
sugar landed from no ship that has ever ventured beyond 
the Golden Gate ; may take rice with it raised in our tules ; 
may see the cotton for his household baled in his own 
county not by slave labor and sped for weaving to Cali 
fornia mills ; may buy his linen stamped with the marks 
also of domestic produce and skill ; may purchase silks on 
which no duty is paid to a custom-house ; and may smoke, 
in gratitude for his luxuries, tobacco raised in the Virginia 
within our own bounds. 

If we are faithful to our duties, in 1962 the millions that 
shall live here, can sing with new meaning the oldpassover 
song of Palestine : 

" Thou crownest the year with thy goodness ; 
Thy footsteps drop fruitfulness ; 
They drop it upon the pastures of the wilderness, 
And the hills are girded Avith gladness. 
The pastures are clothed with flocks, 
And the valleys are covered with corn : 
They shout yea, they sing for joy. 


3 o clock on the morning of the 10th of June, 
we were awakened and notified that the Azore 
Islands were in sight. I had only been in bed 
an hour and a half, and did not take any inter 
est in the islands. But another persecutor 
came, and then another, and another, and finally, believing 
that the general enthusiasm would permit no one to slum- 


ber in peace, I got up and went sleepily on deck. It was 
5-J o clock, and a raw, blustering morning. The passengers 
were huddled about the smoke-stacks and fortified behind 
ventilators, and all were wrapped in wintery costumes, and 
looking sleepy and unhappy in the pitiless gale and the 
drenching spray. The island in sight was Flores. It seemed 
only a mountain of mud standing up out of the dull mists 
of the sea. But as we bore down upon it, the sun came 
out and made it a beautiful picture. It was a mass of green 
farms and meadows that swelled up to a height of 1,500 
feet, and mingled its upper outlines with the clouds. It 
was ribbed with sharp, steep ridges, and cloven with nar 
row canons, and here and there on the heights, rocky 
upheavals shaped themselves into mimic battlements and 
castles, and out of rifted clouds came broad shafts of sun 
light, that painted summit, and slope, and glen, with bands 
of fire, and left belts of somber shade between them the 
aurora borealis of the frozen pole exiled to a summer land. 
We skirted around two-thirds of the island, four miles from 
shore, and all the opera-glasses in the ship were called into 
requisition to settle disputes as to whether mossy spots on 
the uplands were groves of trees or groves of weeds, or 
whether the white villages down by the sea were really 
villages or only the clustering tombstones of cemeteries. 
Finally, we stood to sea and bore away for San Miguel, and 
Flores shortly became a dome of mud again, and sank down 
among the masts and disappeared. But to many a sea- sick 
passenger it was good to see the green hills again, and all 
were more cheerful after the episode than anybody could 
have expected them to be, considering how sinfully early 
they had gotten up. 

But we had to change our notions about San Miguel, for 
a storm came up, toward noon, that so pitched and tossed 
the vessel that common sense dictated a run for shelter. 
Therefore we steered for the nearest island of the group 
Fayal (the people there pronounced it Fy-all, and put the 
accent on the first syllable). We anchored in the open 
roadstead of Horta, half a mile from the shore. The town 
has 8,000 to 10,000 inhabitants. Its snow-white houses nes- 


tie cosily in the sea of fresh green vegetation, and no village 
could look prettier or more attractive. It sits in the lap of 
an amphitheater of hills which are from 300 to 700 feet high, 
and carefully cultivated clear to their summits not a foot 
of soil left idle. Every farm, and every acre, is cut up into 
little square inclosures by stone walls, whose duty it is to 
protect the growing products from the destructive gales that 
blow there. These hundreds of green squares, marked by 
their black lava walls, make the hills look like vast checker 

The islands belong to Portugal, and every thing in Fayal 
has a Portugese characteristic about it. But more of that 
anon. A swarm of swarthy, noisy, lying, shoulder-shrug 
ging, gesticulating Portuguese boatmen, with brass rings in 
their ears, and fraud in their hearts, climbed the ship s sides, 
and various parties of us contracted with them to take us 
ashore at twenty-five cents a head silver coin of any coun 
try. We landed under the walls of a little fort armed with 
batteries of twelve and eighty-two pounders, which Horta 
considered a most formidable institution, but if we were 
ever to get after it with one of our turreted monitors, they 
would have to move it out in the country if they wanted it 
where they could go and find it again when they needed it. 
The group on the pier was a rusty one men and women, and 
boys and girls, all ragged, and bare-footed, and uncombed, 
and dirty, and by instinct, education, and profession, beggars. 
They trooped after us, and never more, while we tarried in 
Fayal, did we get rid of them. We walked up the middle 
of the principal street, and these vermin surrounded us on 
all sides, and glared upon us ; and every moment excited 
couples shot ahead of the gang to get a good look back, just 
as village boys do when they accompany the elephant on 
his advertising trip from street to street. It was very flat 
tering for me to be part of the material for such a sensation. 
Presently an old woman, with a fashionable Portuguese 
hood on, approached me. This hood is of thick, blue cloth, 
attached to a cloak of the same stuff, and is a marvel of 
ugliness. It stands up high, and spreads far abroad, and is 
unfathomably deep. It fits like a circus tent, and a 


woman s head is hidden away in it like the man s who 
prompts the singers from his tin shed in the stage of an 
opera. There is no particle of trimming about this mon 
strous capote, as they call it it is just a plain, ugly, dead- 
blue mass of sail, and a woman can t go within eight points 
of the wind with one of them on ; she has got to go before 
the wind or not all. The general style of the capote is the 
same in all the islands, and will remain so for the next 
10,000 years, but each island shapes its capotes just enough 
differently from the others to enable an observer to tell at a 
glance what particular island a lady hails from. Well, as 
we came along we overhauled a bent, wrinkled, and un 
speakably homely old hag, with her capote standing high 
aloft. She was becalmed ; or rather, she was laying-to, 
around a corner, waiting for the wind to change. When 
she saw me she drifted out and held out her hand. Such 
friendliness in a strange land touched me, and I seized it. 
I shook it cordially, and said : 

"Madame, I do not know your name, but this act has 
graven your your peculiar features upon my heart, and 
there they shall remain while that heart continues to 

She drew her hand away and said something which I could 
not understand, and then kissed her palm to me and court- 
sied. I blushed and said : 

" Madame, these attentions can not but be flattering to me, 
but it must not be alas, it can not be I am another s!" 
(I had to lie a little, because I was getting into a close 

She kissed her hand, again and murmured sweet words of 
affection, but I was firm. I said : 

" Away, woman tempt me not ! Your seductive bland 
ishments are wasted upon one whose heart is far hence in 
the bright land of America. The jewel is gone you be 
hold here naught save the empty casket and empty it 
shall remain till grim necessity drives me to fill the aching 
void with vile flesh, and drink, and cabbage. Avaunt, 
temptress !" 

But she would not avaunt. She kissed her hand repeatedly, 


and courtsied over and over again. I reasoned with myself. 
This unhappy woman loves me ; I can not reciprocate ; I can 
not love a foreigner ; I can not love a foreigner as homely as 
she is ; if I could, I would dig her out of that capote and take 
her to my sheltering arms. I can not love her, but this wildly 
beautiful affection she has conceived for me must not go un 
rewarded it shall not go unrewarded. And so I said, I 
will read to her my poetical paraphrase of the Declaration 
of Independence." 

But all the crowd said, "No ; shame, shame, shame the 
poor old woman hasn t done any thing !" 

And they gave the old hag some Portuguese pennies like 
shuffle-board blocks, and hustled her away, averring that 
she w^as begging, and not making love ; and thus, by the 
well-meaning stupidity of my comrades, I was prevented 
from implanting a sweet memory in the soul of one who 
may now go down to the grave with no sacred thing upon 
the altar of her heart but the ashes of a hopeless passion 
and yet a stanza or two would have made her so happy ! 

Speaking of those prodigious Portuguese pennies reminds 
me that it takes 1,000 reis (pronounced rays) to make $1, 
and that all financial estimates are made out in reis. We 
did not know this until after we had found it out, and we 
found it out through Blucher. Blucher said he was so 
happy and so grateful to be on solid land once more, and 
that he wanted to give a feast ; said he had heard it was a 
cheap land, and he was bound to have a grand banquet. He 
invited nine of us, and we ate an excellent dinner at the prin 
cipal hotel. In the midst of the jollity, produced by good 
cigars, good wine, and passable anecdotes, the landlord pre 
sented his bill. Blucher glanced at it, and his countenance 
fell. He took another look, to assure him that his senses had 
not deceived him, and then read the items aloud, in a falter 
ing voice, while the roses in his cheeks turned to ashes : 

Ten dinners, at 600 reis, 6,000 reis ? Ruin and deso 

44 Twenty-five cigars, at 100 reis, 2,500 reis ! Oh, my 
sainted mother ! 

" Eleven bottles of wine, at 1,200 reis, 13,200 reis. Be 


with us all ! Total, 21,700 reis ! Great Caesar s ghost, 
there ain t money enough in the ship to pay that bill! 
Go, leave me to my misery, boys, I m a ruined com 

I think it was the blankest-looking party I ever saw. 
Nobody could say a word. It was as if every soul had sud 
denly been stricken dumb. Wine-glasses descended slowly 
to the table, their contents untasted. Cigars dropped un 
noted from nerveless ringers. Each man sought his neigh 
bor s eye, but found in it no ray of hope, no encourage 
ment. At last the fearful silence was broken. The shadow 
of a desperate resolve settled down upon Blucher o counte 
nance like a cloud, and he rose up and said : Landlord, 
this is a wretched, mean swindle, and I ll never, never 
stand it. Here s $150, sir, and it s all you ll get I ll swim 
in blood, sir, before I ll pay a cent more !" 

Our spirits rose and the landlord s fell at least we 
thought so ; he was confused at any rate, notwithstanding 
he had not understood a word that had been said. He 
glanced from the little pile of gold pieces to Blucher several 
times, and then went out. He must have visited an Ameri 
can, for, when he returned, he brought back his bill trans 
lated into a language that a Christian could understand 
thus : 

10 dinners, 6,000 reis, or $6 00 

25 cigars, 2,500 reis, or 2 50 

11 bottles of wine, 13,200 reis, or 13 20 

Total, 21,700 reis, or $21 70 

Happiness reigned once more in Blucher s dinner-party. 
More refreshments were ordered. 

I think the Azores must be very little known in America. 
Out of our whole ship s company there was not a solitary 
individual who knew any thing whatever about them. 
Some of the party, well read concerning most other lands, 
had no other information about the Azores than that they 
were a group of nine or ten small islands far out in the 
Atlantic, something more than half way between New York 
and Gibraltar. That was all. These considerations move 


me to put in a paragraph of dry facts, just here, which I 
might not venture to if I were writing about worn-out and 
written-out Europe. 

The community is eminently Portuguese that is to say, 
it is slow, poor, shiftless, sleepy, and lazy. There is a civil 
government appointed by the King of Portugal, and a mili 
tary governor, who can assume supreme control and sus 
pend the civil government at his pleasure. The islands 
contain a population of about 200,000, almost entirely Por 
tuguese. Every thing is staid and settled, for the country 
was 100 years old when Columbus discovered America. 
The principal crop is corn, and they raise it and grind it 
just as their great-great-great-grandfathers did. They plow 
with a board slightly shod with iron ; their trifling little 
harrows are drawn by men and women ; small wind-mills 
grind the corn, ten bushels a day, and there is one assistant 
superintendent to feed the mill and a general superintend 
ent to stand by and keep him from going to sleep. When 
the wind changes they hi,tch on some donkeys, and actually 
turn around the whole upper half of the mill till the sails 
are in proper position, instead of fixing the concern so 
that the sails could be moved instead of the mill. Oxen 
tread the wheat from the ear, after the fashion prevalent in 
the time of Methuselah. There is not a wheelbarrow in 
the land they carry every thing on their heads, or on 
donkeys, or in a wicker-bodied cart, whose wheels are 
solid blocks of wood, and whose axles turn with the wheels. 
There is not a modern plow in the islands, or a thrashing 
machine. All attempts to introduce them have failed. The 
good Catholic Portuguese crossed himself, and prayed God 
to shield him from all blasphemous desire to know more 
than his father did before him. The climate is mild ; they 
never have snow or ice, and I saw no chimneys in the town. 
The donkeys and the men, women 1 , and children of a family, 
all eat and sleep in the same room, and are unclean, are 
ravaged by vermin, and are truly happy. The people lie 
and cheat the stranger, and are desperately ignorant, and 
have hardly any reverence for their dead. That latter trait 
shows how little better they are than the donkeys they eat 


and sleep with. The only well-dressed Portuguese in the 
camp are the three or four well-to-do families, the Jesuit 
priests, and the soldiers of the little garrison. The wages of 
a laborer are 20 to 24 cents a day, and those of a good 
mechanic about twice as much. They count it in reis at a 
thousand to a dollar, and this makes them rich and con 
tented. Fine grapes used to grow on the islands and an ex 
cellent wine was made and exported. But a disease killed 
all the vines fifteen years ago, and since that time no wine 
has been made. The islands being wholly of volcanic origin, 
the soil is necessarily very rich. Nearly every foot of 
ground is under cultivation, and two or three crops a year 
of each article are produced ; but nothing is exported save 
a few oranges chiefly to England. 

The mountains on some of the islands are very high. 
We sailed along the shore of the Island of Pico, under a 
stately green pyramid that rose up with one unbroken 
sweep from our very feet to an altitude of 7, 613 feet, and 
thrust its summit above the white clouds like an island 
adrift in a fog. Cor. N. Y. Tribune, June, 1867. 


soon as the young California!! finds a partner, 
the marriage follows immediately afterward ; 
and the girls go sometimes so far as to demand 
impetuously a husband from the missionary, 
even before they are twelve years old, which is 
their legitimate age for marrying. In all the Missions, how 
ever, only one excepted, the number of men was considera 
bly greater than that of the females. 

Matrimonial engagements are concluded without much 
forethought or scruple, and little attention is paid to the 
morals or qualities of the parties ; and, to confess the truth, 
there is hardly any difference among them in these respects ; 


and, as far as good sense, virtue, and riches are concerned, 
they are always sure to marry their equals, following thus 
the old maxim : Si vis nubere, nube part. It happens very 
often that near relations want to join in wedlock, and their 
engagements have, therefore, to be frustrated, such cases 
excepted in which the impedimerduin affinitatls can be 
removed by a dispensation from the proDer authorities. 

They do not seem to marry exactly for the same reasons 
that induce civilized people to enter into that state ; they 
simply want to have a partner, and the husband, besides, 
a servant whom he can command, although his authority 
in this respect is rather limited, for the women are some 
what independent, and not much inclined to obey their 
lords. Although they are now duly married according to 
the rites of the Catholic Church, nothing is done on their 
part to solemnize the act ; none of the parents or other rela 
tions and friends are present, and no wedding feast is served 
up, unless the missionary, instead of receiving his marriage 
fees, or jura stolce, presents them with a piece of meat, or a 
quantity of Indian corn. Whenever I joined a couple in 
matrimony, it took considerable time before the bridegroom 
succeeded in putting the wedding ring on the right finger 
of his future wife. As soon as the ceremony is over, the 
new couple start off in different directions in search of food ? 
just as if they were not more to each other to-day than they 
were yesterday ; and in the same manner they act in 
future, providing separately for their support, sometimes 
without living together for weeks, and without knowing 
any thing of their partner s abiding-place. 

Before they were baptized each man took as many wives 
as he liked, and if there were several sisters in a family he 
married them altogether. The son-in-law was not allowed, 
for some time, to look into the face of his mother-in-law or 
his wife s next female relations, but had to step aside, or to 
hide himself, when these women were present. Yet they 
did not pay much attention to consanguinity, and only a 
few years since one of them counted his own daughter (as 
he believed) among the number of his wives. They met 
without any formalities, and their vocabulary did not even 


contain the words "to marry," which is expressed at the 
present day in the Waicuri language by the paraphrase 
tikere undiri that is, "to bring the arms or hands to 
gether." They had, and still use, a substitute for the word 
"husband," but the etymological meaning of that expres 
sion implies an intercourse with woman in general. 

They lived, in fact, before the establishment of the Mission 
in their country, in utter licentiousness, and adultery was 
committed by every one without shame and without any 
fear, the feeling of jealousy being unknown to them. 
Neighboring tribes visited each other very often only for 
the purpose of spending some days in open debauchery, 
and during such times a general prostitution prevailed. 
Would to God that the admonitions and instructions of those 
who converted these people to Christianity and established 
lawful marriages among them, had also induced them to 
desist entirely from these evil practices ! Yet they deserve 
pity rather than contempt, for their manner of living to 
gether engenders vice, and their sense of morality is not 
strong enough to prevent them from yielding to the tempta 
tions to which they are constantly exposed. 

In the first chapter of this book I have already spoken of 
the scanty population of this country. It is certain that 
many of their women are barren, and that a great number 
of them bear no more than one child. Only a few, out of 
one or two hundred, bring forth eight or ten times, and if 
such is really the case, it happens very seldom that one or 
two of the children arrive at a mature age. I baptized, in 
succession, seven children of a young woman, yet I had to 
bury them all before one of them had reached its third 
year, and when I was about to leave the country I recom 
mended to the woman to dig a grave for the eighth child, 
with which she was pregnant at the time. The unmarried 
of both sexes and the children generally make a smaller 
group than the married and widowed. 

The California women lie in without difficulty, and with 
out needing any assistance. If the child is born at some 
distance from the Mission they carry it thither themselves 
on the same day, in order to have it baptized, not minding 


a walk of two or more leagues. Yet, that many infants die 
among them is not surprising ; on the contrary it would be 
a wonder if a great number remained alive. For, when the 
poor child first sees the light of day, there is no other cradle 
provided for it but the hard soil, or the still harder shell of 
a turtle, in which the mother places it, without much cover 
ing, and drags it about wherever she goes. And in order 
to be unencumbered, and enabled to use her limbs with 
greater freedom while running in the fields, she will leave 
it sometimes in charge of some old woman, and thus deprive 
the poor creature for ten or more hours of its natural nour 
ishment. As soon as the child is a few months old the 
mother places it, perfectly naked, astraddle on her shoul 
ders, its legs hanging down on both sides in front, and it 
has consequently to learn how to ride before it can stand on 
its feet. In this guise the mother roves about all day, 
exposing her helpless charge to the hot rays of the sun and 
the chilly winds that sweep over the inhospitable country. 
The food of the child, till it cuts its teeth, consists only in 
the milk of the mother, and if that is wanting or insufficient, 
there is rarely another woman to be found that would be 
willing, or, perhaps, in the proper condition, to take pity on 
the poor starving being. I can not say that the Californian 
women are too fond of their children, and some of them 
may even consider the loss of one as a relief from burden, 
especially if they have already some small children. I did 
not see many Californian mothers who caressed their chil 
dren much while they lived, or tore their hair when they 
died, although a kind of dry weeping is not wanting on 
such occasions. The father is still more insensible, and 
does not even look at his (or at least his wife s) child as 
long as it is small and helpless. 

Nothing causes the Californians less trouble and care 
than the education of their children, which is merely con 
fined to a short period, and ceases as soon as the latter are 
capable of making a living for themselves that is, to catch 
mice and to kill snakes. If the young Californians have once 
acquired sufficient skill and strength to follow these pur 
suits, it is all the same to them whether they have parents 


or not. Nothing is done "by these in the way of admonition 
or instruction, nor do they set an example worthy to be 
imitated "by their offspring. The children do what they 
please, without fearing reprimand or punishment, however 
disorderly and wicked their conduct may be. It would be 
well if the parents did not grow angry when their children 
are now and then slightly chastised for gross misdemeanor 
by order of the missionary ; but, instead of bearing with 
patience such wholesome correction of their little sons and 
daughters, they take great offense and become enraged, 
especially the mothers, who will scream like furies, tear out 
their hair, beat their naked breasts with a stone, and lacer 
ate their heads with a piece of wood or bone till the blood 
flows, as I have frequently witnessed on such occasions. 

The consequence is, that the children follow their own 
inclinations without any restraint, and imitate all the bad 
habits and practices of their equals, or still older persons, 
without the slightest apprehension of being blamed by their 
fathers and mothers, even if these should happen to detect 
them in the act of committing the most disgraceful deeds. 
The young Californians who live in the Missions commence 
roaming about as soon as mass is over, and those that spend 
their time in the fields go wherever, and with whomsoever, 
they please, not seeing for many days the faces of their 
parents, who, in their turn, do not manifest the slightest 
concern about their children, nor make any inquiries after 
them. These are disadvantages which the missionary has 
no power of amending, and such being the case, it is easy 
to imagine how little he can do by instruction, exhortation, 
and punishment, toward improving the moral condition of 
these young natives. 

Heaven may enlighten the Californians, and preserve 
Europe, and especially Germany, from such a system of 
education, which coincides, in part, with the plan proposed 
by that ungodly visionary, J. J. Rousseau, in his "Emile," 
and which is also recommended by some other modern 
philosophers of the same tribe. If their designs are carried 
out, education, so far as faith, religion, and the fear of God 
are concerned, is not to be commenced before the eighteenth 


or twentieth year, which, if view r ed in the proper light, 
simply means to adopt the Californian method, and to bring 
up youth without any education at all. 



E presume it is not generally known to our 
citizens on the Pacific coast, nor to many 
people in the Atlantic States, how near we 
came to losing, through executive incompe 
tence, our just title to the whole immense 
region lying west of the Rocky Mountains. 
Neither has due honor been accorded to the brave and 
patriotic man through whose herculean exertions this great 
loss and sacrifice w T as prevented. 

The facts were briefly and freshly brought out during the 
recent meeting at Pittsburg of the "American Board of 
Commissioners for Foreign Missions," in the course of an 
elaborate paper, read by Mr. Treat, one of the secretaries 
of the Board, on the " Incidental Results of Missions." 

In the year 1836, the American Board undertook to estab 
lish a mission among the Indians beyond the Rocky Moun 
tains. Two missionaries, Rev. Mr. Spalding arid Dr. 
Whitman, with their wives the first white women who 
had ever made that perilous journey passed over the 
mountains with incredible toil, to reach Oregon, the field 
of their labor. After remaining there for a few years, Dr. 
Whitman began to understand the object of the misrepre 
sentations of the Hudson s Bay Company. He saw, contrary 
to the reiterated public statements of that company : 

1. That the land was rich in minerals. 

2. That emigrants could cross the Rocky Mountains in 
wagons, a feat which they had constantly asserted to be 

3. That the Hudson s Bay Company was planning to 
secure the sole occupancy of the whole of that country, by 


obtaining a surrender of the American title into the hands 
of the British Government. 

Seeing these things, but not knowing how very near the 
British scheme was to its accomplishment, Dr. Whitman 
resolved, at every hazard, to prevent its consummation. 
He undertook, in 1842, to make a journey on horseback to 
Washington, to lay the whole matter clearly before our 
Government by personal representations. Being a man of 
great physical strength and an iron constitution, he accom 
plished the long and perilous journey, and reached Wash 
ington in safety. The remainder of the story we will relate 
in the language of the Boston Congregationalist: " Reach 
ing Washington, he sought an interview with President 
Tyler and Daniel Webster, then Secretary of State, and 
unfolded to them distinctly what was going on. Here he 
learned that a treaty was almost ready to be signed, in 
which all this Northwestern Territory was to be given up to 
England, and we were to have, in compensation, greater 
facilities in catching fish. Dr. Whitman labored to con 
vince Mr. Webster that he was the victim of false represent 
ations with regard to the character of the region, and told 
him that he intended to return to Oregon with a train of 
emigrants. Mr. Webster, looking him full in the eye, 
asked him if he would pledge himself to conduct a train 
of emigrants there in wagons. He promised that lie would. 
Then, said Mr. Webster, this treaty shall be suppressed. 
Dr. Whitman, in coming on, had fixed upon certain rally 
ing points where emigrants might assemble to accompany 
him on his return. He found nearly one thousand ready 
for the journey. After long travel, they reached Fort Hall, 
a British military station, and the commandant undertook 
to frighten the emigrants by telling them that it was not 
possible for them to go through with wagons ; but Dr. 
Whitman reassured them, and led them through to the 
Columbia, and the days of the supremacy of the Hudson s 
Bay Company over Oregon were numbered." New York 
Evening Post, November, 166. 



LL we require from the readers of the MIRROR, 
in making use of the following recipes, is a 
sample from each lot. We shall not "be respons 
ible for the material wasted in fruitless experi 
ments : 

To maJce Miltonic Poetry. Take five hundred angels, 
one thousand devils of the worst hue, one Lucifer, ten 
worlds, two suns, ten moons, and stars to equal, twenty 
tons of saltpeter, brimstone, and tar, with a good degree of 
chloroform, put it all in a great caldron, over a fire of 
white heat, and when sufficiently conglomerated put a live 
man and woman in it, and stir. You will then produce the 
best " imitation of the great immortal" ever read. Try it, 
and do not be discouraged if you do not succeed at first. 

To be a Great Dramatist. Take all the pride, selfish 
ness, and hate, villainy, cowardice, and passion, that can be 
had in poor human nature. Then take thirty beautiful 
maidens, fifty libertines, from the Church and State, ten 
dukes, seven cross old queens, mix thoroughly then get 
three ghosts, ten goblins, twenty old hags, and thirty 
witches, tie them together with snakes and boa-constrictors ; 
let them seethe and boil till wanted then serve to suit, 
a la mode Macbeth, Hamlet, Lear, &c. 

To be a Goldsmith. Sell all your cotton shirts, run in 
debt to twenty tailors, owe your landlady, then crawl 
between two feather beds, and while you are waiting for 
your washerwoman to dry your only suit, fancy yourself a 
poet, and you will doubtless write a description of a 
" Village Pastor" that will astonisli you. 

To imitate Gray. This is very simple, and we advise all 
to try it, especially young ladies given to "flights of fancy." 
Go into an old dilapidated church, lean upon the broken 
windows and think of your dead grandfather, and grand 
mother, and all their ancestors. Very soon you will produce 
by far a better elegy than the original. 


To be a Burns. Strip off your gold chains and rings, 
shave off your dainty mustache, put on a pair of leather 
"brogans with clean stockings, a pair of corduroy "breeches, 
and a strong wholesome shirt, and on the whole make "a 
man of yourself;" then sit in your cottage door, put your 
head in your wife s lap (if you have one, if not your mother 
or sister will do), and let all the tender and holy associa 
tions and impulses of your nature inspire you, and if you 
do not become a poet you ought to. 

To write Byronic Stanzas. Get a barrel of tar, a hogs 
head of brandy, a hundred gallons of ottar of roses, one 
man " nobly born," and five hundred " beautiful women," 
let them simmer together with a gentle mixture of sulphuric 
ether. We advise all honest young men to put away so 
unbecoming a thing as "manliness," and adopt the above 

A la Tom Moore. Get five hundred swarms of the best 
bees, take all the honey they can make in a thousand years. 
Buy all the perfumes in Turkey ; get ten thousand pounds 
of rose leaves, add the juice of all the oranges, pomegranates, 
and bananas that can be had, now and then some of the 
"pure juice of the grape," just to flavor, and if this does 
not suit the taste of " Poor Tom" himself, try one hundred 
of the best "Madeira," and all the Peris in Christendom, 
and out of it, will obey your call 

Much other valuable instruction might be given, but time 
will not permit, and therefore, I will close this "valuable 
collection" with the addition of a single one I had well- 
nigh forgotten but it is hardly worth the trouble, as very 
few will wish to secure it, and that is 

To be a True Genius Do not maJte afoot of yourself ! 
San Francisco Mirror, September 12, 1860. 



Los ANGELES, July 2, 1866. 

IHADDEUS STEVENS, House of Representa 
tives, Washington, D. C. Dear Sir : A copy 
of the Daily Congressional Globe of May 22d, 
has been forwarded me, containing the debate on 
the imposition of internal tax on native wines. 
On the part of the vine-growers of California espe 
cially, I tender you their lasting gratitude for the prompt, 
liberal, and wise manner in which you defended the native 
wine interest of our country. Your words : " Allow these 
producers to go on for the present, at least, without any 
tax, until they get a foothold," and "I hope, therefore, for 
the present, we will not put our heavy hand on this infant, 
lest it should become deformed," are words worthy of a 
statesman, and will remain long in the grateful remembrance 
of till vine-producers. It was in this wise that the great 
Chaptal spoke to the French Government in defense of the 
wine interests of France ; and what would France be to-day 
were it not for the national importance that the annual 
production of a thousand millions of gallons of wine give 
her, increasing day by day her wealth, her commerce, and 
the health and morality of her people ? 

The greater part of our vast country but more especially 
the Pacific slope abounds with soil and climate congenial 
to the culture of the grape, which is its natural home, 
foreign as well as native. And, therefore, all classes of 
wines can be made there, more particularly the potent 
wines, like Port, Sherry, and Madeira, in greater abundance 
and of as good quality as in any country. The wine busi 
ness emphatically belongs to large capital; it requires 
cumulative investments from planting the vineyard, build 
ing cellars, procuring vessels, the necessary appliances for 
manufacture, to holding the wine for proper maturity and 
development of its bouquet. Adam Smith says that vine 
culture is the most profitable of all agriculture, yet large 
capital is ever loath to invest in any enterprise where it 


can not see an immediate return of profits. More so in 
California than anywhere else, on account of a high rate 
of interest and labor. The development of this great na 
tional "branch of industry devolves at last on farmers with 
ordinary means, who not only need but merit in a high 
degree the fostering encouragement of a wise Government. 
These farmers are struggling for a " foothold" for a wine 
interest that is bound to become greater than that of France. 
Why, then, should the Government crush and "deform" 
this infant, that in time must grow into a giant of agricul 
ture and commerce, and a promoter of national wealth and 
morality \ 

The hygienic influences of wine-drinking on public 
health, and its moral tendencies, should be well considered 
and understood by our legislators. Alcohol is chemically 
a solvent, a waster of the animal tissues, and in the stomach 
undergoes no change by digestion, as food substances do, 
but is carried through the circulation in its normal condi 
tion, disintegrating, as it were, the human organization and 
producing general irritation. Yet alcohol has its beneficial 
influences and uses in the animal economy, when taken with 
due moderation and in a convenient and rational form. 

A certain amount of alcohol, or a certain amount of fatty 
substances, is absolutely necessary to the human body to 
maintain combustion in the lungs. In order to produce 
animal heat a greater degree of combustion is required in a 
cold than in a warm temperature ; hence the inhabitants of 
high latitudes are obliged to consume vast quantities of 
fatty and oily substances, like blubber, in the absence of 
alcohol, to sustain respiration and life, whilst those who 
inhabit mild climates use proportionably less of these sub 
stances, because the radiation of the heat of the body is less. 

Human food can be divided into two classes : First 
Such as serve to supply the organs of respiration with fuel 
and that form fat in the body ; for example, all kinds of 
sugar, starch, gum, beer, wine, bread, potatoes, rice, sago, 
arrowroot, and some vegetables and fruit, so far as the latter 
contain starch and gum. Second Such as serve to produce 
the plastic substances of the body, as blood, flesh, and 


muscles ; for example, meat, cheese, eggs, and the gluten 
of cereals, especially seeds like beans, peas, &c., also the 
leaves and stems of salad plants. Where all the people, as 
in France, and on the Rhine, drink wine as a common 
beverage, or as we drink tea and coffee, they consume but 
half the quantity of bread or half the substances of the first 
class, for which wine becomes a substitute. The illustrious 
Liebig speaks substantially as follows of the use of wine in 
his letters on chemistry: " Wine contains alkalies, organic 
acids, and other substances salutary in their effects on 
health, and in this respect differs widely from brandy, 
which consists of water and only one constituent of wine 
namely, alcohol. A given quantity of wine distilled into 
brandy will produce an amount of intoxication that double 
the quantity of the wine that produced it would not, because 
alcohol is concentrated in the brandy, and devoid of the 
healthy substances of the wine, which remain behind in the 
still. If the brandy and the other substances that remain 
in the still are mixed again, the product won t make wine, 
because the affinity of these substances has been broken up 
by the operation of distillation, and can not be restored by 
any human ingenuity ; and, besides, that much of the vola 
tile oils and acids are lost. The commercial value of wine 
is in proportion to its wholesome effects on the human sys 
tem by increasing the action of secretion in the lungs and" 
kidneys ; nor is the value of good wines estimated by the 
amount of alcohol they contain, but upon the non-volatile 
constituents. Bouquet has only an influence on its price 
but as it indicates the presence of these other constituents 
which produce wholesome effects. 

As a means of restoring cheerfulness when the body and 
mind have been exhausted or worn out by age or over- 
exertion, as a means of correction and equalization where 
disproportionate food has caused irregularities in the human 
organism, or as a protection against casual derangements 
produced by inorganic substances, wine is not surpassed 
by any production of nature or art. Rheumatism and 
stone complaints are nowhere less frequent than among the 
wine-drinking population of the Rhine, and in no district 


of Germany are the drug stores so valueless as in the rich 
cities of the Rhine, for wine is considered there the univer 
sal panacea for the healthy and the sick, as well as the 
milk of old age. As a means of respiration wine performs 
important functions. By its use starch and sugar contain 
ing substances, especially fat, become superfluous. Provi 
dence, then, has given us the most extended wine country 
in the world, as if to complete our means of industry, 
wealth, and human happiness ; and who so insensate as to 
place obstacles in its development? Wine drinking can 
only promote rational temperance. 

Our country, which produces so much raw material for 
manufactures, and at the same time produces food in greater 
abundance than anywhere else in the world to subsist our 
operatives, must become the grand center of manufactures ; 
it is a law of compensation that, where food and material 
are found together, manufactures must prosper, for it is 
easier to import an operative than to transport to him food 
to subsist on, and crude material to work on all his lifetime. 
Unwonted obstacles may retard the operations of this law, 
but it will prevail at last. This being the manifest destiny 
of our country, we must not shut our eyes to the fact that 
the finger of Providence points out almost everywhere that 
we have a wine country, so essentially necessary to the 
health, longevity, and happiness of an immense population. 
The men who get out coal will get out more of it, and the 
man who makes the iron will make more of it, and of better 
quality, and will live much longer and happier doing it, 
when they drink wine instead of whisky. Humanity cries 
out for the discardment from the machine-shop and the fur 
nace that friction that the use of ardent spirits produces, 
and the substitution therefor of pure native wines. Reverse 
things, and make wine the luxury of the working classes 
instead of the rich, and our great country will become still 
more powerful and more healthy in mind and body. At 
the present time, when the ancient disease of trichinis is 
threatening public safety, the fear is not altogether un 
founded that we might be obliged to abstain from the use 
of pork, as all ancient nations have done, doubtless through 


necessity. Then where would the poor man find a suitable 
substitute for the imperative demand of nature to replace 
the fat substances which supply his vitality, if not in native 
wines ? Most respectfully, your obedient servant 


24, 1867. 


This toast was proposed by E. R. Highton, Esq. The following 
is the concluding portion of his remarks upon the occasion : 

HEN Father Junipero Serra, standing on a 
western headland of this peninsula, on the 
seventeenth day of September, 1776, according 
to the forms of his Church, solemnly dedicated 
the virgin soil to Christian enterprise, what 
sanguine prophet would have been bold enough 
to predict the present condition of the solitary waste that 
surrounded him ? And how impossible it must have been 
to foresee the development of those civilizing influences 
which have so immeasurably surpassed any conceivable 
anticipation of that enthusiastic and devoted missionary ! 

Who would have supposed, twenty years ago, that here, 
amid those wind-blown hillocks, the struggling efforts of a 
few missionary fathers, in their endeavors to impart a rudi 
mentary civilization to a tribe of half-naked Indians, would 
be superseded by the numerous organizations for religious 
and social improvement which have sprung into existence, 
or that the primitive Church at the Mission Dolores, would 
be overshadowed by the massivQ Christian temples, the 
public schools, and various institutions of science, art, and 
benevolence, that now adorn our city ; or, who would have 
imagined that on the site of those barren sand hills an as 
sembly like this would be discussing measures for the alle 
viation of human misery ? 


At a still more recent period, amid the disorders of our 
early settlement, who among those of ns who are pioneers 
of our present California society, would have thought that 
in so short a time the erratic, impulsive, but lavish gener 
osity of our crude, individualized community would have 
been gathered up in the " San Francisco Benevolent Asso 
ciation," and the various other charitable societies of our 
city ? 

It is true that the developments of benevolent enterprise 
throughout the world which I have attempted to suggest 
for our contemplation, have been, and are, represented in 
this locality in miniature only ; but they are replete with 
indications of a rapid progress and an intense vitality. 
Out of the very complexity of our social condition will 
arise reciprocal toleration and esteem, and increasing co 
operative union for practical goodness, which must event 
ually issue in a w T ider philanthropy and a grander civil 
ization, refracting upon the opposite shores of Asia the con 
vergent rays of its moral and intellectual light exhibiting 
to its stagnant philosophers, by the effluence of Christian 
benevolence, a practical exemplification of the barren max 
ims of Confucius ; superseding the institutes of Menu by 
the Sermon on the Mount, and extinguishing the fires of 
Zoroaster in intenser rays from the Star of Bethlehem. 

Mr. Chairman : On this convivial occasion, it may seem 
somewhat discordant to refer to serious matters of personal 
responsibility ; but the co-operative sympathy which my 
theme, at least, implies, rests upon our individual appre 
hension of mutual obligation. By the attractive force of a 
sympathy deep-seated in our moral natures, and by an in 
evitable destiny, we are each of us linked to all that bears 
the stamp of humanity. "We can not live to ourselves 
alone." We are connected by this subtle, all-pervading 
influence with all heroic deeds of the past, and identified 
with all benevolent labors of the present, while its intui 
tions realize the bright hopes of the future. 

In all the transactions of life, we endeavor to leave the 
impression that / 7iave been. In the aspirations for post 
humous fame, in the dread of the stigma of posterity, and 


in the undefined longings for a more perfect spiritual com 
munion which we all experience, we read the impress of 
immortality, indicating the eternal progress of our spiritual 
"being, and urging us onward in the path of love and duty. 

" Tis not the whole of life to live, 
Nor all of death to die." 

We are told of a time when we shall be called to witness 
a more magnificent festival, under a more spacious dome, 
and surrounded by scenes of the most awful sublimity. 
On that occasion, eligibility to pass the vestibule, we are 
assured, will depend exclusively on moral qualities and 
actions. The invitations will not be, Come, for you are a 
true-born Briton, or a chivalrous Frenchman, or a philo 
sophic German, or a free and enlightened American, or be 
cause you were a member of this or that society or church, 
but it will be, Come ! " for I was a-hungered, and ye gave me 
meat ; I w^ as thirsty, and ye gave me drink ; I was a 
stranger, and ye took me in : naked, and ye clothed me ; I 
w r as sick, and ye visited me : I was in prison, and ye came 
unto me." And when these personal attentions are dis 
claimed, the Grand Master of those awful ceremonies will 
say : " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least 
of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." 

With an entire concurrence in the sentiment I have so 
discursively attempted to illustrate, and with my whole 
heart, Mr. Chairman, I beg to propose, " Our Sister Benev 
olent Societies." 


A FARMER sends an Atlantic exchange the following : "It 
is now over twenty years since I learned that sweet-oil 
would cure the bite of a rattlesnake, not knowing that 
it would cure any other poison. Practice, observation, and 
experience have taught me that it will cure poison of any 
kind, both man and beast. I think no farmer should be 
without a bottle of it in his house. The patient must take 
a spoonful internally, and bathe the wound for a cure. To 


cure a liorse it requires eight times as much as it does a man. 
Here let me say of one of the most extreme cases of snake 
bite in this neighborhood, eleven years ago this summer, 
where the case had been over thirty days standing, and the 
patient had been given up by his physicians. I heard of 
it, carried the oil, gave him one spoonful, which created a 
cure. It will cure bloat in cattle caused by eating too freely 
of fresh clover ; it will cure sting of bees, spiders, or other 
insects ; and it will also cure persons who have been poi 
soned by a low running vine growing in meadows, called 


ININGr for gold in auriferous quartz veins was 
prosecuted extensively in Egypt as early as 
2,500 years ago perhaps much earlier. Fifty 
years before the time of Christ there was a 
picture in one of the temples in Thebes of an 
Egyptian monarch making a present to the 
gods of all the gold and silver which he received in one 
year from his mines ; and the amount, as near as we can 
now arrive at it, was about $30,000,000. 

The historian Diodorus Siculus, who] mentions this pic 
ture, adds, as translated in "Jacobs on the Precious Met 
als": "On the confines of Egypt and the neighboring 
countries there are parts full of gold mines, from whence, 
with the cost and pains of many laborers, much gold is dug. 
The soil is naturally black, but in the body of the earth 
there are many veins, shining with white marble (quartz), 
and glittering with all sorts of bright metals, out of which 
those appointed to be overseers cause the gold to be dug by 
the labor of a vast multitude of people ; for the kings of 
Egypt condemn to these mines not only notorious criminals, 
captives taken in war, persons falsely accused, and those 
with whom the king is personally offended, but all their 
kindred and relations. These are sent to this work either 
as a punishment, or that the profit and gain of the king 


may be increased by their labors. There are thus infinite 
numbers thrust into these mines, all bound in fetters, kept 
at work night and day, and so strictly guarded that there 
is no possibility of their effecting an escape. They are 
guarded by mercenary soldiers of various barbarous nations, 
whose language is foreign to them and to each other, so that 
there are no means either of forming conspiracies or of cor 
rupting those who are set to watch them ; they are kept to 
incessant work by the rod of the overseer, who, besides, 
lashes them severely. Not the least care is taken of the 
bodies of these poor creatures ; they have not a rag to cover 
their nakedness ; and whoever sees them must compassion 
ate their melancholy and deplorable condition ; for, though 
they may be sick, or maimed, or lame, no rest nor inter 
mission of labor is allowed them. Neither the weaknesses 
of old age nor the infirmities of females excuse any from 
that work to which all are driven by blows and cudgels, till 
at length, borne down by the intolerable weight of their 
misery, many fall dead in the midst of their insufferable 
labors. Thus these miserable creatures, beingdestitute of all 
hope, expect their future days to be worse than the present, 
and long for death, as more desirable than life." Alia Cali- 
fornian, 1859. 


WITH feet half naked and bare, 

And dress all tattered and torn, 
With a penny here and a mockery there, 

And floods of derision and scorn, 
She wanders the street wherever her feet, 

Weary and willing, are borne, 
With an eye as bright and a cheek as fair 

As the earliest blush of the morn. 

Wandering up and down, 

And driven from door to door, 

A jest for every idle clown 

And a butt for every boor ; 


While the velvet-slippered, in satin and lace, 

Go rustling by her side, 
With a frozen heart and a curtained face 

And a lip curled into pride. 

So beautiful, yet so frail, 

So willing and yet so weak, 
Oh, what if the heart should fail, 

And a heavenly purpose break ! 
And the dens and kennels and brothels of hell 

Another poor victim hold, 
A celestial spark be quenched in the dark, 

And an angel bartered for gold ! 

No wonder the heart should fail, 

A heavenly purpose fade, 
The eye grow dim and the cheek grow pale 

When none stand ready to aid ! 
No wonder the lairs and cradles of hell 

So many poor victims should hold, 
When the good are content to worship their God 

And the rich to worship their gold. 

Move patiently on, O Earth ! 

Till Mercy s wandering dove 
Shall fly to the realm of its birth, 

And rest in the bosom of Love ; 
Move patiently on till the crucified Christ 

Shall gather his radiant crown, 
From the lowly flowers and bleeding hearts 

That the world has trampled down. 



TWELVE years ago, an unusual commotion was 
observed in the Atlantic States. In every 
State of the Union, from Maine to Louisiana, 
from the sea-coast to the western frontier, in 
every city, town, and village, a universal ex 
citement prevailed. Yet no devastating war 
had swept over the land, no epidemic had scattered the 



seeds of death in its mournful train ; there was no appre 
hension of foes from abroad, nor domestic dissensions 
which threatened the peace of the Union. 

Yet in the streets, and at the corners in every city, in 
the public places of every town in the whole United States, 
knots of men were congregated, earnestly engaged in dis 
cussing some momentous subject, and tones of wonder, 
perhaps incredulity, were heard, instead of warm debate ; 
the inevitable result of difference of opinion. Newspapers 
were read with avidity, post-offices and bulletin-boards 
were besieged eagerly for news in fact, the nation seemed to 


feel a thrill to its very center, as if some mighty change was 
on the eve of taking place. And, indeed, an event of vast 
moment was about to occur, which would be felt, not in 
our beloved country alone, but over the whole civilized 

A little later, and the mists which seemed gathering upon 
our horizon grew more portentous ; the breeze which had 
been gently blowing, was thickening to a gale, ere long to 
burst into a whirlwind that should be felt in every town 
and hamlet of our free land, and produce such a change as 
had never been felt in time of peace since our country took 
its place among the nations of the earth. A note of prepara 
tion was sounded. All classes seemed actuated by one 


common desire. Men s eyes were turned west, as if a new 
star had arisen, and all were eager to gaze on its splendor. 
In a few, very few months, an army of hardy men had con 
gregated upon the western frontier in time of peace, with 
out " the pomp and circumstance of war " without leaders, 
or organization as a body with no corps of reserve, no 
depots of supplies for their use on a march, for a march 
was most manifest and " Westward Ho !" and the Plains, 
was the cry, and California the destination. 

Depending on individual strength and such supplies as 
they could carry with them, these hardy pioneers were 
ready to dare the perils of the plains, to swim the rushing 
streams, to climb the highest mountains ay ! to scale the 
highest barrier of earth, to accomplish their purpose ; to 
suffer hunger, and thirst, and privation in every form, rather 
than not prove victorious in their undertaking. 

On the sea-board, too, all was life and activity. Mer 
chants were freighting ships, manufacturers were upon the 
alert, men were securing a passage to tempt the storms of 
ocean, reckless alike of the heat of the tropics, the cold of 
the stormy cape, of shipwreck, or danger. A mighty ex 
odus was at hand. To accomplish this, to raise the means 
of joining the swelling throng, lands and houses were often 
mortgaged for inconsiderable sums, and families by these 
means eventually irreparably ruined ; fathers bid farewell 
to wife, children, and home, perhaps never to return ; the 
most tender ties were severed, and tears and sighs were 
freely mingled with the bold tones of hope and resolution. 

What could have so moved our people ? What magic 
had exerted its power to produce so great a commotion 
throughout the land 1 The talisman was gold ! Though 
thousands of miles of deserts intervened, though the path 
was beset by tribes of hostile Indians, though when once 
fairly launched upon their weary journey, they were be 
yond all human aid in distress or suffering, save only such 
as they might afford each other, none of these considera 
tions seem to daunt them for a moment, but rather appeared 
to stimulate their love of adventure ; they halted not, nor 
hesitated a moment, for the talisman was gold! 


Upon the Pacific Ocean, between the thirty-second and 
forty- second parallels of latitude, was situated a country 
which only two years previous had been wrested by con 
quest from Mexico. Whatever Government may have 
known of the capabilities of this isolated and newly- 
acquired territory, its geographic characteristics and re 
sources, the people in mass new but little. To them it was 
nearly a terra incognita. Fremont and Bryant had visited 
it. They spoke of the salubrity of the climate and the fer 
tility of the soil, but blended witli personal narrative, of 
the perils of travel, of wide wastes of desert eind of plains, 
and almost inaccessible mountains, the fairer portions of 
this land and its capabilities were passed over unheeded, 
and less was known of California then than there is of Aus 
tralia now. 

A handful of brave troops had conquered a barren, moun 
tainous country, inhabited by half-civilized Mexicans, with 
a few very few Europeans and Americans, who attracted 
less attention in the States than is now given to the citizens 
of our nearest Territories. There was a large valley in 
habited by native Californians, whose chief resources were 
in their cattle and horses. There was no trade, no manu 
factures of moment. The rest was known as barren moun 
tains, whose snowy crests blended witli the skies, unfit for 
aught else than the habitation of the miserable Digger 
Indian and wild beasts of prey. Briefly, this was the sub 
stance of our knowledge of this country on the Pacific, ex 
tending from north to south about seven hundred miles. 

There were but four or five old Spanish towns if the old 
Missions could be called towns and the whole country, 
and even Monterey, the capital, and its largest town, was 
scarcely as large as Grass Valley is at this moment. 

But the hour had come in which Providence was about 
accomplishing one of those mighty- changes which mark the 
history of nations. The accidental discovery of gold at 
Coloma by Marshall, while washing out a mill-race, changed 
the whole feature of the kaleidoscope. The news flew 
with the wind. Those already living here, who hitherto 
had expected, and would have been content, with a moder- 


ate competency, rushed to those very barren and snowy 
mountains to secure a fortune. All was wonder and fever 
ish excitement. Letters were written to the States, official 
reports of the richness of the discoveries were made, but 
so incredible did they appear, that for a season they were 
suppressed by the Government, which was justly unwilling 
to excite the public pulse too high by such publications. 
But letter after letter came, reiterating the truth of these 
discoveries, and at last, late in the fall of 18S, an old man 
named Cutting arrived in New Orleans from California, 
having in his possession a handsome sum in specimens, 
which he had dug himself in the mines. Of course the 
papers throughout the South and West gave extended 
notices of this, and Cutting (with whom I was personally 
acquainted) was lionized in his passage from New Orleans 
to Illinois. 

But the matter was by this time placed beyond a doubt, 
and the excitement fanned to a flame ; the rush commenced ; 
the throng, bidding farewell to home, domestic comfort, and 
the even tenor of social ties, entered upon the trials and 
hardships of the pioneer emigrant, in search of this barren, 
mountainous, and desolate incognita of California. 

I have stood upon a lofty eminence on the Western prairies, 
as well as upon the Rocky Mountains, where the view em 
braced the horizon, and as far as the eye could reach I have 
seen one continued, unbroken line of moving wagons, with 
their white covers oscillating in the sunlight. I might have 
stood for a day, and watched the moving mass, and yet, 
between the rising and the setting of the sun, this throng of 
life would not have passed by ; arid during the whole dis 
tance of about two thousand miles, I was never moving 
with my own train alone for a single hour. Many trains 
were always in sight, and thus it continued from May till 
the autumn suns had crested the Sierras. 

How many of this mighty throng had for an object the 
settlement of the country, the development of its resources, 
the expansion of its capabilities? How many of them had 
any idea that this new country had any capabilities beyond 
that of producing gold ? How many of these pioneers but 


expected to return ? Among all with whom I came in con 
tact, there was but a single family who designed to make 
California home. There may have been many others, but 
the universal cry was, or seemed to be, "Make our pile- 
go home to enjoy it." They knew nothing they thought 
nothing of what California could produce beyond its 
golden sands. They cared not the talisman was gold ! 
Gold they came for. It was for gold they had dared the 
perils of the plains and the storms of the ocean, and gold 
they would have. Among the great mass there was no idea 
of making a home in California, of surrounding themselves 
with comforts, of transporting their domestic ties here, and 
making an abiding place for life ; of building up a State, of 
ascertaining if it was capable of being rendered the abode 
of improvement and of cultivated minds. It was gold, 
gold, gold ! and getting gold was at first the all-pervading 
idea, the motive of exertion, the main-spring of action. 

Yet Providence was working oat his own ends with the 
genius of our people, and these, too, without the cruelties 
and insatiate love of plunder which actuated the con 
querors of Mexico or Peru. It was wisely decreed that 
"man should earn his bread by the sweat of his brow," 
and that gold should be had, if at all, only by patience and 
unremitting labor. 

In this pursuit many found themselves physically un 
qualified for the severe labor necessary to unearth the 
treasure, and many, too, were unsuccessful in their search, 
and turned from the mines to seek more congenial pursuits. 
Necessity compelled many to engage in other occupations. 
All could not dig; there must be " hewers of wood and 
drawers of water." Other crafts were necessary for the 
good of the body politic, and other professions soon became 
in demand. Soon the discovery was made that the seeming 
barren plains which, they had passed over in midsummer, 
when the ground was parched and dry, would yield by 
proper irrigation and culture, not only the grain and fruits 
of the Northern States, but many of those of the tropics. 
They discovered in time that the fig, the olive, the almond, 
and the pomegranate grew side by side with the apple, the 


plum, the peach, and pear. A new phase was given to the 
pursuits of a proportion of that motley throng, who had 
assembled here from all parts of the world to dig gold. It 
was discovered that California had other capabilities than 
the production of gold alone. It was capable of making a 
good and well-garnered home for families ; it was capable 
of affording even more comforts of life than any one of the 
Atlantic States. There was a salubrity in the climate 
which they had not known at home, and the soil was more 
productive. In a short time men, by agriculture and by 
trade, became in easy circumstances, built goodly houses, 
sent for their families, and seemed content to adopt this 
hitherto barren and mountainous country for a home. 
Towns began to spring up, even in the mountains, as 
well as upon the plains, and upon the rivers and sea 
board ; and then came the necessity of government. Ideas 
rapidly advanced that, after all, California was capable of 
supporting a large population, and furnishing a home and 
happiness beyond the mere production of gold. A State 
Government was now a matter of necessity. 

With Californians, the wish to do, is but the precursor of 
the will ; the will once formed, the work is done, and in 
1850, only a year from the great emigration, and three from 
the conquest, we were knocking at the door of Congress for 
admission as a State. When Congress in its age, and with 
its antiquated notions, looked over its spectacles upon us 
with an incredulous smile of pity, as a little child claim 
ing our share of Uncle Sam s heritage, we boldly affirmed 
that we did not ask it as a favor, we demanded it as a 

It certainly did appear somewhat precocious for a Terri 
tory of only three years of age, to be asking admission as a 
State, and it is not strange that our rulers could not under 
stand our capability of sustaining a State Government. 
They knew that we were sending them large amounts of 
treasure, and this they deemed was all California was capa 
ble of doing, and they withheld their assent to our just 
demands most vexatiously, until our patience was almost 
exhausted, for the exigency of the case made it important 


for our own welfare, that we should have a Government 
more effective than simply a territorial one. 

When, at length, the announcement was made that Con 
gress had finally, though grudgingly, admitted California as 
a State, and that the acts of the people in the premises were 
confirmed, the "glad tidings" were hailed with joy, bon 
fires were kindled, artillery pealed, and acclamations re 
sounded in every town throughout the length and breadth 
of the land, for the people of California loved their breth 
ren at home, and above all the glorious Union of States 
which bound them in one common tie, and they ardently 
desired that the star-spangled banner should wave over 
mountains and plains, a symbol that this, too, was "the 
land of the free and the home of the brave." 

Processions, orations, odes, and illuminations were the 
order of the day. The thousand ships which floated 
proudly in the harbors, were gayly decked with streamers, 
gun after gun boomed over the placid waters, and could 
our Atlantic brethren have witnessed the general joy of the 
brave pioneers, they too would have gladly joined in the 
prolonged shout of " The Union, Now and Forever!" 

The Government once formed, other events naturally fol 
lowed, and prominent among them was a desire to ascertain 
the resources of our infant State. The aid of science was 
invoked, and geological and agricultural surveys instituted. 
Gold and silver we knew were buried in our hills, or sunk 
beneath the streams, but what has been the result of fur 
ther investigation ? Why, that we have within our own 
territory the elements of a nation. Our water-power is 
unlimited. There is enough to move the whole machinery 
of any one State. Our agricultural lands are capable of 
supporting a population larger than the whole of Mexico. 
By actual experiment it is found that California will pro 
duce cotton, sugar-cane, and rice, and also the cereals of the 
Northern States. We are capable of manufacturing every 
thing in California, from our own resources, that a nation 
actually needs for its people. We have an abundance of 
timber for ship-building. The silk-worm and the mulberry 
thrive as well here as in Italy, while the grape rivals those 


grown in sunny France. Our very hills, which but a short 
period since were looked upon as barren and worthless, are 
found by experiment to be capable of growing thrifty vine 
yards and cereal grains. They are already attracting the 
attention of farmers, and every available location is being 
taken up. 

The day will inevitably come when we will rival the vine- 
growing districts of the old world, when we shall become a 
large exporter of wines and brandies, and if the time ever 
comes when our mines shall be worked out, our very hills 
and valleys will not fail to pour out their agricultural treas 
ure for the support of a large population. 

California possesses within her borders, a territory of, 
in round numbers, 100,000,000 acres. Deduct from this 
60,000,000 for lakes, rivers, bays, and sterile mountains, 
and you have left 40,000,000 of available land of various 
qualities which may be used for the support of human 

In a densely peopled country, as in China, for instance, 
an acre of productive ground properly cultivated is suffi 
cient for the support of a single individual ; but allowing 
five acres to each, it shows that California is capable of 
supporting in comparative comfort I mean beyond the 
probability of starvation a population of eight millions 
of the human family. 

Cotton can be cultivated as far north as Sacramento, as 
shown by experiments. El Dorado County has produced it 
(see Trask s Reports) as white as the driven snow ; while that 
of San Diego has been pronounced equal to the best Sea 
Island. The tule lands of the State, once looked upon as 
irreclaimable marshes, will make superior rice-fields, while 
the rich bottom lands of the southern valleys produce as 
fragrant tobacco as is grown in Cuba. Our foot-hills, even 
at an altitude of two thousand feet, produce as fine apples, 
peaches, grapes, and almonds, as are raised in the world, 
and in Grass Valley, which is at an altitude eighteen 
hundred and fifty feet above Sacramento, I can show the 
curious thrifty fig-trees ; though these require a sheltered 
spot from winter storms. 


It is estimated that California is capable of producing not 
less than 50,000,000 pounds of wool yearly. 

As for our mineral riches, beside our gold and silver, we 
have widely distributed, and in sufficient quantities for 
practical purposes : 

Copper In large quantities in the northern counties. 

Iron In Mariposa, Nevada, and Placer, 85 per cent, in 

Copperas Large quantities near Santa Cruz. 

Platinum Diffused yery generally throughout the mines. 

Chromum Used in coloring porcelain and in dying, on 
Nelson s Creek, in Butte County, and other places. 

Gypsum A plaster of Paris, very common. 

Nickel Used in the manufacture of German- silver- ware, 
is found in quantities in Monterey County. 

Porcelain clay For china-ware ; abundant in Grass 
Valley, but very general. 

Pipe clay Very fine ; in Grass Valley, and very general. 

Arsenical ores Very common. 

Antimony In Mount Diablo. 

Cinnabar, Mercury Vast quantities ; already an article 
of export, beside the large amount used by the miners. 

Sulphur, Saltpeter Vast deposits of both in the Coast 

Lead, tin. 

Bitumen Or mineral tar, in vast deposits, southern 

Coal In great abundance ; large veins and quite acces 


Marble Of excellent qualities ; some most beautifully 
variegated, and susceptible of exquisite polish, as that of 


Borax In unlimited quantities, in Napa County. 

Alabaster In Monterey, rivaling the finest Italian. 

Buhrstone For mill stones ; of superior quality. 

Our mines, according to the best authority at my com 
mand, have yielded in gold, since 1849. inclusive, the enor- 


mous sum of $750,000,000 probably more. And who that 
knows them doubts for a moment their capability of yielding 
a like sum in the next ten years, with the proper appliances. 
Manufactures of various kinds have already begun, and 
can we doubt the capacity of California, with all the means 
she possesses, of becoming in time a large exporter instead 
of importer of innumerable articles of commerce, which 
she now buys with her gold and silver, that are carried 
away instead of being retained in the State \ Does not the 
contemplation that we actually possess all these minerals, 
and means of increasing our wealth as a State, fill the mind 
with emotion at the high destiny which Providence seems 
to have marked out for us ? That sooner or later, under a 
wise, just, and liberal Government, which will encourage 
the efforts of our citizens, California will take a prominent 
rank among the States of the Union, for its manufactures, 
as it has already done in the world for its mineral treasures ? 
Is she not capable of attaining the high distinction of being 
among the first, and shall she not improve the talent which 
Heaven has so bountifully bestowed upon her ? Shall the 
capabilities which she possesses be thrown away, while she 
makes for herself a barren Sahara in political economy ? 
Forbid it Heaven ! Shall we not employ every means in 
our power to awaken the General Government to a just 
appreciation of our value to the Union, and leave it no 
peace till it cast aside the trickery of brawling politicians, 
and we obtain at once the strong link which will draw us 
into the folds of the Atlantic States on equal terms, by a 
much needed, long desired, and indispensable railroad, 
stretching from New York to San Francisco \ From our 
beginning as a State to the present moment we have been 
the prey of soulless politicians and speculating sharpers, 
who have regarded only their individual interests in pluck 
ing the State, and who, by anti-railroad movements and 
steamship monopolies, have retarded our growth and injured 
our prosperity. Is it not time that these things should end ? 
There is still another view of the capabilities of Califor- 
nia, which can scarcely be called Utopian. In a climate 
^vhich for salubrity is not excelled by that of any country 


on the globe, the developments of the human system, when 
free from excesses, must be in unison with the surround 
ings of nature. The pure air of the mountains must have 
a beneficial effect upon the physical development of man, 
and with proper training his intellectual faculties must be 
fully matured, and in time, California will produce her full 
quota of distinguished men and women. There seems to 
be something in the climate as well as in the sublime 
scenery which surrounds us, that excites and fosters litera 
ture and science. 

The towering and snow-clad mountains excite the organs 
of sublimity, while our charming lakes and silver streams 
awaken ideas of the beautiful. Our minerals impel the 
action of scientific minds, and our position in the world, as 
being between the eastern and western hemispheres, calls 
the attention of political economists. 

From these deductions may we not draw the inference that 
in future days California will produce her poets, her states 
men, her philosophers, and literary geniuses, who will 
earn for themselves a well-deserved fame on the pages of 
history ? Nowhere have I observed in so small a popula 
tion as ours is at present, so many who desire to walk in 
the paths of literature and science. It seems as if inspira 
tion was forced upon them by our surroundings, and that 
it was a relief to vent their feelings in prose or verse, in 
scientific investigation, or in the study of political economy 
for the use of the world. 

But with all these capabilities, with all in our possession 
which may gratify ambition and make life happy, it is pos- 
sible that we may be stranded on hidden sands. 

A corrupt Government may blast our dearest hopes, 
immorality and vice may blight our highest aspirations, 
selfish and unscrupulous politicians may destroy our surest 
means for exalted happiness, by passing unequal laws. 
When men become non- producers, hanging like drones 
upon society, and gain a preponderance in the affairs of 
State, or the control in our social circles, spending their 
time in drinking, gambling, and vice, casting aside all 
thought of properly applying the means of true greatness 


within our reach, what must be the inevitable result \ A 
degraded and time-serving people a mental Sahara of 
intellect a vulgar ambition for trifles, which do not enno 
ble a barren vineyard in the midst of a blooming garden 
a trouble to ourselves, and a pest to the world. 

Shall we permit this beautiful portion of earth to fall to 
perdition, or shall we adopt in truth our glorious national 
motto, E pluribus unum, in our great cause of expanding 
the capabilities of our State, of demanding from the parent 
Government that appreciation which justly is ours, and to 
make our beloved California a bright star in the national 
galaxy honorable in the world, and desirable as an abid 
ing place for life \A. Delano, " Old Block," in S. F. Mir 
ror, July 26, 1860. 




[O, then, young gentlemen, if you are ambitious 
to become leaders of mankind, consider whether 
it is the walking-beam that moves the engine, 
or the engine that moves the walking-beam. 
You must begin at the bottom and work up 
ward. Go down to the lower strata of society 
and quicken, and agitate, arid elevate the masses. Take 
upon you the scholar s noblest work ; -diffuse your rare, 
true thoughts, and make them common as dew and sunlight. 
Spread your better knowledge as the Spring spreads beau 
ty. Pour it along the valleys, hang it on the shoulders of 
the hills, festoon the rocks, awake the dormant life of tree, 
and bulb, and slumberous seed, kiss barrenness from the 
face of the desert, and make it rejoice and blossom as the 
rose. Believe me, congresses and cabinets and courts are 
nourished by the roots which reach these countless hidden 
springs. The character and power of governments have a 
common origin, inasmuch as both are from the people. The 
sure way to make the hands move round the dial-face with 


order and precision is, to regulate the concealed machinery 
of the chronometer. 

Not to outshine, but to shine out ; not to indicate, but to 
create ; not to rise above men, but to raise men above them 
selves, is the ambition of great and consecrated souls. 
Curiously enough, that which is the aim of a genuine phi 
lanthropy, is the soundest philosophy of reformation and 
success. It was Jesus who said, " Whosoever will be great 
among you, let him be your minister. Whosoever will be 
chief among you, let him be your servant." The noble 
spirits are they who go down to the basest and lowest of 
their kind with messages of instruction and hope. 

" Voiced like heaven s lark amidst the night of hell " are 
" great" and "chief," greater than conquerors and kings. 
The work is heroic it is Christian-like and it reaches 
grand and visible results with a comprehensive breadth 
and certainty unknown to more superficial measures. 
Raise those fundamental masses a degree in average intelli 
gence and morals, and you carry up all that is above them. 
Make them better, and by inevitable sequence you make 
every thing better up to the dome of the Capitol. God 
never meant that respectability and order and religion 
and law, should ripple and sparkle and float securely on 
the surface of a fathomless sea of ignorance and moral pol 
lution. He never meant that the work of salvation should 
proceed backward and downward. Christ began where 
those who are content to imitate him must begin where 
the reformers of history have all begun preaching the 
gospel to the poor. Bend low, and you will lift humanity. 
Lifting humanity, you carry up all its institutions with it. 
Such is the great and terrible responsibility of the privi 
leged few for the condition of the unprivileged many. 
Such is the inexorable rule of remedy for the social and 
political evils that affect mankind. 

To do such a work, you must be ready to accept inca 
pacity, incredulity, misconstruction, and the unscrupulous 
hostility of every wicked interest which you seek to uproot. 
Send forth your good thought to encounter the common 
fate of purifying ministers. They will strip it naked, shoe 


it with a peasant s clogs, trick it out fantastically like a 
clown, pelt it with mud, spit upon it, buffet it, crown it 
with thorns, crucify it. Be content ; if it die, it shall live 
again. Never contend for the mere fashion and draping of 
your ideas. Never grow impatient or desponding because 
you meet with reluctance and unbelief. 

" There is more faith in honest doubt, 
Believe me, than in half the creeds." 

They that fling a blank refusal in your face, will afterward 
repent and go. 

Go down to the substratum, the broad social bed-rock, 
and work up with a will. Condescend to men of low 
estate. Enforce good counsel with a blameless life. Suf 
fuse and kindle the life with the auroral beauty and fervid 
glow of Christ-begotten love. In the lowest human crea 
ture recognize a brother, in the weakest a helper, in the 
most perfidious a friend. A greater than you and I stooped 
to the helpless and guilty, and when he was lifted up, even 
upon a cross, he drew all men unto Him. Wait as if there 
was no working. Work as if there was no waiting. So 
will you resolve the equation, and complete the circle of a 
brave, true, and effective life. 

" Think truly, and each thought of thine 

Shall the world s hunger feed ; 
Live truly, and thy life shall be 
A great and noble creed." 


Two straight lines placed in relation to each other, as 
indicated in the diagram, seem greatly dis 
proportionate in length, although they are 
exactly equal. We have tried the illusory 
experiment a hundred times on as many dif 
ferent persons, and they have invariably pro 
nounced the perpendicular line much the 
longest. We can give no other explanation for this effect 


than that the perpendicular line and horizontal line meet in 
the center of the latter. Will any one give a more satisfac 
tory solution ? 


[N geography, climate, and soil, California is often 
said to resemble Italy. It is probable that here 
after, when this State obtains adequate popula 
tion, it will present an agricultural system similar 
in its prominent features to that which exists in 
that classic land. In a recent number of the New York 
Nation, George P. Marsh, American Minister at Turin, gives 
some very interesting facts concerning the agricultural prog 
ress of Italy. We quote : 

The total continental and insular surface of the kingdom, 
excluding, of course, the Austro- Italian provinces and the 
States of the Church, amounts to about sixty-four millions 
of acres, or one hundred thousand square miles. Upon a 
rough comparison, then, we may say that the kingdom of 
Italy is about one and a half times as large as New England, 
about equal to New York and Pennsylvania taken together, 
little more than half as large as California, considerably less 
than half the size of Texas, and but one- twenty -ninth part 
as extensive as the United States of America. 

The great lakes occupy a surface of rather less than half a 
million of acres. About 925,000 acres are covered with small 
lakes, shallow pools, and other stagnating waters, more 
than half of which, it is thought, could be drained with 
advantage. The extent of originally boggy and marshy 
lands is estimated at 1,300,000 acres, of which 500,000 have 
been already reclaimed, and 200,000 are in process of im 
provement by draining. 

The soil devoted to the growth of rice amounts to 450,000 
acres. Of these grounds, about two-thirds are liooded at 
pleasure from perennial streams, the remainder being sup 
plied from reservoirs of rain-water and other sources quali 
fied as adventitious." It is a ,fact of interest that not more 


than one-tenth part of the rice grounds of Italy lie south of 
the parallel of forty-four degrees north latitude, while in 
the United States little rice is grown north of the thirty-fifth 
degree. In other words, the southern limit of profitable 
cultivation of this grain in Italy is nine degrees, or 600 
miles north of the northern limit of the same branch of 
agriculture in the United States. This difference is by no 
means due wholly to climatic causes ; for, though the 
summer temperature of our Atlantic and valley States 
would not admit much extension of rice culture northward, 
there is nothing in the climate of Italy to prevent the 
growth of rice in any part of the peninsula except in the 
mountainous districts. The cause of the difference lies in the 
special geographical character of northern, central, and 
southern Italy, respectively. In the former division there 
is a far greater extent of gently sloping plain, admitting 
easy flooding, and therefore suited to the cultivation of 
rice, than in the two latter, and the Alps and the northern 
scarp of the Apennines afford much more abundant supplies 
of water than the middle and southern ridges of the latter 
chain. Besides, rice culture would be much more preju 
dicial to health in southern than in northern Italy, and the 
habits of the population are less favorable to so severe and 
disagreeable a branch of agricultural industry in the former 
than in the latter provinces. 

The regularly irrigated lands in the Italian kingdom 
already amount to not less than 3,350,000 acres, or more 
than 5,200 square miles. The Canal Cavour, now very 
near completion, will add 250,000 square miles to this 
quantity, and numerous other canals for the same purpose 
are in course of construction, or at least projected with 
prospect of success. It is computed that in Lombardy a 
proper supply of water increases the annual product of 
lands by about twenty dollars per acre, at the present 
prices of agricultural growths. There are few crops which 
are not irrigated when the means are at hand, and even 
chestnut, walnut, and forest trees are not unfrequently 
watered with manifest advantage. In the Alps, irrigation 
is carried up to the very foot of the glaciers, and on the 


southern slope of those mountains water is applied to 
meadows which lie farther northward than the city of 
Montreal, and higher than the highest peak of the White 
Mountains. About half the Italian rice fields are supplied 
with water by means of artificial canals, often large enough 
for boats of considerable burden, and furnishing a great 
amount of power for driving machinery ; the residue are 
flowed by small conduits from rivers, reservoirs, springs, 
and wells. There is in Italy unquestionably a very great 
extent of soil valuable for pasturage and the growth of 
timber, but too rugged and broken in surface for irrigation, 
and there are large districts which have no means of ob 
taining sufficient water. There are also regions where, 
from the constitution of the superficial and the subsoil, 
from peculiarities of local climate, and from other circum 
stances, irrigation is neither practiced nor needed, and some 
of the lands of this description sell at high prices ; but, in 
Italian husbandry generally, water is almost as necessary 
as solar heat to profitable agriculture. The stimuli of neces 
sity and profit are encouraging great efforts for the exten 
sion of the system of irrigation, and in all probability the 
day is not very far distant when the current of every spring 
and brook and river in Italy will have been at least once 
utilized for irrigation, for hydraulic machinery, or for navi 

A very considerable proportion of the Italian peninsula 
and islands being covered by barren mountains, and much 
of the lowlands being so unhealthy as to be scarcely habit 
able, the amount of land which can be made to produce 
food for man or for domestic animals, or vegetable growths 
required for other human use, is relatively small, and the 
twenty-two millions of souls that compose the population 
must draw their nourishment from an extent of territory 
which seems insignificant to eyes familiar with the vast 
expansion of our own arable soil. Hence, while the wages 
of the farm-laborer are low, probably not much exceeding, 
on the average, a franc a day, without board, the price of 
land is high, and it is only under exceptional circumstances 
that he who inherits no patrimony can hope to own the 


smallest portion of the soil lie tills. The landed proprietors 
of Italy, like those of France, are tenacious of their acres, 
and sales of real estate are much less common in those 
countries than in our own, where lands and houses pass 
from hand to hand almost as readily as personal property. 
So rare are transfers of land in Italy, in fact, that a 
stranger can gather from his own observation, or from per 
sonal inquiry, very little information as to the current 
market yalue of real estate. The report under consider 
ation attempts to give from local returns the average prices 
of meadow and arable grounds, and, in many cases, of 
woods, vineyards, heaths, and marshes in each province. 
The range of discrepancy in price between dry and ir 
rigable land is very great ; for, while in some situations 
pastures or meadows without water are not worth more 
than twenty, or even ten dollars an acre, there are irrigated 
lands which command not less than six hundred dollars an 
acre. I do not refer to market garden grounds in the imme 
diate vicinity of large towns, or vineyards planted with favor 
ite growths, which are sold at fancy prices, but to lands de 
voted to ordinary cultivation. Besides original character of 
soil and convenience to high-roads and markets, the value of 
irrigated lands is much affected by the quality and usual 
temperature of the water supplied to them. A warm rivulet, 
which brings down and deposits vegetable slime or enrich 
ing mineral substances, may double, or even decuple the 
price of the land it waters, while cold glacier streams, 
charged with silicious sediment, add very little to the price 
of the soil over which they are conducted. So far as the 
writer of this notice can judge from the returns before him, 
and from a good deal of inquiry, he thinks that lands of the 
same relative value as those which compose the bulk of 
New England and New York farming grounds, are worth in 
Italy from seventy-five to two hundred and fifty dollars an 
acre. Sacramento Union, April, 1866. 



jHE Old World goes on analyzing, scribbling, 
fighting, traveling, and talking in this year 
1864, as in every year of the last six thousand. 
There is no "let up" in poetry, science, let 
ters, nor art, and the journalists must display 
their mimic wares to the world s gossips, think 
ers, and long- heads, till the crack of doom. At the same 
time the German Solomons, with glass of ten thousandfold 
magnifying^, are scrupulously examining the structure of a 
butterfly s wing, and pouring over thousands of musty 
tomes to find the true meaning of a new Sanscrit, Chinese, 
or Iberian language, or at present consumedly absorbed, as 
only Teutonics can be, in the study of the very languages 
of this Alta California and Arizona, as spoken by their abo 
rigines from Behring s Straits to Cape San Lucas. One of 
the eminent American authors in this latter line, and well 
known in California from 1851 to 1860, as engaged in public 
employments in this State, and in Oregon and Washington, 
is George Gibbes, whose works on the Indian tribes of the 
Pacific domain, all original essays and investigations, have 
been several times referred to in the Bulletin. In July last, 
copies were received here of his treatises on the languages 
of the Clallam and Lummi clans of Puget Sound, published 
in Shea s series of Indian Linguistics, which has now at 
tained its eleventh volume, and is well known in Europe 
and America as one of unique and recondite merit in philo 
logical science. The new volume of Gibbes s consists of 
some nine hundred words of Clallam and twelve hundred 
words of Lummi, which will be found of much practical 
use to the settlers of Puget Sound in their intercourse with 
the Indians of all those sections, and of Vancouver Island. 
By this, some three thousand people can be communicated 
with in their native tongue, even as high up as Fraser 
River, and with his last year s volume of Chinook-English 
jargon (one thousand words and phrases), which is a greatly 
amended and improved treatise of all that had been written 


on the subject before, the trader, explorer, and miner is 
greatly assisted in his objects. Gibbes is known in Califor 
nia letters as the author of valuable notes on the north 
coast California tribes, while in service with the Indian 
Superintendent, R. McKee, in his expedition to Mendocino 
and Klamath, in 1851, published by the Government in 
School craft s volumes. In 1862, in connection with Mr. 
Shea, formerly a Professor in St. John s College, New York, 
and well known for his excellent histories of the Catholic 
missions and churches in the United States, Gibbes pub 
lished a translation from the French of Pandosy s grammar 
and dictionary of the Yakamas of the Columbia ; and he 
has now going through the press in New York a dictionary 
of the Nisqually tongue of Puget Sound. Since 1861, he 
has been employed on a work of extended dimensions on 
the Indian nations between the Bay of San Francisco and 
Behring s Straits, including those from the Rocky Moun 
tains to the ocean, for the Smithsonian Institution, and for 
which his voluminous observations on the Indian tribes of 
Stevens s railroad exploration of 1853, on the northern line, 
contained in the first volume of those surveys, and his offi 
cial services in Campbell s survey of the British Columbia 
and Nebraska boundary of 1860, amply qualify him. 
Beside these efforts, he is now collecting material for an 
ethnological chart of all the Indian races of the Pacific 
domain, to be published in connection with those of other 
gentlemen, whose labors will include all Mexico, Central 
America, and the entire of North America, from Panama 
to Hudson s Bay. We can, therefore, say that Gibbes is 
truly a hard-working author, and his works a credit to Cal 
ifornia. San Franeicso Bulletin. 





iHE Amazon is not a stream ; it is a submerged 
plain, about three thousand miles in length and 
five hundred to seven hundred miles in width, 
and entirely occupied by a fresh- water basin, 
through which the river flows from the Andes 
to the Atlantic, and which is overgrown by the 
most luxurious vegetation upon earth. To form an idea of 
the Amazon we must discard the idea of a sloping valley, 
in the center of which flows a stream. It is but one exten 
sive plain, even and flat. The slope of the plain or valley 
of the Amazon does not exceed 240 feet from the borders of 
Peru to the Atlantic Ocean. It ought rather to be called a 
fresh-water ocean with innumerable branches pouring into 
the Atlantic. And so combined is it with the Atlantic that 
it is difficult to tell where one begins and the other ends. 
Sailing along the coast, and long before you see any indi 
cations of a continent, you are already in the turbid waters 
of a mighty stream. Thirty miles off the coast you are in it, 
and as you advance, the blue waters of the ocean disap 
pear, until at last you are in a broad expanse of muddy 
waters. This is the Amazon. At the point where it meets 
the ocean it is 150 miles wide. The mass of waters is so 
great that 2,000 miles above its mouth it contains innumer 
able islands, forming one great system, rendering it difficult 
to tell which channel constitutes the river. One of the 
islands (Marajo) at the lower extremity of the Amazon is 
half as large as Ireland, and a channel of the river on one 
side of this island is so wide that in sailing up it you can 
not see either shore. You sail up. the Amazon 1,200 miles 
before it has the appearance of a channel, with banks indi 
cating that it is a river. The tide of the ocean is felt 400 
miles above the city of Para. The tributaries of the Ama 
zon are as colossal in their character as the river itself. 
From Para to the borders of Peru is 2,000 miles, and at the 




borders of Peru the Amazon lias tributaries which may be 
navigated by the largest vessels for five hundred miles 
above the point where they intersect the Amazon. The 
Amazon flows from west to east in nearly the same latitude 
and nearly under the equator. The tributaries that inter 
sect it on the northern bank are swollen different seasons 
from those that intersect it on the south bank, owing to the 
different months in which the rainy season occurs in the 
regions through which they flow, so that when the northern 
tributaries are swollen by the rains the southern are low. 
The consequence of this is that the main channel of the 
Amazon is shifted from right to left at different seasons a 
distance of eighty miles. The whole of this immense plain 
or valley of the Amazon is one uninterrupted forest, and so 
dense is the vegetation that it may be said to be impenetrable. 
The vegetation seems to arise out of the water. Scarcely 
anywhere in this valley are hills or mountains to be seen 
the highest is not over one thousand feet. All of them 
have flat tops, presenting a very remarkable appearance. 
The lecturer said he was curious to ascertain the origin of 
these hills, and visited many of them for that purpose. He 
found them composed mostly of gravel and sand deposited 
in strata, and he became satisfied that they were once far 
more numerous and extensive, and occupied no inconsidera 
ble portion of the valley. There was no other way of 
explaining these hills than on the theory that the water was 
at one time so high as to cover them, and had gradually 
fallen away, leaving the hills, which had been deposited 
under the water, standing. Thus the whole basin of the 
Amazon, three thousand miles long and from five hundred 
to seven hundred miles wide, was once flooded with water. 
He considered these hills as standing witnesses to the fact 
that extensive fields of ice and glaciers once occupied the 
region of Brazil and the tropics, which showed what 
changes had taken place between a comparatively recent 
date and the present time. But to return to the Amazon 
and its general aspect. The vegetation of the Amazonian 
region consisted in part of tropical forests, which, unlike 
our forests, did not contain clusters of the same family, but 


groups of various trees. There was not an oak, maple, elm, 
or poplar in the valley of the Amazon, nor a plant allied to 
those which form our forests. 

There were remarkable specimens of trees which belong 
ed to the same family as the locust, one of the peculiarities 
of which was to have leaves that are not simple, but along 
which are lateral leaflets. The myrtle, which was a small 
shrub here, performed an important function in that region, 
furnishing a variety of fruit as diverse, luscious, pleasant, and 
refreshing as those of the family to which our rose belonged 
with us the pear, cherry, apricot, peach, plum, and almond. 
The great Brazilian chestnut was the first of that family. 
Its fruit was about the size of two fists, contained a num 
ber of triangular nuts, and the tree itself one of the colossi 
of the forests of Brazil grew to a height of one hundred 
and eighty or two hundred feet. Others allied to it bore 
fruit of still larger dimensions, some of which were known 
as "monkeys spoons" and "monkeys hats," and these 
represented, as it were, the almonds of the rose-bush family. 
Then there was the guava, also one of the representa 
tives of the myrtle family. Its fruit was not unlike the 
quince. There was, too, a variety of plum and cherry- 
like fruits to be found. Let us now advance a step 
further in describing the aspect of the forests in these 
tropical regions. A remarkable feature of the forests of 
the Amazon was the immense number of vines and parasit 
ical plants that were seen clinging to the trees and inter 
lacing all their branches. So dense do they make the 
forest that it is almost impossible to penetrate it outside of 
the Indian trails. And then the beauty and regularity of 
these vines and parasites was one of the most charming 
features of the scenery. It will be forever impossible to 
build roads in the valley of the Amazon. The natural 
roads are already built, and they consist of the innumerable 
streams of water that ramify the whole country, and which 
can be traversed by steam or sail. The present population 
of this valley is only 250,000, including Indians, Europeans, 
and Americans. It is one of the most beautiful countries- 
healthy, rich, and productive and he should not wonder 


if the time came when it would be inhabited by 25,000,000 
people. At present, however, it was given over to an indo 
lent race who could never appreciate its beauties or develop 
its wealth. He desired to correct a prevailing notion that 
because this country lay in the tropics it must therefore be 
unhealthy. It was generally supposed to be hot, malarious, 
and sickly, but it was not so. The trade winds sent forth a 
constant gentle breeze through the whole year. Except in 
the middle of the day, the temperature was never oppress 
ively hot. The usual temperature was eighty-four de 
grees, and it seldom reached ninety degrees. The nights 
were always cool. The fevers that prevail in some places 
came not from the climate, but from the habits of the people, 
who do not take proper care of themselves. Where the 
climate is warm it is not uncomfortable to be wet, and 
people will allow their clothing to get wet through and 
become dry upon them, and if they are seized with fever the 
climate is the cause. Those who were wiser undressed 
before a rain storm and dressed afterward, and in that way 
avoided a bath in their clothing. [A laugh.] All the rich 
productions which our country obtain from this region come 
from the forests. India rubber is obtained from a wild tree 
which everybody taps. The gatherers of india rubber go 
into the forest and sleep upon the wet ground, and live 
upon badly prepared fish, and when they get malarious 
diseases it is the climate and not their way of life which is 
charged with being the cause. Prof. Agassiz was satisfied 
that fortunes could be acquired in the valley of the Amazon 
with comparatively small labor. With regard to timber, 
he had seen on exhibition at Para, one hundred and seven 
teen kinds of costly timber, some of them of the most beau 
tiful grain, which had been cut down from a piece of ground 
half a mile square. He had himself brought home a mere 
accidental collection of over three hundred different kinds 
collected in the valley of the Amazon accidental, because 
botany was not the object of his survey. What was true 
of timber was equally true of textile fabrics , was equally 
true of the various kinds of fruit which might be prepared 
and made to contribute to the comforts and luxuries of life. 


So, if that country could be settled by an enterprising 
population he had no doubt it would rapidly rise to wealth 
and prosperity ; and until that time arrived let those who 
would enjoy the stillness and grandeur of nature ascend the 
Amazon a couple of thousand miles. It can be done with as 
much ease and comfort as you can ascend the Rhine. Good 
steamers ascend to the borders of Peru once or twice a 
month, and every comfort is afforded the traveler. Ladies 
especially should take the trip, and in the luxurious shades 
of the Amazon avoid the dogdays of our northern climate. 
It was only by going there that impressions could be gained 
of the grandeur and beauty of nature such as no pen or 
tongue could portray. 


(f E find a very well written and doubtless correct 
description of this body of water and the adja 
cent scenery in the Sonora Democrat. The 
waters of the lake and the surrounding country 
are not unlike those in the region of the Dead 
Sea in Palestine, and will be regarded among 
the curiosities of California. Sacramento Union, Novem 
ber, 1859. 

A curious theme for investigation is presented in Mono 
Lake, which, being surrounded by volcanic mountains, ap 
pears to be the depressed crater of a volcano filled with 
water. This lake has in its center two islands, one of which 
appears to be a long ridge of white lava, and the other a 
black, well defined crater rising some fifty feet above the 
surface of the water. The first is called on some maps 
Grand Island, and the last Beauty Island. 

As in other alkaline regions, the traveler in the vicinity 
of this lake is affected by constant illusions. When he 
first sees its waters from the mountains north of Monoville 
they appear right at his feet, and he doubts not but a few 
moments walk will take him to their shores ; but his 
patience is overcome as he travels on, and finds the dis- 


tance to be a long seven miles. From every point from 
which the lake is visible, whether from the distance of 
seven or twenty miles, still it appears to be close by you. 
This body of water looks to be one or two miles in diam 
eter, but in passing around its circumference to the starting 
point you pass over a distance of ninety miles. The diam 
eter of the lake is, therefore, thirty miles, giving a superfi 
cial area of 675 square miles. 

The two islands above noticed appear to be close to the 
shore you approach, but as you proceed up the lake on the 
west or east side, they seem to follow your steps until 
fifteen or twenty miles are passed over, when they are 
slowly left in the rear. A gentleman residing in Sonora, 
Major Patrick, assisted a few months since in constructing a 
boat to visit these islands, believing a trip to them would 
prove to be a short pleasure excursion. But the enterprise 
lost much of its attraction by the fact that the boat was 
rowed twenty miles before reaching the nearer one of 

This lake and the region surrounding it come as near to 
the fictions of enchantment as any other known realities. 
The illusions of distance and other phenomena, presently to 
be noticed, will convince any one of this fact. 

Though its waters are insufferably alkaline, yet the mar 
gins of the lake, whereon the sun exerts its generating in 
fluence, produce millions of indigenous flies, on which and 
on their larvce and pupa, ducks, hogs, and Indians are sus 
tained and fattened. Even a real Christian told me when he 
was there that he had eaten the worm (pupa), and found it 
very palatable, it "tasting very much like sardines." Not 
a fish, however, nor frog, nor other living thing, except 
the flies in question, lives within these waters. In fact, the 
lake is appropriately named, for instead of confining the 
attention to the meaning of the Spanish adjective mono, as I 
did last week, I would take the original Greek word monos, 
which means, moreover, " deserted, forsaken." Even good 
water-dogs will never enter for the second time this lake to 
bring out the killed or wounded ducks ; it is truly a " de 
serted lake." 


The ducks are found only around the mouths of fresh 
. water streams, three of which fall into the western side of 
the lake. At one place, also on the west side, about one 
hundred yards from the land, a fresh-water spring boils up 
from the bottom of the lake, presenting a convex surface of 
water. Here the ducks congregate in thousands, laying 
themselves, struggling and sporting in this fresh fountain 
as it bursts through the bitter, lacustrine fluid. 

As indicated by the shores, very little rise ever occurs in 
the waters of this lake. The evaporation from so large a 
surface, and in so dry a climate, disposes constantly of all 
the supplies of water of which it is the recipient. Beside 
the three large creeks emptying into the west side, Mc 
Lean s River empties into the north and Crosby s River into 
the south side. Moreover, thousands of springs and rivu 
lets all around the lake are busy in contributing their sup 
plies to this singular body of water. The water is transpa 
rent, and when closely inspected it appears as if infused 
with clear oil. The surface of the lake is generally smooth, 
though here and there, over its vast extent, ripples may be 
seen curling and playing in the strong breeze. There is 
rarely any thing like a wave on its surface, as its oily 
nature prevents any friction of the wind. 

The flies above noticed are amphibious. Two and three 
feet under water they are seen clustered on stones ; and, 
rising to the surface, they sport awhile in the air and on the 
water, going down into it with the same freedom as they 
came out. These flies are classed, I believe, with the insects 
known as the neuroptera (or nerve wing), and their family 
or species is called epJiemeridce,. They exist in the larva and 
pupa conditions for two or three years in the water ; but 
after progressing to the imago, or perfect form, they imme 
diately fill their function of propagation and "die, leaving 
the ground covered to such a thickness as to make it worth 
while to cart them away for manure." (Vide Reese s 
Zoology, pp. 33-4). However, the flies which are gener 
ated around the borders of Mono Lake, prove to be, as above 
said, an excellent article for animal subsistence. Millions of 
ducks become as fat as butter on this food ; the Indians 


who feed on them look as fine as if they luxuriated con 
stantly on the savory viands of our fashionable restaurants ; 
the hogs kept on the borders of the lake to feed on these flies 
become exceedingly fat ; and indeed it is not unreasonable 
to suppose that the miners and others who settle there may 
yet adopt them as an article of diet in preference to "sar 
dines and costly luxuries. But this subject of flies and 
their metamorphosis, classification, &c., must be left for the 
study of the competent entomologist. 

The shores of this lake, and the vegetable matter in their 
vicinity, are frosted over with an efflorescence of snowy 
alkali. It is said this substance renders bread very light 
and delightful. It is probable that this alkali is simply the 
sulphate of soda, as it possesses a cooling, nauseous, and 
bitter taste. Moreover, the water of the lake contains, doubt 
less, sulphur in solution. Its smell indicates this. I have 
submitted a bottle of this water to our distinguished citi 
zen, Dr. Snell, who will in due time correctly analyze it. 

Mono Lake belongs doubtless to that great system of soda, 
alkaline, and sulphur lakes found east of the Sierra Nevada 
Mountains, in what is called the Great Basin region. Like 
all those lakes it has no outlet, and it is surrounded by 
"wide-spread traces of volcanoism," such as extinct craters, 
hot springs, disrupted mountains, and a burnt, sterile soil. 
Its shores are covered or thickly paved with rounded ba 
saltic and felspathic stones. No silicious gravel or sand 
occurs there, the silex having been dissolved by the alka 
line lake water. 

Mono Lake is more literally a "dead sea" than the sea of 
Sodom. According to Dr. Clarke, that "sea swarms with 
fishes, and shells abound on its shores." Mono Lake has 
neither. The extreme length and breadth of the Dead Sea, 
according to Mariti, are 75 by 16 miles, giving a superficial area 
of 600 square miles. Whereas, Mono Lake contains 675 square 
miles. The rivers Jordan and Arnon, and the brook Ki- 
dron, beside many rivulets, empty into the Dead Sea. Into 
Mono Lake, McLane s River falls from the north, and Cros 
by s River from the south, and three large brooks or creeks 
fall into it from the west, beside numerous rivulets and springs 


all around its borders. But this lake not only responds to 
the Greek epithet monos, as being "alone, solitary, deserted, 
forsaken," but it also answers to the same adjective as 
explained in the Spanish as being "pretty, nice, neat." 
The lake takes as many shapes as the points differ from 
which you view it. From the west side, about ten miles 
from its northern limit, it appears like a beautiful crescent, 
its horns curving delicately around you on the right and 
left. From the north, it appears to be nearly circular, like 
the full moon, the islands in its waters strikingly represent 
ing the clouded spots on that planet. From the east, it 
appears to have no particular shape, but it stretches off 
irregularly among the mountains. But from all these points 
you see the whole lake, and it appears to be only a small 
body of water, no more than one or two miles in diameter. 
Wherever springs and streams favor vegetation around the 
valley of this lake, you will find patches of grazing grounds, 
the grass being mostly coarse and wiry, but said to be 
nutritious. The predominating vegetation, however, all 
over this cold, sterile region is sage-brush. 

There is little or no echo around this lake, and indeed it 
is difficult to understand a person talking at a little distance. 
A dreamy, spell-like spirit seems to pervade the atmos 
phere. The smooth, glassy surface of the waters, the up 
heaved, disrupted volcanic mountains surrounding the lake, 
looking down, as it were, into this abyss of their ejection ; 
the illusions of vision and the whitened shores, thickly 
columned in many places with vesicular lava, which looks 
like monuments erected to the "mighty dead," all conspire 
to impress the- mind with the idea of a fictitious scene por 
trayed by the pencil of an omnipotent hand. 

J. R. Y. 


From the Alia Californian, Feb. 28, 1859. 

ET this day not pass by into the great ocean of 
time, and be numbered among those that were, 
unnoticed, for it is an anniversary worthy of 
some emphatic testimonial of observance at the 
hands of this people. On this day, just ten 
years ago, the first wave of the immigration from the 
older States, moved by the common impulse imparted to 
hundreds of thousands of our fellow-countrymen, as well as 
other of the world s people, reached these shores and 
began the work of building up a majestic empire of free 
men, upon the outmost western verge of the continent. It 
is the anniversary of the arrival of the steamer California 
in the harbor of San Francisco just ten years ago, with her 
load of living freight, whose names are recorded in another 

Of a truth it may be said of them, they were the pioneers 
in the establishment of a new State upon this side of the 
continent. Others had preceded them, who had been 
moved by different impulses to seek out a new home here, 
and who perhaps may better be entitled to wear the honor 
able appellation of pioneers, from having sought this land 
under none of those excitable and selfish motives, if we 
please to call them so, which the subsequent discovery of 
gold created in the minds of so many thousands.^ Theirs 
are, however, honors that belong to them alone, an d which 
we would not, knowingly, seek to deprive them of. We 
are writing now only of that great march of empire that, in a 
few brief months, took up its majestic way along the track 
less ocean, over broad deserts and across forbidding moun 
tains, through malarious jungles and tropical swamps, 
braving disease, hardship, and perils of every kind, on its 
final destination to these auriferous shores that tide of 
population that had its origin and its growth, 

" As when the wind, ascending by degrees, 
Disturbs the whitening surface of the seas, 


The billows float in order to the shore, 
The wave behind rolls on the wave before, 
Till, with the growing storm the deeps arise, 
Foam o er the rocks, and thunder to the skies." 

So began the process of populating this great and power 
ful State, ten years ago to-day, when the California came 
to an anchor in the Bay of San Francisco ; so did it grow 
and swell into a vast and mighty multitude, outvieing all 
that the world had e er before witnessed, in the splendid 
and imposing results which followed ; and is it too much to 
say, all that will e er again be beheld of a similar character, 
throughout the long vista of coming time ! 

More than three hundred souls, who had for months pur 
sued their trackless way along the mighty deeps, ten years 
ago to-day, first stepped foot upon the sand beach that lay 
along in front of the little hamlet of Yerba Buena, consti 
tuting the vanguard of an army of free and industrious 
people, who came, not as conquerors to overrun, lay 
waste, pillage and spoil the land, but to build up a new 
empire upon a foundation of enterprise and freedom, to rear 
aloft a commonwealth that was destined, in its future con 
nection with, and relation toward the world, to wield a 
golden scepter, potent and powerful in guiding and con 
trolling the tide of commercial intercourse between all the 
great nations of the earth. 

There are few among us claiming to be old residents of 
California who will not recognize in the list comprising 
this band of early comers many a familiar name, which we 
do now, or have at one time, numbered among our fellow- 
citizens. True it is, that theirs has been the common lot of 
the masses who were among the pioneers of California, and 
time has been busy with them, as with us, working changes 
which we will not attempt to follow, adding blessings and 
misfortunes alike, with the same unpitying and indiscrimi 
nate distribution, the full share of which is allotted to man 
kind all alike, over the wide, wide world, whithersoever 
we may go, in chase of fame and fortune. Ten years ago, 
on this auspicious day, the good steamer first parted with 
her sharp prow the glistening water that slept in the morn- 



ing sunlight within the two walls that comprise the Golden 
Gate. Ask of one whom you may meet in your walks 
upon the street to-day, who belonged to this band, and he 
will tell you with what feelings of ambitious hope and joy 
he first gazed upon the stars and stripes that floated over 
the barracks of the Presidio nestled in the little green 
nook upon the right, as the steamer passed on up toward 
the spot now occupied by a great and populous city. He 
will tell you what feelings of grateful emotion that flag in 
spired, and how eloquently it spoke to him of home and the 
fatherland. Spring, as now, had then mantled the hills 
with her emerald tapestry. The deer, and the herds of the 
thrifty rancheros, enjoyed a joint occupancy of their slopes, 
and of the valleys, and nibbled the tender blades of the 
upspringing grass unmolested and undisturbed, where now 
farms and well cultivated fields lie spread out in the sun 
light, like the rich mosaic handiwork of oriental nations. 

We need not dwell upon the vast changes which time 
since then has wrought in this prosperous land, for truly 
do " we spend our years as a tale that is told," and with 
this tale all are familiar. With its closing period is com 
pleted the first decade of years, numbering from that grand 
-epoch in the world s history from which dates the so-called 
4 gold excitement" that resulted in peopling California, and 
made, in a few brief months, a great and prosperous State 
out of a previously but little known and sparsely populated 
territory, that had for centuries slept in waste and solitude, 
bearing in its bosom wealth enough to have laden all the 
ships of Tarshish ten thousand times over, yet undis 
covered and unknown, kept from the knowledge of man 
kind until the allotted time appointed by an all- wise God, 
doubtless with a special and blessed purpose. 

"The days of our years are threescore and ten ; and if 
by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their 
strength labor and sorrow ; for it is soon cut off and we 
fly away." Thus, according to the words of the Psalmist, 
has passed away, a wide period of an existence, during this 
decade of years which the dawning of this day completes. 
It has brought with it care, sorrow, and tribulation for most 


of us all, as well as for those who first set foot upon these 
shores ten years ago to-day it has given happiness unal 
loyed to none. If we take this band of early comers as a 
type of those who succeeded them, all upon the same com 
mon errand the acquisition of fortune and happiness we 
shall find, as their good and evil fortunes have been, so, 
too, have been our own. The grim Reaper with his relent 
less sickle, has not been more busy with them than with us, 
nor has their lot been more varied, and deeper tinted with 
misfortune and bitterness than our own. 

As they have been, so Ave, too, are crowned with these 
years of hope, fear, joy, misfortune, and the thousand and 
one mixed experiences of California life ; so we, too, may 
profit if we will, by the lesson which this anniversary affords. 

While, therefore, we contemplate with a just pride and 
pleasure, the proud empire of civil and religious liberty, 
which we have, during this period, so firmly established 
upon these shores, let us not forget how rapid has been 
this flight of time, and how much of misfortune has fallen 
from its wings upon us all, because of our own errors, in 
the pathway along which we chose to wend our way, 
during so much of existence as is comprised in the decade 
just closed. 


M. LEO L&SQUEKEu, the well-known geologist, who has 
carefully studied the prairies of the Mississippi valley, 
ascribes their general formation to the agency of water. 
He says : 

"All the prairies still in a state of formation along the 
great lakes of the north are nothing else but marshes slowly 
passing to dry land by slow recession of water. When 
land is continually covered by low stagnant w^ater, its only 
vegetation is that of the rushes and of the sedges. When 
the same land is alternately subjected to long inundations 
and to dryness, during some months of the year, the same 
plants continue to cover it. By their decomposition these 


marshy plants produce a peculiar ground, either black, 
light, permeable when it is mixed with sand, as it is near 
the borders of the lakes, or hard, cold, impermeable when 
it is mixed with clay or muddy alluvium, as in some 
marshes underlaid by shales or clay, or along the banks of 
some rivers. Land continually covered with stagnant water 
can not produce any trees, because the trees require for 
their growth, like most of the terrestrial plants, the intro 
duction of atmospheric air to their roots. Neither do trees 
germinate and grow on a ground alternately covered with 
stagnant water and exposed to diyness for some months of the 
year. From these considerations, the law of the general for 
mation of prairies can be deduced. While a land or part of 
country is slowly passing from the state of swamp or marsh 
to the state of dry land, the annual alternation of stagnant 
water and dryness causes vegetation of peculiar plants, 
which, by their decomposition, form a peculiar soil unfa 
vorable to the growth of the trees. From this general rule 
of formation, which regards only the prairies of the Missis 
sippi valley, all the different phenomena or peculiar appear 
ances of the prairies can be easily explained. 


CORRESPONDENT sends us a list of the 
first regular emigration to California of 1841, 
and we are assured it is the fullest which has 
yet appeared in print. This enterprise occa 
sioned at the time much excitement on the 
Missouri frontiers, and accounts of it were published in 
several of the Western journals, as it was then considered 
a great undertaking to cross the Rocky Mountains and 
explore a new road through the snowy ranges and howling 
deserts south of the Columbia, the only well-ascertained 
points being the Great Salt Lake and the mystical St. 
Mary s, now Humboldt River, so called afterward by Fre- 


mont. An interesting sketch of this 1841 adventure ap 
peared a few months after in Chambers s Edinburgh Maga 
zine, which seems to have been written by some one well 
acquainted with all the particulars, and who foretold the 
effects on the future prospects of California. At the period 
of these important events, the Western people were much 
excited by the different works written by Dr. Gregg on 
New Mexico, and AVashirigton Irving on the explorations 
and tradings of Astor s fur trappers, and on those of Capt. 
Bonneville in the Rocky Mountains, the results of which 
were this emigration to California, and several months after 
that, to Oregon, and also from Texas to Santa Fe. Our cor 
respondent says : I have just received the following infor 
mation from Albert G. Toomes, now of Tehama, who 
formerly lived at Monterey, and is well known in that 
town, where he resided from 1842 to 1851 : 

I sat down with my old partner Thomas a few days ago 
and got talking of old times in California, and all that sort 
of thing. It occurred to us to make a list of our ancient 
companions in the hard journey we made from Independ 
ence a long twenty-seven years ago, and, Sandy, our hairs 
are getting gray, and we often remember those blessed old 
bailies and mer landers of gay Monterey. I claim that we 
were the first regular emigrants who ever started from the 
States to California, as those who arrived in the country 
before us, dropped in by mere chance, as old trappers, 
whalemen, and sailors from the islands and Boston ships. 
Our party was divided into two companies, who left Inde 
pendence on the 6th of May, 1841, and we got into Califor 
nia on the 10th November of the same year. The first com 
pany was headed by Robert H. Thomes, who crossed over 
by the way of Salt Lake, and the second was headed by 
William AVorkman, who went by the way of Santa Fe and 
the middle route to Los Angeles ; and both got into the 
country at nearly the same time. 

We were all armed with rifles, and mounted on horse 
back, and had literally to smell our way every day of that 
long, hard journey of 176 days ; but we arrived all safe and 
hearty, and nearly every one of the immigrants mentioned 


haye either died in the State or still reside here. But 
I never want to cross those hard deserts and big mountains 
again, except on the railroad, and you bet I shall run over 
to old Pike on the 4th of July, 1870-car, or mayhap on 
those of 1869, as I hate salt-water sailing. I have men 
tioned in subjoined lists those of many "foreigners," then 
so called, who lived in California before my time, but 
several have escaped me, as I have never seen a proper list 
of the names of the first immigration. You know, when 
Thomes and self got our ranchos up here from Micheltereno 
and Jimena, this place was out of the world, and league 
farms to be had for the asking, but it is quite different now. 
The Indians, once so numerous, are all gone, and the rail 
cars will soon rush by our doors, and land is worth $20 per 
acre. That house we built in Monterey for Governor 
Jimena in 1845, was one of the best jobs we ever did in 
our lives, for the old gentleman not only paid us well, but 
got us our farms without any of the trouble others had. 
Here is the list of our old friends : 

Pioneer Companies by the Overland route of the Mary s, 
Ogden or Humboldt River, in 1841. In company No. 1 
Robert H. Thomes, now of Tehama ; Mr. Bartlett, Joseph 
Childs, Maj. Rickman, Talbot H. Greene, Josiah Belden of 
San Jose ; Charles Webber of Stockton ; Henry Hubert, 
John Bidwell of Chico ; Charles Flugge, Mr. Barnet, Mr. 
Brolasky, Charles Hopper, Grove Cook, Benjamin Kelsey, 
Andrew Kelsey, Mr. Kelsey, all of Sonoma ; Mr. Henshaw, 
James McMahon, Nelson McMahon, Mr. Patten, Mr. Daw- 
son and brother, Mr. Chandler, Michael Nye, Mr. Walton, 
Mr. Swartz, Mr. Jones, James Littlejohn. 

In company No. 2, of 1841. William Workman, John 
Roland and Benito D. Wilson of Los Angeles, Albert G. 
Toomes of Tehama, William Knight, William Gordon, 
William Moore, Isaac Given, Frank Given, Mr. Pickman, 
Frederick Bachelor, Mr. Teabo, Frenchman, Wade Hamp 
ton, Dr. Meade, Dr. Gamble, Hiram Taylor, Mr. Lindsay, 
Col. McClure. 

There were three or four others in these two companies 
whose names I have now forgotten, and many on the list 


are still living in the State. We suffered great hardships, 
and got into very tight pinches for food and water, "but we 
made up for it when we got among the fat beef and venison 
of California. 

In the company which came across in 1843 were Maj. P. 
B. Heading, Maj. S. J. Hensley of San Jose, Maj. Jacob K. 
Snyder of Sonoma, Wra. Blackburn of Santa Cruz, James 
and John Williams, Isaac Williams of Los Angeles, and two 
others whose names I have forgotten. This company 
crossed over the Pitt River Mountains and came down the 
Sacramento valley to Suiter s Fort, and their history is 
better known than ours. 

When I arrived on the coast, in 1841, I found living in 
different parts of the country the following old American 
and foreign settlers : 

In Los Angeles. John Temple, Abel Stearnes, William 
Carpenter, Richard Lochlin, Mr. Vignes, William Wolf- 
skill, John J. Warner, Mr. Williams, and Stewart and Sam, 
two American colored men ; and really it was a good thing 
to see a darkey once more, as in old Missouri. 

At Monterey. Thomas O. Larkin, David Spence, John 
B. R. Cooper, James Watson, William E. Hartnell, George 
Kinlock and wife, George Allen, James Stokes, William 
Watts, Earnest Romio from Germany, William Foxson, 
Mr. McVicker, William E. Garney, James Meadows and 
James McKinley. 

At Santa Cruz. Isaac Graham, Henry Nail, Job F. Dye, 
now of Idaho; William G. Chard, Jacob Majors, Peter 
Lassen, John Sinclair, Mr. Dickey, and several others I 
have now forgotten. 

At Yerba Buena or San Francisco. Mr. Ray and wife, 
of the Hudson Bay Company ; Hickley & Spear, merchants ; 
Teal & Titcomb, merchants ; Sherreback & Voiget, of the 

hotel ; William H. Davis and Daniel Sill ; Davis, 

blacksmith; Andrews, carpenter; Robert Ridley, 

John Coppinger, Eliab Grimes and Mr. Johnson. 

At San Barbara. Daniel E. Hill, Lewis Burton, Ziba F. 
Branch, Isaac Sparks, A. B. Thompson, Thomas Robins, 
Nicholas A. Den and Alfred Robinson. 


At San Diego. William Shocks. 

At Sonoma and the Bay. Jacob P. Leese, Victor Prud- 
liom and George Yount of Napa. 

W. D. M. Howard and Joseph P. Thompson of San 
Francisco, I believe, were after my arrival one or two 
years. Besides, these were W. A. Richardson of Saucelito, 
John Gilroy and David Littlejohn, who had lived in the 
country many years, and our well known old friend Capt. 
John A. Sutter. F. Bulletin, July 27, 1868. 


THE following piece of " composition " may be " "backed " 
against any thing ever produced. It was written half a cen 
tury ago, by Sir Boyle Roche, a member of the Irish Par 
liament, in the troublous times of "Ninety-eight," when a 
handful of men, from the county of Wexford, struck terror 
into the hearts of many a gallant son of Mars, as well as 
the worthy writer himself. 

"My DEAR SIR: Having now a little peace and quiet 
ness, I sit down to inform you of the dreadful bustle and 
confusion we are all in from these bloodthirsty rebels, 
most of whom are thank God ! killed and dispersed. 
We are in a pretty mess, can get nothing to eat, nor any 
wine to drink, except whisky ; and when we sit down to 
dinner, we are obliged to keep both hands armed. While 
I write this, I hold a sword in each hand, and a pistol in 
the other. 

" I concluded from the beginning that this would be the 
end of it, and I see I was right, for it is not half over yet. 
At present there are such goings-on, that every thing is at a 
stand- still. I should have answered your letter a fortnight 
ago ; but I did not receive it until this morning. Indeed, 
scarcely a mail arrives safe without being robbed. No 
longer ago than yesterday, the coach with the mails from 
Dublin, was robbed near this town. The bags had been 
judiciously left behind, for fear of accident ; and by good 


luck there was nobody in it but two outside passengers, 
who had nothing for the thieves to take. Last Thursday 
notice was given that a gang of rebels was advancing 
under the French standard, but they had no colors, nor 
any drums except bagpipes. 

" Immediately every man in the place, including women 
and children, ran out to meet them. We soon found our 
force much too little ; we were too near to think of retreat 
ing. Death was in every face, but to it we went, and by 
the time half of our little party were killed, we began to be 
all alive again. Fortunately, the rebels had no guns, ex 
cept pistols and pikes, and as we had plenty of muskets 
and ammunition, we put them all to the sword. Not a soul 
of them escaped, except some that were drowned in an 
adjacent bog ; and in a very short time notliing was heard 
but silence. Their uniforms were all different colors, but 
mostly green. Alter the action we went to rummage a sort 
of camp, which they had left behind them. All we found 
was a few pikes without heads, a parcel of empty bottles 
full of water, and a bundle of French commissions filled 
with Irish names. Troops are now stationed all round the 
country, which exactly squares with my ideas. I have 
only time to add, that I am in great haste. 

" P. S. If you do not receive this, of course it must have 
miscarried, therefore you must write to let me know !" 
Harper* s Magazine. 


HE following able essay, by Professor C. T. 
Leonard, teacher of mathematics in the Boys 
High School of this city, was read before the 
State Teachers Institute, in this city, and is 
now published by request. 


The subject I have chosen as the basis of my remarks is 


mathematics a subject which comprehends one of the most 
extensive and important departments of human knowledge. 
By most people it is considered also as one of the most diffi 
cult departments ; and it is much to be regretted that many, 
with time and talents equal to the task, are deterred from 
entering upon a study which would amply repay the 
expenditure of both, by this mistaken prejudice. Every 
science, no doubt, has its hard and knotty points ; and in no 
intellectual pursuit can distinction be attained without labor, 
thought, and perseverance. Yet, if there be one subject of 
scientific inquiry which, more than any other, is distin 
guished by the simplicity, certainty, and obviousness of its 
fundamental principles by the irresistible evidence by 
which position after position is established, and by the 
systematic gradations by which layer after layer of the in 
tellectual structure is completed that subject is pre-emi 
nently mathematics. In other topics of research there is 
generally more or less of hypothesis or conjecture ; there 
are obscure recesses into which the light of truth and dem 
onstration can not penetrate, and where fancy and imagi 
nation are sometimes permitted to guide our steps. But 
there are no perplexities of this kind in mathematics, no 
ingenious theories to mislead, and no conflicting opinions to 
bewilder. Our progress here is exclusively under the un 
erring direction of Truth herself ; and it is her torch alone 
that lights up our path. 

Whether we consider the subject of mathematics in refer 
ence to its practical utility, in its application to most of the 
arts, or as a powerful, and the only adequate instrument of 
investigation in the study of several classes of physical 
phenomena, or as an efficient instrument of intellectual cul 
ture, or merely in reference to the numerous and striking 
abstract truths which it makes known, it must, without 
hesitation, be admitted to be worthy of a prominent place 
in every course of liberal education. Mathematical science 
investigates the various relations of measurable quantity, 
as space, time, force, motion, and velocity. Our knowledge 
of the objects of mathematics is obtained from experience, 
and its axiomatic principles are necessarily involved in our 


conceptions of these objects. Although the definitions of 
many of these are not necessarily confined to a single prop 
erty, still, every definition must express some characteristic 
property, and it can not, therefore, be arbitrary. Theoreti 
cal geometry treats of the properties of magnitudes, and 
practical geometry of their construction. 

There are three kinds of magnitudes of one, two, and 
three dimensions respectively as lines, surfaces, and solids. 
Our conceptions of magnitude and of space generally, are 
arrived at by first acquiring a knowledge of a body by expe 
rience, and by a subsequent process of abstraction. If we 
abstract from any body all the properties of the matter com 
posing it, as its hardness, color, weight, and so on, and re 
tain merely its quality of extension in three dimensions of 
length, breadth, and thickness, we have then a strict con 
ception of a geometrical solid, which possesses none of the 
properties of matter except extension, and can not therefore 
possess a material existence. It is a different object from 
the space which it occupies ; for, in any limited portion of 
space, an indefinite number of such solids may exist, the 
one encompassing the other. Abstract now from any solid 
its thickness, and we then form the conception of a surface 
having only length and breadth. And if from a surface one 
of its dimensions be abstracted, as its breadth, we have then 
the idea of a line, which possesses only length. The intersec 
tion of two such lines is a point, which only marks position, 
and has neither length, breadth, or thickness. It has been 
objected to this view of a mathematical point, that as it has 
no magnitude, it can have no existence. It has certainly no 
material existence, but its existence is no less real on that ac 
count. Even a line or a surface occupies no portion of space. 
No number of points, however great, can fill any assignable 
portion of space, however small. And it has been remarked, 
that even a solid does not occupy exclusively any portion 
of space. They would exist independently of matter, but 
their existence is no less positive, though immaterial. 

A system of geometry proceeds from simple, axiomatic, 
and incontrovertible principles, to the demonstration of 
new truths ; and from the combination of truths previously 



known, new truths are continually evolved, and thus a 
system of geometrical science is established by a continued 
process of logical deduction. Some of the elementary truths 
in geometry are so obvious as to be almost self-evident ; 
but many of them are of a different character, and are strik 
ing, and even beautiful, at least when the mind is habit 
uated to contemplate abstract truth. Several propositions 
are, in some of their cases, axiomatic, but in other cases they 
require to be demonstrated. Without this distinction the 
demonstrations of certain propositions would appear to be 
unnecessary ; and in such instances they are perhaps more 
useful in completely obviating objections than in producing 

As regards the utility of the mathematics, it must be ad 
mitted that our knowledge has been greatly extended by its 
means. Independently of the innumerable important and 
striking properties of magnitudes and relations of abstract 
quantities that it has made known, and which can be suffi 
ciently appreciated only by the mathematician, it has un 
folded a very extensive range of natural phenomena. It 
has investigated the principles of theoretical mechanics ; 
the laws of the equilibrium and motion of fluids, fixed and 
elastic ; the principles of optics or the science of vision, of 
electricity and of magnetism ; the theory of the propagation 
of sound and of light, and a variety of other subjects. But 
even the most abstruse branches, that appear to be incapa 
ble of any useful application, ought not to be neglected ; 
for they may be applied at some future period, like the 
ancient doctrine of the conic sections, which for twenty cen 
turies was an object of mere curious speculation, till it be 
came, in the hands of Newton, an efficient means of unfold 
ing the planetary motions. Without the aid of rules derived 
from mathematical science, the navigator, relying only on 
his compass as a guide, could not with safety venture to any 
considerable distance on his element, intercourse with trans 
marine nations would be impossible ; and, consequently, 
our knowledge of the globe which we inhabit would be 
very limited. We should probably still believe that its 
surface is an extended plane, and that it is supported on 


pillars ; or, as was the opinion of some of the ancient phil 
osophers, that its figure is cylindrical, like a drum. With 
out the aid of this science, our knowledge of celestial objects 
would be still more imperfect, and the consequence of our 
ignorance still more striking. We should still believe that 
these objects are equally distant from us, and, very prob 
ably, that they are distributed on the surface of an exten 
sive crystalline sphere, performing a diurnal rotation about 
the earth, as the center of the universe. We should also 
believe that some celestial phenomena, as eclipses and com 
ets, are signs of the conflict of the elements of nature, or 
that they are portents of the wrath of Heaven, while con 
templating to inflict on man some dire calamity, such as 
war, famine, or pestilence. How different from these unsat 
isfactory and incoherent conjectures is that great achieve 
ment of this science the clear and satisfactory exposition, 
on the most incontrovertible principles, of the complex, 
though sublime and systematic mechanism of the heavens, 
by which the distances and magnitudes of the sun and 
planets have been measured, and also their weights, and 
even those of their satellites, ascertained, and by which the 
masses and distances of some of the stars or suns of other 
systems, though inconceivably remote, even in comparison 
witli the great extent of our own system, will probably ere 
long be determined. The practical utility of mathematics 
is so well known and so universally admitted, that on this 
topic it will not be necessary to make many remarks. Let 
it suffice to call to mind that from its principles the rules 
of calculation and measurement are derived. It supplies 
the art of measuring distances, heights, surfaces, and solids, 
in artificers work, gauging, land and marine surveying; 
it furnishes the principles of calculation in navigation, nau 
tical and practical astronomy, of the arts of the optician and 
the machinist, and also of the arts of carpentry and engi 
neering, both civil and military. On its deductions also 
depend the arts of planning, perspective, and of the con 
struction of maps and charts. In short, wherever the con 
struction of figures or computation is in requisition, the 
principles of mathematics are indispensable. Let us take a 


brief view of mathematics as an instrument of mental im 
provement, as this is the aspect, perhaps, in which as edu 
cators it merits our most serious consideration. It may be 
safely affirmed that mathematics, as an instrument of intel 
lectual improvement, cultivates chiefly the reasoning faculty. 

It also exercises the memory in a considerable degree ; 
and it has a powerful tendency to form a habit of undivided 
and unremitting attention, which is indispensable for suc 
cess in any pursuit. Every branch in the theory of the sci 
ence consists almost entirely of an uninterrupted process of 
reasoning ; and as this process is identical in every subject, 
whether of necessary or contingent truth, no other study can 
be more conducive to the improvement of this faculty. A 
step of reasoning or a syllogism, consists of a major and a 
minor proposition, and a conclusion ; and by a law of our 
mental constitution, whether it be called judgment or the 
faculty of relative suggestion, the conclusion follows as a 
necessary consequence from these premises, in reasoning in 
any subject as well as in mathematics ; so that reasoning is 
exactly of the same nature in this investigation both of 
necessary and contingent truth with this difference, that 
in the former the chain of sequence is of almost indefinite 
extent, while in the latter it is generally brief. There is, 
however, a difference in the fundamental principles. The 
premises in the former are incontrovertible, at least in pure 
mathematics, and generally in the other branches of the 

Whereas, in subjects of contingent matter, the premises 
are usually only probable, and the probability of the con 
clusion must therefore be commensurate with that of the 
premises. Synthetic geometry, or the ordinary didactic 
method, affords, in the gradual exposition of geometrical 
truth, excellent specimens of the most clear and satisfactory 
reasoning ; and that branch of it called geometrical analysis, 
furnishes, in addition, examples of the resolution of truth 
into its simple elementary principles. But analytical geom 
etry and the other analytical branches of the science, supply 
the best examples of the resolution of complex questions a 
process which must be effected before the conditions can be 


comprised in symbolical expressions. They also accustom the 
mind to comprehensive views, and afford excellent specimens 
of subtle reasoning, and exercise the mind in the interpreta 
tion of the expression of final results. In these branches, a 
subordinate acquirement, made at the expense of much per 
severance, is necessary, namely : the power of managing skill 
fully the concise but comprehensive algorithm employed in 
its researches, of which, however, that part of the operations 
that may be considered to be in some measure mechanical, 
will sometimes interrupt the chain of reasoning, though in 
the theory the time thus spent by an expert analyst is com 
paratively short. The application of the principles of the 
science to physical subjects, affords, in addition to the pre 
ceding kinds of intellectual exercise, examples of premises 
resting on probable evidence, and requires habits of close 
reflection and accurate observation, and, also , furnishes the 
finest specimens to be found in the whole range of human 
knowledge of the methods of philosophical research, both 
inductive and deductive. In straining the mind to such re 
searches it affords peculiar advantages, for although it is a 
subject of contingent matter, the rigorous nature of investi 
gation operates as a salutary check against those fantastic 
speculations that result from the unrestrained excursions of 
the imaginative faculty, which in original researches in other 
subjects, frequently produce extravagant theories ; and 
which, from the unsettled state of the principles, may, with 
a little ingenuity, be made very plausible ; whereas any 
such theory in physics would be certain to meet with 
speedy and complete refutation. A knowledge of the math 
ematics and of the methods employed in investigating the 
necessary truths embodied in them is not inconsistent with a 
knowledge of the nature of moral evidence. An exclusive 
attention to any department of study may, to some extent, 
disqualify the mind for appreciating truth in other depart 
ments. If the mere mathematician can not appreciate minute 
degrees of moral evidence, neither can the mere student of 
probable truth appreciate the necessity of scientific rigor in 
mathematical science. Both might commit serious blunders 
in the department to which they are strangers, and the lat- 


ter, if exclusively acquainted with those branches in which 
the premises are exceedingly doubtful, might from the con 
stant and bewildering uncertainty of his own conclusions, 
be liable to adopt a theory of universal skepticism. It is a 
truth readily assented to even by a mathematician that of two 
contradictory propositions, that for which there is a prepon 
derance of evidence, ought to be believed in preference to the 
other, although the amount of evidence fall far short of 
demonstration. A step of reasoning in mathematics is clear 
and satisfactory when once perceived, which is also the case 
in other subjects ; for in them the vagueness or unsatisfacto- 
riness accompanying any discussion properly conducted, 
originates not in the reasoning, but in the uncertainty, and 
sometimes in the multiplicity of the principles involved. A 
distinction, however, must be made between difficulty and 
uncertainty, for they are not necessarily connected, at least 
if difficulty be estimated by the degree of exercise required 
of the higher faculties. The converse of this, however, that is, 
the union of difficulty with certainty of principles, is con 
stantly experienced by the mathematician ; for such is the 
complexity arising from the multiplicity of the principles 
involved in some subjects, that, notwithstanding the cer 
tainty of its principles, and the perfection of its language, 
and the almost magical power of the higher calculus, they 
have baffled the most resolute efforts of the most able and 
vigorous minds ; and had its language been less perfect, 
there are many subjects already thoroughly investigated, 
the difficulties of which would have been insurmountable. 
It is an undoubted fact, that many men of reflecting minds 
have been addicted to the study of mathematics, which 
proves that there is an adaptation between it and minds of 
this complexion, or that it is fitted to afford their powers 
sufficient exercise. Many celebrated mathematicians, too, 
have been very eminent for their acquirements in general 
knowledge ; in proof of which it is merely necessary to men 
tion the names of Eratosthenes, of almost universal attain 
ments ; the learned Beda, the eloquent Pascal ; Ramus, of 
uncommon acuteness and eloquence ; Descartes, Leibnitz, 
Condorcet, D Alembert, Dr. Clarke, Bishop Horseley, the 


learned Barrow, Play fair, and the all but universal Young, 
and the superior talents of many mathematicians, not so dis 
tinguished for varied attainments, is undeniable, as of New 
ton, Maclaurin, La Grange, Laplace, and many others. 

There is one American name, the name of a living writer, 
who deserves to be classed with the great names just enu 
merated one whose work, the Philosophy of Mathemat 
ics," claims the admiration of every votary of the exact sci 
ences, and which is destined to hnd its way into every first 
class teacher s library in the land. I refer to Prof. Bledsoe. 
In the science of mathematics there is also great scope for 
the exercise of taste ; for since taste consists in the judi 
cious selection of the fittest and most agreeable and most 
efficient means to accomplish an end, there must be an op 
portunity for its exercise in the discussion of scientific as 
well as of literary subjects ; and the qualities of unity, clear 
ness, force and elegance, thus belong to scientific as well as 
to literary composition. Mathematics, it is true, can not af 
ford information respecting the principles of other subjects, 
no more than natural philosophy or chemistry ; but it pos 
sesses this peculiar advantage, that every branch of science 
tends rapidly toward a state of perfection in proportion as 
it admits of mathematical investigation. Since the science of 
theoretical mathematics consists almost entirely of a contin 
ued chain of reasoning, it affords in a given period of study, 
many more examples of this process than any other subject. 

A mind, therefore, disciplined by this invigorating pur 
suit, and also improved by the study of other branches, will 
certainly be the best qualified for investigating either neces 
sary or contingent truth. 

The student of mathematics, says Dr. Whewell, is accus 
tomed to a chain of deduction, where each link hangs upon 
the preceding, and thus he learns continuity of attention 
and coherency of thought. His notice is steadily fixed 
upon those circumstances only in the subject in which the 
demonstrativeness depends, and thus that mixture of various 
grounds of conviction, which is so common in other men s 
minds, is rigorously excluded from his. He knows that all 
depends upon his first principles, and flows inevitably from 



them, that however far he may have traveled, he can at will 
go over any portion of his path and satisfy himself that it is 
legitimate ; and thus he acquires a just persuasion of the 
inmortance of principles on the one hand, and on the other 
of the necessary and constant identity of the conclusions le 
gitimately deduced from them. Mr. President, and ye other 
co-workers in the cause of education, whether the scene of 
your labors be in a splendid structure erected by the liber 
ality of a great metropolis, like that in which we are assem 
bled, or in a far less imposing edifice in some secluded val 
ley, or on the slope of some lofty hill- side, whose crust but 
half conceals the mineral treasures beneath wherever loca 
ted you will be advocating the cause of educational prog 
ress, and true mental acumen, and great intellectual 
strength, while advocating the study of mathematics as ex 
tensively as may be into the people s colleges the free pub 
lic schools of this city and of this State. I have treated very 
imperfectly the general question, but I have no doubt that 
in this institute will be found many able teachers ready to 
express their views and discuss this subject in detail. Some 
are here, I know, who have tested, with very flattering re 
sults, the introduction of the study of elementary geometry 
in a class of very young pupils, and I can bear testimony to 
the progress made and the thorough apprehension of princi 
ples. Do not, therefore, fellow teachers, say there is no 
time or room in the course ; if you desire to educate thor 
oughly, you must fix the attention of your pupils, and de 
velop early in them that reasoning power they need to use 
so extensively during the whole period of their education. 
You can do this best by a timely and judicious use of math 
ematics. & F. Times, June 20, 1868. 


A LADY of San Francisco is said to have occupied several 
years in hunting up and fitting together the following thirty- 
eight lines from thirty-eight English poets. The names 
of the authors are given below each line : 



Why all this toil for triumph of an hour ? 

Life s a short summer, man a flower ; 

Dr. Johnson. 
By turn we catch the vital breath and die 

The cradle and the tomb, alas ! so nigh. 

To be is far better than not to be, 

Though all man s life may seem a tragedy ; 

But light cares speak when mighty griefs are dumb. 

The bottom is but shallow whence they come ; 

Your fate is but the common fate of all ; 

Unmingled joys, here, no man befall. 

Nature to each allots his proper sphere, 

Fortune makes folly her peculiar care ; 

Custom does not often reason overrule. 

And throw a cruel sunshine on a fool. 

Live well, how long or short, permit to heaven ; 

They who forgive most shall be most forgiven. 

Sin may be clasped so close we can not see its face ; 

"; ; Trench. 
Vile intercourse where virtue has not place ; 

Then keep each passion down, however dear, 






Thou pendulum, betwixt a smile and tear ; 

Her sensual snares let faithless Pleasures lay, 

With craft and skill to ruin and betray, 

Soar not too high to fall, but stoop to rise, 

We masters grow of all that we despise. 

O, then, renounce that impious self-esteem, 

Riches have wings and grandeur is a dream. 

Think not ambition wise because tis brave, 

The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 

What is ambition ? tis a glorious cheat, 

Only destructive to the brave and great. 

What s all the gaudy glitter of a crown ? 


The way to bliss lies not on beds of down. 

How long we live, not years, but actions tell ; 

That man lives twice who lives the first life well. 

Make then, while yet ye may, your God your friend, 

Whom Christians worship, yet not comprehend, 

The trust that s given guard, and to yourself be just; 

For, live we how we can, yet die we must. 




HERE is a queer old rhyme which is quite contrary in 
sense, as you read it across, running the lines together : 
I always did intend, To take to me a wife, 

Single my life to spend, Would grieve my very life, 
It much delighteth me, To think upon a bride, 
To live from woman free, I can t be satisfied, 
The female to my mind, The joy I can t express 
I ne er expect to find, So great in singleness, 
A bachelor to live, I never could agree, 

My mind I freely give, A married man to be. 


MOST people believe the following lines should be read 
as they are printed ; but a crusty old bachelor reads the 
first and third, and second and fourth, lines together : 

The man must lead a happy life 
Who is directed by his wife ; 
Who s free from matrimonial chains, 
Is sure to suffer for his pains. 

Adam could find no real peace 

Until he saw a woman s face ; 

When Eve was given for a mate, 

Adam was in a happy state. 

In all the female heart appear 
Truth, darling of a heart sincere, 
Hypocrisy, deceit and pride, 
Ne er known in woman to reside. 

What tongue is able to unfold 
The worth in woman we behold ? 
The falsehoods that in woman dwell 
Is almost imperceptible. 

Hanged be the foolish man, I say, 
Who will not yield to woman s sway ! 
Who changes from his singleness, 
Is sure of perfect blessedness. 



[THE following is one of the most remarkable composi 
tions ever published. It evinces an ingenuity of arrange 
ment such as we have never seen before. Explanation : 
The initial capitals spell, " My boast is in the glorious Cross 
of Christ." The words in italics, when read from top to 
bottom and from bottom to top, form the Lord s Prayer 
complete :] 

Make known the gospel truths, our Father, King, 

Yield us Thy grace, dear Father, from above ; 
Bless us with hearts which feelingly can sing, 

" Our life Thou art for ever, God of Love !" 
Assuage our grief in love, for Christ we pray, 

Since the bright Prince of Heaven and glory died, 
Took all our sins and hallowed the display, 

Infant be ing, first a man, and then was crucified. 
Stupendous God ! TJiy grace and power make known, 

In Jesus name let all the world rejoice ; 
New labors in Thy heavenly kingdom own 

That blessed kingdom for thy saints the choice. 
How vile to come to Thee is all our cry, 

Enemies to Thy self and all that Thine, 
Graceless our will, we live for vanity, 

Loathing thy very be ing evil in design. 
O God ! Thy will be done from earth to Heaven, 

Reclining on the gospel let us live, 
In earth from sin deliver ed and forgiven. 

Oh ! as Thyself but teach us to forgive ! 
Unless it s power temptation doth destroy, 

Sure is our fall into the depths of AVOC 
Carnal in mind, we ve not a glimpse of joy 

Raised against Heaven ; in us no hope can flow. 
Oh ! give us grace and lead us on Thy way ; 

Shine on its with Thy love, and give us peace ; 
Self and this sin that rise against us slay ; 

Oh ! grant each day our trespass es may cease. 
Forgive our evil deeds that oft we do, 

Convince us daily of them to our shame ; 


Help us with heavenly bread, forgive us, too, 
Recurrent lusts, and we ll adore Thy name ; 

In Thy forgive ness we as saints can die, 
Since for us and our tres%)asses so high, 

Thy Son, our Saviour, bled on Calvary. 


AN English poet gives us the following poem, containing 
only one vowel : 

" No monk too good to rob, or cog, or plot, 
No fool so gross to bolt Scotch collop hot, 
From Donjon tops no Oronock rolls, 
Logwood, not Lotos, floods Oporto s bowl. 
Troops of old tosspots oft to sot consort, 
Box tops school-boys, do flog for sport. 
No cool monsoon blows oft on Oxford dons, 
Orthodox jog-trot, book-worm Solomon ! 
Bold Ostrogoths of ghosts no horror show, 
On London shop front no hop-blossoms grow, 
To crooks of gold no dodo looks for food, 
On soft cloth foot-stool no fox doth brood, 
Long storm-tost sloops forlorn do work to port, 
Rooks do not roost on spoons, nor woodcocks snort, 
Nor dog on snow-drops or on coltsfoot roll, 
Nor common frogs concoct long protocols." 



&HE English language, perhaps more than any 
other, is capable of queer and ingenious uses, 
misuses, transformations and combinations. 
The student of the curiosities of literature is 
astonished at its wonderful susceptibility to 
odd pranks in the way of orthography, syntax, 
prosody, pronunciation, rhyme and translation. Some 
curious effects are sometimes produced by an ingenious 


arrangement of pronunciation. A device lias often been 
used in political and other partisan songs called "echo 
verses," in which the sounds of the last words of a line 
are repeated after the manner of an echo, the whole being 
so contrived as to express some significant meaning. This, 
though a short specimen, is a good illustration : 

" What are they who pay three guineas 
To hear a tune of Paganini s ? 

(Echo) Pack o ninnies !" 



OF course the whole innumerable host of puns bad and 
good which are floating about in books and newspapers, as 
well as in social circles, are all predicated upon similarities 
in pronunciation. A pun that has in it a sharp and witty 
meaning is a good thing ; but the immense deal of trash 
and of far-fetched constructions that are put in circulation 
by laborers after the pun, which is worth nothing if it is 
not spontaneous, has given this kind of literature a bad 
reputation, so that few good authors will use it. The simil 
arity of sound has given rise to such senseless productions 
as the following, which may be queer, but are certainly not 
witty : 

" Mr. Popp, of Poppville, in Popp County, fancying him 
self to be very popular with his lady love, i popped the 
question to her under the poplar tree, when she referred 
him to her poppy, who, when asked for his consent, labor 
ing under the influence of ginger-pop, popped him out of 
the door to the tune of Pop goes the weasel. 

Or this: "You have no business to have any business 
with other people s business ; but mind your own business, 
and that is business enough." 

The following is given as a statement of fact which may 
possibly add something to its value : 

" There is a young man in the army who was born July 
4th, at 4 o clock p. M., at No. 44 at a street in this city, 
1814, a fourth child, has four names, enlisted in Company 
D, of the Fourth Battalion, Forty-fourth Regiment, fourth 


company, and on the 4th, day of September was appointed 
Fourth Corporal, and is now going forth to defend his 

Here is a traveler s report of a conversation with a back 
woodsman : 

" Whose house ?" "Mogs." " Of what built?" " Logs." 
"Any neighbors?" "Frogs." "What is the soil?" 
"Bogs." "The climate?" "Fogs." "Your diet?" 
" Hogs." " How do you catch them ?" " Dogs." 

An original instance is given of answering two questions 
at one time : 

" Here, Biddy, my darlint, what s the time o night, and 
where s the pertaty pudding ? 

"It is eight, sir." 

Which may as well be followed by an account of a curi 
ous misunderstanding : 

" I come for the saw, sir," said an urchin. 

"What saucer?" 

" Why, the saw, sir, that you borrowed." 

" I borrowed no saucer." 

" Sure you did, sir borrowed our saw, sir." 

" Be off, never saw your saucer." 

" But you did, sir there s the saw, sir, now, sir." 

" Oh ! you want the saw f" 

Here is a Quaker toast that has a thought in it : 

" This is me and mine to thee and thine. I wish when 
thou and thine come to see me and mine, that we and mine 
will treat thee and thine as kindly as thee and thine have 
treated me and mine." 

This is a new version of the old compliment, which runs 
something after this wise : 

"I wish thee and thy folks loved me and my folks as 
well as me and my folks love thee and thy folks. For 
sure, there never was folks since folks was folks that ever 
loved folks half so well as me and my folks love thee and 
thy folks." 



POETS have been often greatly puzzled to find rhymes 
for particular words. It is said that there is no word in the 
English language which fairly rhymes with "step" or 
" month." Byron says that it is impossible to find a rhyme 
for the word " silver." Every little while some inquisitive 
genius proclaims that some particular word is without a 
rhyme, and challenges the world to disprove his assertion. 
Forthwith many people cudgel their brains, and sometimes 
do produce the desired word. Some years ago the Knicker 
bocker offered a brass quarter dollar to the person who 
could find a rhyme to the word " window." The prize was 
earned by the following effort, which furnishes the rhyme 
and has some fun in it as well : 

A cruel man a beetle caught, 
And to the wall him pinned, oh ! 
Then said the beetle to the crowd, 
Though I m stuck up, I am not proud," 
And his soul went out of the window. 

Somebody has challenged a rhyme for " carpet," and the 
following was the best production elicited, styled "Lines 
to a Pretty Barmaid " : 

Sweet maid of the inn, 

Tis surely no sin 
To toast such a beautiful bar pet. 

Believe me, my dear, 

Your feet would appear 
At home on a nobleman s carpet. 

A line ending with "harp it" also came near to the 
mark. A rhyme was found from Timbuctoo, as follows : 

I went a hunting on the plains, 

The plains of Timbuctoo ; 
I shot one buck for all my pains, 

And he was a slim buck too. 


And also for garden : 

Though Afric s lion be not here 

In showman s stoutly barr d den, 
An " Irish Lion " you may see 

At large in Winter Garden. 

Hood, in his humorous poems, either originated or 
adopted the idea of dividing words, at the end of a line for 
the sake of rhyme. The following which is floating about, 
is a specimen of that kind of composition : 

A year old to-day is little Molly 
Romping, noisy, fat and jolly ; 
Too young to walk, and like a polly- 
wog excited, she goes froli 
cking about the floor, and golly ! 
What a laugh ! 

Leonine verses are those in which the terminations rhyme 
with the central words. An inscription in the Chapter 
House of York Cathedral is a beautiful specimen of this : 

" Ut Rosa flos florum, sic est domus ista domorum." 


THE English language must appear fearfully and wonder 
fully made to a foreigner. One of them, looking at a pic 
ture of a number of vessels, said, " See, what a flock of 

He was told that a flock of ships was called a fleet, but 
that a fleet of sheep was called a flock. And it was added 
for his guidance in mastering the intricacies of our lan 
guage, that a flock of girls is called a bevy, but a bevy of 
wolves is called a pack, and a pact of thieves is called a 
gang, and a gang of angels is called a host, and a host of 
porpoises is called a shoal, and a shoal of buffaloes is 
called a herd, and a herd of children is called a covey, 
and a covey of beauties is called a galaxy, and a galaxy 
of ruffians is called a horde, and a horde of rubbish is 


called a heap, and a heap of oxen is called a drove, and 
a drove of blackguards is called a mob, and a mob of 
whales is called a school, and a school of worshipers is 
called a congregation, and a congregation of engineers is 
called a corps, and a corps of robbers is called a band, and 
a band of locusts is called a swarm, and a swarm of people 
is called a crowd, and a crowd of gentlefolks is called the 
elite, and the elite of the city s thieves and rascals are called 
the roughs, and the miscellaneous crowd of city folks is 
called the community or the public, according as they are 
spoken of by the religious community or secular public. 

Now, again, the Hudson River is fast w r hen the ice is im 
movable, and then the ice disappeared very fast, for it was 
loose. A clock is called fast when it is quicker than time ; 
but a man is told to stand fast when lie is desired to remain 
stationary. People fast when they have nothing to eat, and 
eat fast, consequently, when opportunity offers. 

A story is told of a German who attempted to court in 
English with the aid of a dictionary. Having obtained an 
interview with an English lady who, having recently lost 
her husband, must be open to new offers, he opened the 
business thus : 

" High-born madam, since your husband has kicked the 
bucket " 

" Sir !" interrupted the lady, astonished and displeased. 

" Oh, pardon nine, ten thousand pardon ! Now I make 
new beginning quite order beginning. Madam, since 
your husband have cut his stick " 

It may be supposed that this did not mend matters ; and 
reading as much in the lady s countenance, he said, perspir 
ing with shame at having a second time missed fire : 

"Madam, since your husband has gone to kingdom 

This he said beseechingly, but the lady was past propi 
tiation by this time, and rapidly moved toward the door. 
Taking a last hurried look at his dictionary, the German 
flew after the lady, crying out in a voice of despair : 

" Madam, since your husband, your most respected hus 
band, have hopped de twig " 


This was his sheet-anchor, and as this also " came home," 
of course the poor man was totally wrecked. It turned out 
that the dictionary he had used had put down the verb 
sterben (to die) with the following worshipful series of 
equivalents: 1. To kick the bucket, 2. To cut one s 
stick. 3. To go to kingdom come. 4. To hop the twig : to 
hop off the perch into Davy s locker. 

A French gentleman who was caressing a dog one day, 
remarked : "I love de dogs, de cats, de sheep, de pigs ; in 
short, any thing vat is beastly." 

Of course we make as funny mistakes in other languages 
if we only knew it. 

" Miss Blank, it is known, is accustomed to say 
Many very queer things in a very queer way ; 
But of all her mistakes, the absurdest and oddest, 
Occurred when she called French modiste modest." 


AN individual is told of as doing business in one of 
the markets, who is down on customers who don t 
speak properly. " What s eggs this morning ?" says a cus 
tomer. " Eggs, of course," says the dealer. " I mean, how 
do they go?" "Go where?" " Sho !" says the cus 
tomer, getting in a fury, "what for eggs?" "Money, 
money, sir! or good indorsed credit!" says the dealer. 
"Don t you understand the English language, sir?" says 
the customer. " Not as you mix it and mingle it, I don t," 
responded the egg merchant, " What is the price per 
dozen for your eggs ?" "Ah, now you talk," says 
the dealer. "Sixteen cents per dozen is the price, sir!" 
They traded. But it appears that another customer, who, 
on asking, "What s eggs this morning?" was answered, 
" Eggs, of course," responded : " Well, I am glad of that, 
for the last I got of you were half chickens." 

A Dutchman had two pigs a large one and a small one. 
The smallest being the oldest, he was trying to explain to a 
customer, and did it in this wise: "The little pig is the 
piggest." Upon which his vrow, assuming to correct him, 



said : " You will excuse him, lie no speak as good English 
as me he no means the little pig is the piggest, but te young 
little pig is te oldest." 

In a Dutch translation of Addison s Cato, the words, 
Plato, thou reasonest well, " are rendered : Just so, you 
are very right, Mynheer Plato." 

" The dear little things," said an old nurse of her mis 
tress s twin children ; "one looks so much like both, you 
can t tell t other from which !" 

The contradictions of pronunciation in the termination 
" ough," are amusingly displayed in the following lines : 

" Wife, make me some dumplings of dough ; 

They re better than meal for my cough ; 
Pray let them be boiled till hot through, 

But not till they re heavy or tough. 
Now I must be off to the plough, 

And the boys, when they ve had enough, 
Must keep the flies off with a bough, 

While the old mare drinks at the trough!" 

A report of a prize fight must be a very interesting thing 
for a foreigner to translate. A very simple report of a fight 
in which some "game" individual mounted the ladder of 
fame from the area of the prize ring by a certain number of 
"rounds," tells us that the combatants struck each other 
with the mawleys and bunches of fives upon the head, the 
nut, the cone, the conk, the canister, the noddle, the mug, 
the knowledge-box ; the nose, the sneezer, the snorer, the 
snuffer, the snuff-tray, the nozzle, the mazzard ; the eyes, 
the ogles, the optics, the peepers ; the mouth, the kisser, 
the whistler, the orator-trap ; drawing the blood, the claret, 
the ruby, the crimson, the home-brewed, the gravy ; and in 
several instances knocked the unfortunate knocker off his 
pins, his pegs, his stumps, and his foundation, to say noth 
ing of boring, fibbing, and sending him to grass. Who 
wants the belt ? 

So it must be interesting to a foreigner who relies on his 
dictionary, to hear the talk of "dead beats," "small pota 
toes few in a hill," bully boys," "big things," and things 


that one "can t see." The initials " O. K.," which mean 
"Oil Korrect," are at least twenty years old. 


LET us notice some of the ingenious things that can be 
done with the language. The repetition of the same class 
of rhymes is quite common, but the following epistles may 
be readable : 


Most worthy of estimation, after long consideration, 

And much meditation, of the great reputation, 

You possess my admiration, and if such oblavation 

Is worthy of observation, and can obtain consideration, 

It will be aggrandization beyond all calculation, 

To the joy and exultation 


I have perused your oration with much deliberation, 

And little consternation, at the great infatuation 

Of your weak imagination to show such veneration, 

On so slight a foundation ; but after examination 

And serious contemplation, I suppose your admiration 

Was the fruit of recreation, or had sprung from ostentation 

To display your education by odd enumeration, 

Or rather multiplication, of words of the same termination, 

Though of great variation in each respective signification. 

Not without disputation, your laborious application 

To so tedious an occupation, deserves commendation, 

And thinking imitation a sufficient gratification, 

I am, without hesitation, 


Palindromes, or lines that read the same backward and 
forward, are frequent in Latin or Greek, but it is quite dif 
ficult to construct them in English. The lawyer s motto, 
" Si nummi irtvrnunis" is a good specimen of a Latin one. 
The best in English is Adam s first observation to Eve, 
"Madam, I m Adam." The one by Taylor, the water poet, 
Lewd I did live & evil did I dwel," lacks completeness 
in two points. 


Here is a sentence of thirty-two words, which some inge 
nious child has constructed with just the letters found in 
the word maiden : " Ida, a maiden, a mean man named Ned 
Dean, and Media, a mad dame, made me mend a die and a 
dime, and mind a mine in a dim den in Maine." 

The following queer sentence originated, like many other 
odd things, in one of our monthly magazines : 

" Sator arepo tenet opera rotas." 

1. This spells "backward and forward all the same. 

2. Then, taking all the first letters of each word, spells 
the first word. 

3. Then taking all the second letters of each word, spells 
the second word. 

4. Then all the third, and so on through the fourth and 

5. Then, commencing with the last letter of each word, 
spells the last. 

6. Then the next to the last of each word, and so on 

Here is the way a grammarian conjugated the increasing 
heat : 

"Hot, hotter, hottest, hottentot, hottentoter, hottentotest, 
hottentotissimo, hottentotissimus, hot as an oven, hot as two 
ovens, hot as four ovens, hot as seven ovens hot." 

A gentleman who could not pronounce the letter R, was 
asked to read the following : 

" Robert gave Richard a rap in the ribs, 
For roasting the rabbit so rare." 

He evaded the difficulty in the folio wing ingenious manner : 

" Bobby gave Dickey a thump in the side, 
For cooking the bunny so little." 

We will close by relating a marvel in the way of logic 
done by Granger. He was a remarkably ugly man, but 
contended that he was the handsomest thing in the world. 
He proved it thus : " The handsomest part of the world," 
said he, "is Europe ; of Europe, France ; of France, Paris ; 


of Paris, the university ; of the university, the college of 

; in the college of , the handsomest room is mine ; 

in my room, I am the handsomest thing ; ergo, I am the 
handsomest thing in the world." N. Y. Evening Post. 


E have been favored by a gentleman, somewhat 
given to antiquarian researches, with a descrip 
tion of mining for gold, as it was carried on 
about a century before the birth of Christ, arid 
for a considerable time before, which, in all its 
essential features, precisely resembles the mode 
of working quartz mines now practiced in California. It will 
be observed that the principle upon which quartz is taken 
out of the earth, calcined, crushed with stamps and rollers, 
and also the manner of separating the gold from the pulverized 
rock, have undergone no change, the additional elements 
introduced being those of steam, of quicksilver, gunpowder, 
and the improvements in the manufacture of tools, which, 
have accompanied and form a part of modern civilization. 
The description is full of interest to California. It is ex 
tracted from the third book of the "Corpus Historicmn " 
of Diodorus Siculus, a Sicilian author, who flourished about 
threescore years before the beginning of the Christian era. 

" In the confines of Egypt, and the neighboring countries 
of Arabia and Ethiopia, there is a place full of rich gold 
mines, out of which, with much cost, and pains of many 
laborers, gold is dug. The soil here naturally is black, 
but in the body of the earth run many white veins, shining 
with white marble, and glistening with all sorts of other 
brig lit metals, out of which laborious mines those appointed 
overseers cause the gold to be dug up by the labor of a vast 
multitude of people. * * * * * * 

"The earth which is hardest and full of gold, they soften 
by putting fire under it, and then work it out with their 



hands. [Gunpowder had not been invented in those days, 
and the expedient adopted for working out the rock was a 
very excellent one.] The rocks thus softened and made 
more pliant and yielding, several thousands of profligate 
wretches [this scarcely applies to our miners] break into 
pieces with hammers and pickaxes. There is one artist that 
is the overseer of the whole work, who marks out the stone, 
and shows the laborers the way and manner how he would 
have it done. Those that are the strongest among them that 
are appointed to this slavery, provided with sharp iron 
pickaxes, cleave the marble- shining rock by mere force and 
strength, and not by any sleight of hand. They undermine 


not the rock in a direct line, but follow the bright shining 
vein of the mine. They carry lamps, fastened to their fore 
heads, to give them light, being otherways in perfect dark 
ness in the various windings and turnings wrought in the 
mine ; and having their bodie s appearing sometimes of one 
color and sometimes of another [according to the nature of 
the mine where they worked] ; they throw the lumps and 
pieces of the stone cut out of the rock upon the floor. And 
thus they are employed continually without intermission, at 
the very nod of the overseer or tax-master, who lashes them 


severely, besides. And there are little boys who attend upon 
the laborers in the mine, and, with great labor and toil, 
gather up the lumps and pieces hewed out of the rock as 
they are cast upon the ground, and carry them forth and lay 
them upon the bank. Those that are about thirty years of 
age take a piece of the rock of such a certain quantity, and 
pound it in a stone mortar with iron pestles, till it be as small 
as a vetch ; then those little stones so pounded are taken from 
them by women and older men, who cast them into mills, 
that stand together near, in a long row ; and two or three 
of them being employed at one mill, they grind it so long 
till it be as small as fine meal, according to the pattern 
given them. * * * * * At length, the masters of the 
work take the stone thus ground to po \vder, and carry it 
away in order to the perfecting of it. They spread the 
mineral so ground upon a broad board, somewhat hollow, 
and lying shelving, and pouring water upon it, rub it 
and cleanse it, and so all the earthy and drossy part 
being separated from the rest by the water, it runs 
off the board, and the gold, by reason of its weight, 
remains behind. Then, washing it several times again, 
they first rub it lightly with their hands ; afterwards 
they draw up the earthy and drossy matter with slender 
sponges, gently applied to the powdered dust, till it be clean 
pure gold. At last other workmen take it away by weight 
and measure, and these put it into earthen urns, and, 
according to the quality of gold in every urn, they mix 
with it some lead, grains of salt, a little tin, and barley 
bran. Then covering every pot close, and carefully daubing 
them over with clay, they put them in a furnace, where they 
abide five days and nights together ; then, after they have 
stood to cool a convenient time, nothing of the other matter 
is to be found in the pots, but only pure refined gold, some 
little diminished in the weight." 

The plan adopted for saving the fine gold, without the 
use of quicksilver, may have been a good one, but we 
imagine our California miners would make good wages out 
of their Ethiopic "tailings," provided the rock paid well 
at first S. F. Herald, 1857. 



SHE following remarkable poem was published 
in BlacJcwood 1 s Magazine. The vivid brilliancy 
of description, and the sensual richness of color 
which characterize the first half of the poem, 
are very fascinating, while the power of animal 
passion in the closing portions presents a singu 
lar psychological study : 

Here, Charmian, take my bracelets : 

They bar with a purple stain 
My arms. Turn over my pillows 

They are hot where I have lain. 
Open the lattice wider, 

A gauze on my bosom throw, 
And let me inhale the odors 

That over the garden flow. 

I dreamed I was with my Antony, 

And in his arms I lay ; 
Ah, me ! the vision has vanished 

Its music has died away. 
The flame and the perfume have perished 

As this spiced aromatic pastille 
That wound the blue smoke of its odor 

Is now but an ashy hill. 

Scatter upon me rose leaves, 

They cool me after my sleep, 
And with sandal odors fan me 

Till into my veins they creep; . 

Reach down the lute, and play me 

A melancholy tune, 
To rhyme with a dream that has vanished, 

And the slumbering afternoon. 

There, drowsing in golden sunlight, 

Loiters the low, smooth Nile, 
Through slender papyri, that cover 

The sleeping crocodile ; 


The lotus lolls on the water, 

And opens its heart of gold, 
And over its broad leaf-pavement 

Never a ripple is rolled. 
The twilight breeze is too lazy 

Those feathery plants to wave, 
And yon little cloud is as motionless 

As a stone above a grave. 

Ah, me ! this lifeless nature 
Oppresses my heart and brain ! 

Oh ! for a storm and thunder 
For lightning and wild, fierce rain ! 

Fling down that lute I hate it ! 
Take rather his buckler and sword, 

And crash them and clash them together, 


Till this sleeping world is stirred. 

Hark ! to my Indian beauty 

My cockatoo, creamy and white, 
With roses under his feathers 

That flashes across the light. 
Look ! listen ! as backward and forward 

To his hoop of gold he clings ; 
How he trembles, with crest uplifted, 

And he shrieks as he madly swings ! 
Oh, cockatoo, shriek for Antony ! 

Cry, " Come, my love, come home !" 
Shriek, " Antony ! Antony ! Antony !" 

Till he hears you even in Rome. 

There leave me, and take from my chamber 

That wretched little gazelle, 
With its bright, black eyes so meaningless, 

And its silly tinkling bell ! 
Take him my nerves he vexes 

The things without blood or brain, 
Or, by the body oflsis, 

I ll snap his thin neck in twain ! 


Leave me to gaze at the landscape 

Mistily stretching away, 
When the afternoon s opaline tremors 

O er the mountains quivering play; 
Till the fiercer splendor of sunset 

Pours from the west its fire, 
And melted, as in crucible, 

Their earthly forms expire ; 
And the bald, blear skull of the desert 

With glowing mountains is crowned, 
That, burning like molten jewels, 

Circle its temple round. 

I will lie and dream of the past time, 

JEons of thought away, 
And through the jungle of memory 

Loosen my fancy to play ; 
When, a smooth and velvety tiger, 

Ribbed with yellow and black, 
Supple and cushion-footed, 

I wandered, where never the track 
Of a human creature had rustled 

The silence of mighty woods, 
And fierce in a tyrannous freedom, 

I knew but the law of my moods. 
The elephant, trumpeting, started 

When he heard my footsteps near, 
And the spotted giraffes fled wildly 

In a yellow cloud of fear. 
I sucked in the noontide splendor, 

Quivering along the glade ; 
Or, yawning, panting, and dreaming, 

Basked in the tamarisk shade, 
Till I heard my wild mate roaring, 

As the shadows of night came on, 
To brood in the trees thick branches, 

Till the shadow of sleep was gone. 
Then I roused, and roared in answer, 

And unsheathed from my cushioned feet 
My curving claws, and stretched me, 

And wandered my mate to greet. 


We toyed in the amber moonlight, 

Upon the warm, fiat sand, 
And struck at each other our massive arms 

How powerful he was and grand ! 
His yellow eyes flashed fiercely 

As he crouched and gazed at me, 
And his quivering tail, like a serpent, 

Twitched, curving nervously; 
Then, like a storm, he seized me, 

With a wild, triumphant cry, 
And we met, as two clouds in heaven, 

When the thunders before them fly; 
We grappled and struggled together, 

For his love, like his rage, was rude ; 
And his teeth in the swelling folds of my neck . 

At times, in our play, drew blood. 

Often another suitor 

For I was flexile and fair 
Fought for me in the moonlight, 

While I lay crouching there, 
Till his blood was drained by the desert, 

And ruffled with triumph and power, 
He licked me and lay beside me 

To breathe him a vast half hour. 
Then, down to the fountain we loitered, 

Where the antelopes came to drink: 
Like a bolt we sprang upon them, 

Ere they had time to shrink; 
We drank their blood and crushed them, 

And tore them limb from limb, 
And the hungriest lion doubted 

Ere he disputed with him. 

That was a life to live for ! 

Not this weak human life, 
With its frivolous, bloodless passions, 

Its poor and petty strife ! 
Come to my arms, my hero, 

The shadows of twilight grow, 
And the tiger s ancient fierceness 

In my veins begins to flow. 



Come not cringing to sue me ! 

Take me with triumph and power, 
As a warrior that storms a fortress ! 

I will not shrink or cower. 
Come, as you came in the desert, 

Ere we were women and men, 
When the tiger passions were in us, 

And love as you loved me then ! 

Attributed to W. W. Story, 


PEOFESSOB AGASSIZ comes to the conclusion that the conti 
nent of North America was once covered with ice a mile in 
thickness, thereby agreeing with Professor Hitchcock, and 
other geological writers, concerning the glacial period. In 
proof of this conclusion, he says that the slope of the Alle- 
ghany range of mountains is glacier- worn to the very top, 
except a few points which were above the level of the icy 
mass. Mount Washington, for instance, is over six thousand 
feet high, and the rough, unpolished surface of the summit, 
covered with loose fragments, just below the level of which 
glacier marks come to an end, tells that it lifted its head 
above the desolate waste of ice and snow. In this region, 
then, the thickness of the ice can not have been much less 
than six thousand feet, and this is in keeping with the same 
kinds of evidence in other parts of the country, for when the 
mountains are much below six thousand feet, the ice seems 
to have passed directly over them, while the peaks rising to 
that height are left untouched. The glacier, he argues, was 
God s great plow; and when the ice vanished from the 
land, it left it prepared for the husbandman. The hard sur 
face of the rocks was ground to powder, the elements of the 
soil were mingled in fair proportions ; granite was carried 
into the lime regions, lime was mingled with the arid 
and unproductive granite district, and a soil was prepared 
fit for the agricultural uses of man. There are evidences all 
over the polar regions to show that at one period the heat of 
the tropics extended all over the globe. The ice period is 


supposed to be long subsequent to this, and next to the last 
before the advent of man. 


; ERE we are by the brookside. This baby stream 
was cradled among yonder hills, and these slop 
ing meadows are its play -ground. See how it 
dances through the green- sward. Hark how it 
sings. But there are other choristers. The 
pleasant treble of the lark, the sharp notes of gossiping 
blackbirds, the sonorous twang of the bullfrog, and the 
semitones of clouds of ephemerae, mingle with the refrain of 
the rivulet at our feet, and the pot-pourri is cheerful and 
exhilarating, if not harmonious. 

But it was not alone to " babble of green fields" that we 
left the "thick solitudes called social," to bivouac by the 
brookside. There be shapely creatures clouded with pur 
ple and orange, and bedropped with crimson, lying perdu 
under the ripples of this running water, waiting for what 
Providence may send them in the way of provant. We pro 
pose to be their evil genius, and have brought the imple 
ments with us to betray them to their ruin. Sooner, dear 
reader, shall you catch Mercury without his caduceus than 
a veteran angler by a trout stream without his rod. Forth 
from thy well-worn case, old whipper of the brooks. Age 
has not robbed thy joints of their suppleness, nor, thank 
the Providence that shapes men s ends, has it yet taken the 
elasticity out of yours. E pluribus unum ; the sections are 
one. It is easier to reconstruct a rod than a republic. Is 
not this a wand lit for the right hand of a naiad ? a perfect 
taper from butt to topmost ring, light as a reed and springy 
as a rapier. This multiplier, too, is a masterpiece. Count 
less revolutions have not disorganized it, though it has im 
molated more victims than were ever guillotined in the Place 
de Greve. It takes not the accustomed fingers of the angler 
long to prepare his tackle. At the end of the transparent 


leader dangles a "brown hackle "a killing fly when the 
sun is shining softly through the golden mist of noonday ; 
and now for a cast. Seest thou, reader, that bit of ruffled 
water, this side of the gnarled, hump-backed old witch of a 
willow that is stooping to catch a glimpse of her ungainly 
shape in the stream ? Right for the center of that little eddy 
shall our feather-fly make wing. Deftly done, by all that s 
entomological ! Had the lure been alive it could not have 
dropped into the ripple more naturally. Aha ! Credulity 
in a broidered coat snaps at the temptation. 

A noble trout, a very emperor of the brook, and hooked 
past all redemption. Whir-r-r-r I how he makes the reel 
spin. See him dart from the surface, mad for freedom. 
Alas! lithe acrobat, thy last flip-flap is at hand. Thou rt 
e en a drowning, for fish may have " too much of water," as 
the fair Ophelia. It is mere folly to fight with destiny ; be 
guided, come ashore, and die peacefully on the green-sward. 
We ll land him gently, "as if we loved him," as old Isaak 
says of the worm. There he lies, poor victim of overween 
ing confidence, panting as a hart panteth after the water- 
brooks, and ever and anon making ineffectual leaps stream- 
ward. Canst tell us, reader, why a captured fish always 
jumps toward the water even when he can not see it \ It is 
instinct, probably. But what is instinct ? We have asked 
this question of philosophers, metaphysicians, and other 
far-seeing individuals, and, sooth to say, their replies, 
though eminently profound, were utterly unintelligible. 

Pending the solution of the problem, let us continue to 
beguile the fishes. One after another, from pool and rapid 
and the whirling foam of fairy Minne-ha-has, we gather 
them in. The sun on his downward course is frescoing with 
prismatic hues the western wall of heaven, and the wicker 
basket at our belt is full of fish as rarely tinted. What 
shall we do with them ? It were gross vandalism to consign 
them to the culinary mercies of the Maritornes of a village 
tavern. We have tried that before, arid had our trout so 
bedeviled in the cooking that we hesitated to ask a blessing 
on them. Think of the sacrilege of frying brook trout in 
half- rancid dripping ? It is rank heathenism. Why send 


missionaries to the Fejee islanders when the choice gifts of 
the Great Provider are thus misused of pagans at home. 

No ! those self same denizens of the silvery streams shall 
"be manipulated by our own hands, even at the brookside 
from which they were taken while sporting in the cool and 
limpid waters their native element ; and shall tickle our 
palate while reposing in the midst of umbrageous foliage. 

We have really enjoyed it ; camping away up among the 
streamlets, and have returned "edified and built up," our 
back is straighter, step firmer, hand steadier, head lighter 
than before we went into "the brush." The nymph Spring 
is not quite as forward as she was last year, but we hap 
pened to catch her in a melting mood, with a warm sun-flush 
on her cheek, and a very pleasant time we had together. 
Heaven s health commissioners gentle breezes vitalized 
with the fresh breathings of tender grass unfolding blossoms 
are very potent to preserve in their full vigor body and 
soul, and as we strolled hither along the highways and by 
ways of nature s green sanitorium, it seemed to us as if the 
blue fiend Cholera were as effectually barred out of that 
sweet pleasaunce as if it had been guarded, like Eden of old, 
with flaming swords. San Rafael (Mar in Co.} Journal, 
June 23, 1866. 


[Given by the leading citizens of California, at the Lick House, San Francisco, April 
28, 1868, to Hon. Anson Burlingame and the Chinese Embassy.] 

iHE grand banquet arranged to be given by the 
leading citizens of California to Hon. Anson 
Burlingame and the other members of the Chi 
nese Embassy, now in this city en route to the 
Atlantic States and Europe, came off last night 
at the Lick House. All the arrangements were in 
excellent taste, and the gathering was one of the most strictly 
representative ones ever convened in the State. The occasion 
was properly considered to possess an international charac- 


ter, and besides those of our leading official and business 
men who were present, there were representatives, either 
official or commercial, of all the great powers of the world. 
It was felt that as the first embassy from China to the na 
tions abroad chose California for their first halting-place 
outside of the Orient, its members were entitled to a greeting 
as broad and liberal as their mission. 


The Embassy has now been in our city about a month. 
It is composed of Hon. Anson Burlingame, accredited Envoy 
Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary from the Chi 
nese Government to the Treaty Powers ; Chih Taj en and 
Sun Taj en, Chinese Ministers ; J. McLeary Brown, First 
Secretary of Legation ; Monsieur E. de Champs, Second 
Secretary of Legation. With the above are six student in 
terpreters, two of whom have studied and speak English 
with considerable facility, two have studied French, and 
two Russian ; two writers, a native doctor, and about fif 
teen servants. Their Excellencies Chih Tajen and Sun Tajen 
are High Ministers of the second rank, attached to the 
Mission to learn and qualify themselves in the modes of 
diplomatic intercourse, and to assist Mr. Burlingame in his 
communications with the Chinese Government. 

The distinguished party have had their head- quarters at 
the Occidental Hotel, where the Imperial Dragon of China 
has been kept flying from the flagstaff. They have been the 
recipients of many private hospitalities and attentions, have 
inspected all that was most interesting in the city and its 
surroundings, and have established friendly relations witli 
a large number of our citizens. Hence they met at the ban 
quet last night few strangers, and the gathering, while it 
was sufficiently ceremonious and decorous, had little of the 
cold formality that sometimes obtains on such occasions. It 
was altogether an enjoyable social episode, as well as a sig 
nificant public event. 



Numbered about two hundred and twenty-five, and in 
cluded representatives of the United States Government, of 
the State and municipal governments, and of all the leading 
institutions and interests of the coast. Gov. Haight, as 
President of the occasion, sat at the middle of the main 
table, the chief members of the Embassy being seated at 
his right hand, contiguous to Mayor McCoppin, Henry Bar- 
roilhet, Consul of Peru ; Don Jose A. Godoy, Consul of 
Mexico ; G. C. Johnson, Consul of Norway and Sweden ; 
William L. Booker, Consul of the British Empire ; and S. 
F. Butterworth of the celebrated New Almaden mine. On 
the left of the Governor were Henry W. Halleck, General 
Commanding the Division of the Pacific ; H. K. Thatcher, 
Admiral Commanding the American Squadron on this coast ; 
Ogden Hoffman, Judge of the District Court of the United 
States for California ; Delos Lake, District Attorney of the 
United States ; Gen. McCook, United States Minister to the 
Sandwich Islands ; Francis Berton, Consul of Switzerland ; 
C. F. Mebius, Consul of Bavaria ; James De Fremery, Con 
sul of the Netherlands. 

Beside the above were numerous other gentlemen con 
nected with the army and the navy and with the civil 
administration of the country. Among the guests at other 
tables were Maj.-Gen. John F. Miller, Collector of the Port ; 
R. B. Swain, Superintendent of the Mint ; R. G. Sneath, 
President of the Chamber of Commerce ; Thomas H. Selby, 
President of the Merchants Exchange ; Oliver Eldridge, 
agent, on this coast, for the Pacific Mail Steamship Com 
pany ; ex-Governor F. F. Low ; Judge Sawyer of the Cali 
fornia Supreme Court; Judge Currey ; Maj.-Gen. Rose- 
crans ; Senators Hager, Tubbs, and Rose ; Charles Meiri- 
ecke, Bremen Consul ; Charles E. Hitchcock, Hawaiian 
Consul ; Alvinza Hayward ; W. C. Ralston ; ex-Congress 
man Howard, of Michigan ; Brig. -Gen. Leonard ; Eugene 
L. Sullivan; Alpheus Bull; James S. Pierce; Edward 
Tompkins ; Newton Booth ; A. P. Stanford, and many other 
well-known citizens. One table was largely occupied by 


the leading Chinese merchants of this city, associated with 
some of their countrymen of the Embassy, and this party, 
with their rich national costumes, intelligent faces, and 
lively enjoyment of the occasion, were very much observed. 


The selection of the Lick House dining-hall was very hap 
py. It is unquestionably the finest dining-saloon in the 
Union. Its size is 64 feet wide, by 87 feet long, and 32 feet 
high. At a height of 20 feet a gallery 8 feet wide is built, 
extending back from the main body of the hall, and communi 
cating by numerous passages with the outer corridors. The 
ceiling of the hall is arched, with pendants at the corners. 
The walls are paneled, and the balcony arches or alcoves are 
supported by Corinthian pillars. The walls, ceiling and pil 
lars are finished and ornamented in white plaster. Light is 
admitted through twelve large skylights of stained, ground 
and cut glass, surrounding three panels in the ceiling, from 
which depend elegant chandeliers lit with gas. The iloor is 
a handsome mosaic of different colored woods. The doors 
are massive, and composed of elegantly polished woods. 
In the eleven main panels of the lower walls are as many oil 
paintings of Pacific coast scenery, each picture, with the 
frame, measuring seven by nine feet ; while at the four cor 
ners are French-plate mirrors, nine by twelve feet in size. 
The paintings were executed by Thomas Hill, in a broad 
and effective style, and represent with much fidelity four 
scenes in the Yosemite Valley ; one each of the Geysers, of 
Sugar Loaf Rock (on the Placerville route across the Sierra 
Nevada), of Fort Point, Seal Rock, Popocatapetl (in Mexi 
co), and of Mount Hood, in Oregon. They were painted to 
order two years ago, just prior to Mr. Hill s departure for 
Boston, where he is now painting, but only placed in the 
panels last week. The frames are of a new style, devised 
and partly made by the owner of the house, Mr. Lick. They 
consist of outer and inner rounded moldings of rosewood, 
between which is a surface of plate-glass, showing an ele 
gant scroll pattern in gold work on a black ground. A large 


clock over the main entrance from the lower floor is simi 
larly framed. 


Beside the above ornaments none were added to the hall 
for the occasion of the banquet except a few flags of differ 
ent nationalities, which were hung gracefully over the bal 
cony arches and at the ends of the room, and a very tasteful 
disposition of fresh flowers in grateful profusion. The flags 
of China and the United States were hung together over the 
place occupied by the President and the Embassy. The nu 
merous tables were ornamented with bouquets, a small one 
being in the glass of each guest. The room was filled with 
the delightful odor of roses, and brilliant with the flashing 
lights of the chandeliers reflected from the large mirrors. 
The paintings and flower-garlands gave an air of elegance 
to the walls. In the balconies were stationed the musicians, 
who gave at intervals during the evening a charming selec 
tion of airs on the piano and French horn. Mr. Schlotte, 
who is famous for his solos on the latter instrument, led the 
music. The opening quartette on French horns was admi 
rably plaj^ed, and the entire musical programme was per 
formed with the nicest effect. The sounds were soft and 
soothing, and mingled with the hum of conversation without 
disturbing it. When the company were all met and were 
busy at the tables, the scene was a picturesque and anima 
ted one, and was made more picturesque by the unique cos 
tumes of the Chinese, the brilliant uniforms of the military, 
naval and consular representatives, and by the amiable in 
trusion into the balconies of a few ladies as spectators in the 
latter part of the evening. 

The President of the banquet, Gov. Haight, called the com 
pany to order at the close of the repast, and announced the 
first regular toast of the evening, TJie President of the Uni 
ted States, to which Hon. Delos Lake responded in the fol 
lowing words : 


Mr. Chairman The toast which has just been offered 


will command the respect of every man who appreciates the 
dignity and importance of the office of Chief Magistrate of 
the Republic, and of none more than the accredited rep 
resentative of the High Priest and Imperial Father of 
370, 000, 000 of people. Never has the health of the President 
of the United States been proposed under more interesting 
or more gratifying circumstances. This sumptuous banquet 
is the expression of American gratitude for that liberal pol 
icy which has induced an empire whose authentic history 
begins three thousand years before the birth of Christ, and 
which, through all the intervening centuries, has preserved 
an almost unbroken isolation, to select as the interpreter of 
its thoughts and the exponent of its intentions a distinguished 
citizen of the youngest nation. The spectacle, regarded by 
that light which irradiates and reveals the future, is full of 
significance. Here the oldest and the newest civilizations 
have met together. 

You, gentlemen of the Embassy, eminent at home and 
respected here, would ruffle the vaunted equanimity of your 
ancestors, could they rise from their tomb and behold you in 
this place surrounded by these associates. You have come 
from a land where for nearly five thousand years the un 
mixed race to which you belong has dwelt in busy and 
crowded seclusion, to a country at least twice as extensive 
as your own, capable of supporting a population of more 
than 800,000,000, and yet possessing less than one-tenth of 
the number of your own people ; whose vast prairies and 
almost boundless forests were scarcely disturbed by human 
industry, when, in 1637, the first British ship reached the 
teeming city of Canton. 

You come from a land whose language and literature are 
original and fixed, to a country whose language and whose 
literature are the cultivation of many ages and nations, and 
changeable as the civilization among which they exist. You 
have come from a land where the fifteen maxims of Confu 
cius form the exclusive basis of morality and philosophy, to 
a country where all moral creeds consistent with the public 
safety are tolerated, and where systems of philosophy are 
born in a day and die in a generation. 


Yon have come from a land where the imperial will, ad 
vised by the ancient Len Lee code, is the supreme law, 
to a country governed by a written Constitution, which can 
be altered by the people, and by laws made for every emer 
gency, and various as the wants they are made to supply. 
You have come from a land where the supreme ruler rep 
resents the deities you adore, to a country whose officials 
are the creatures of their constitiients, and before whose 
highest legislative body, without revolution, without com 
mercial, financial, political, or social derangement, its execu 
tive head is now undergoing a trial which may terminate in 
his removal. You come, in short, from a land of extreme 
conservatism and intense realism, to a country of the most 
active progress and disturbing enthusiasm. 

This meeting spans fifty centuries, and links together two 
extremes each of which is without a parallel. Am I not 
correct, then, Mr. Chairman, in describing the occasion as 
extraordinary and auspicious ? And when we consider the 
results which must follow the movement in which our emi 
nent countryman is engaged, what prophet shall be bold 
enough to attempt their enumeration ? 

For nearly 200 years the East India Company monopo 
lized commerce with China, and for years after their mon 
opoly was broken the British continued to control that 
lucrative trade ; but the enterprising spirit and matchless 
energy of our people have overcome the advantages which 
Great Britain thus obtained, and the tide is on the turn. In 
its relations with the Celestial Empire the United States is 
now placed on a level with the most favored nations, and 
its geographical position, and the line of palatial steamers 
established by American enterprise, soon to be followed by 
an oceanic telegraph and the completion of the Pacific Rail 
road, before long must render this continent the principal 
avenue of communication between Europe and Asia, and 
raise this metropolis of the Pacific to the loftiest height of 
monetary power. 

Let us, then, here warmly acknowledge the honor which 
the Emperor of China has paid to our country and to our 
President. May the reciprocity of interests thus gener 


ously recognized be followed by an interchange of influ 
ences which shall contribute to the prosperity of both 
nations. May we appreciate and adopt the thrift, the 
industry, the patience, the fortitude, the veneration for age, 
the wise conservatism for which, the Chinese are pre-emi 
nent ; and, through our efforts, may civilization complete 
its cycle by illuminating the land of its birth with all the 
gathered splendors of five thousand years. 

At the conclusion of Mr. Lake s remarks, Gov. Haight 
read the second regular toast The Army of the United 

Major- General Halleck arose to respond, and after the 
applause which his appearance evoked had subsided, he 
spoke as follows : 


Mr. President and Gentlemen I thank you, in the name 
of my comrades of the army, for the complimentary toast 
just offered. On an occasion like this, and in this presence, I 
shall be excused for not speaking as a military officer. We 
are assembled to welcome the civil representatives of a 
foreign and friendly power of a great nation witli which 
we have a large and rapidly increasing commercial inter 
course. I will, therefore, speak rather as a citizen, and as 
a California!!. 

We all know that America derived its civilization from 
Europe, and that European civilization was in a great 
measure derived from Asia. This tide has for ages been 
flowing westward. The result is that men are much better 
acquainted with what is east than what is west of them. 
Europeans know more about Asia than we do about Amer 
ica ; and the people of the Atlantic States are more familiar 
with Europe and European matters than they are with the 
capacities and wants of the Pacific States. 

An amusing illustration of this occurred a few months 
ago. A high official in Washington a very intelligent and 
able man in complaining to me of the expenses of the 
military establishment on this coast, suggested that the 


expenses might be reduced by establishing all the military 
posts in Arizona and Nevada on the banks of navigable 
rivers, where they could be supplied by water transporta 
tion. I could only reply that we had not yet discovered 
any navigable streams in the interior of Arizona, and that I 
knew of no river of that description running through the 
Sierra Nevadas. With this example before us, I think we 
Californians may be pardoned for some ignorance, and no 
little prejudice, in regard to the countries and peoi)le west 
of us. 

Not many years ago these Asiatic nations were excluded 
from the pale of European international law. It was held 
by European statesmen and the doctrine was defended by 
John Quincy Adams that the Christian powers had a right- 
to compel them to trade with us, in such articles and on 
such terms as we saw fit to dictate. Thanks to the liberal 
views of the present age, and to our increasing respect for 
independent nationalism, they are now held and treated 
with as having equal rights under the laws of international 
comity and commercial intercourse. 

I regard this as one of the most important movements of 
modern times. It is already breaking down the barriers of 
Oriental and Occidental prejudice ; and it will eventually 
lead to the harmony and civilization of the world. And for 
this we are, in no small degree, indebted to the official acts 
of our distinguished guest and his diplomatic associates. 

Standing, as we do here, on the extreme western verge of 
our Republic, overlooking, as it w^ere, the coast of Asia, 
and occupying the future center of the trade and commerce 
of the two worlds, this matter is of great and almost para 
mount importance to us. If that civilization which has so 
long moved westward with the star of empire is, now puri 
fied by the principles of true Christianity, to go on round 
the world till it reaches the place of its origin, and makes 
the Orient blossom again with its benign influences, San 
Francisco must be made the abutment, and international 
law the bridge, by which it will cross the Pacific Ocean. 
The enterprises of the merchants of California have already 
laid the foundations of the abutments, and diplomatists and 


steam and telegraph companies are rapidly accumulating 
materials for the construction of the bridge. 


The object of this festival is the proper commemoration 
of a great historic event, arid to welcome in this first land 
ing place in the territory of the United States a distinguished 
gentleman, your guest, who is on his way to represent the 
Chinese Empire at the capitals of America and Europe. 
The event to which I refer is one of those which mark a 
step forward in human progress, introducing, as it does, an 
empire, one of the oldest, if not the oldest, of all that exist 
on the globe, into the great family of nations. 

For centuries this people has remained almost entirely ex 
cluded from intercourse with Europe and America. A wall 
of separation has prevented them from contact with the 
civilization, arts, commerce, polity, and religion of the 
Western World. Mercantile enterprise and religious devo 
tion have vainly sought to overthrow the barriers which a 
jealous spirit of seclusion has erected and maintained against 
contact with those who were regarded by the people of that 
empire as outside barbarians. The antiquity of Chinese 
civilization, the perfection to which many of the arts have 
attained among the people, the value of some of their agri 
cultural products, especially that far-famed herb that 
"cheers but not inebriates," their lack of knowledge of 
the religion of the Bible, have all operated as powerful 
incentives to efforts, both selfish and unselfish, to open the 
door to freedom of trade and interchange of products and 
ideas with the people of that vast empire. While opinions 
differ upon the question of immigration and other subjects, 
there is and can be no difference of opinion upon the de 
sirableness of unrestricted commercial intercourse with 
China, and with all the nations of the earth. To us in Cali 
fornia the appointment by that Government of an American 
citizen, as its organ of communication with the Western 
Powers, is an event of peculiar interest. The discovery of 
gold here, and the consequent rush of adventurous emigra 
tion across the plains and mountains have brought the oldest 


and youngest of nations face to face on opposite shores of 
this great ocean. 

The young, impulsive, progressive civilization of America 
comes in direct contact with the ancient, venerable, and 
peculiar civilization of Asia. Events, some of which are, 
perhaps, not creditable either to China or to Europe, have 
culminated in unlocking the Chinese mind from the fetters 
in which it has been bound by centuries of exclusion from 
Caucasian progress, until we see the remarkable spectacle 
of a citizen of our young Republic selected as the bearer of 
offers of commerce and amity between the Eastern and 
Western World. 

I will not attempt, at this time, to picture the grand re 
sults which I trust will flow from this auspicious event, not 
merely to America and to Europe, but to China and to man 
kind. I see in the near future a vast commerce springing 
up between the Chinese empire and the nations of the 
West ; an interchange of products and manufactures mu 
tually beneficial ; the watchwords of progress and the pre 
cepts of a pure religion uttered to the ears of one-third of 
the human race hitherto resisting, with the inertia of a dead 
weight, all progress, material, political, social, or spiritual. 

As Chief Magistrate, then, of this Western State of the 
Union, I welcome you, sir, as the Embassador of that vast 
empire, to the territory of the Republic which you are still 
proud to call your native land. I doubt not you have ac 
cepted a great and sacred trust in no selfish or narrow spirit, 
either of personal advantage or of seeking exclusive privi 
leges for our own, over other nations, and so, in the name 
of commerce, of civilization, of progress, of humanity, and 
of religion, on behalf not merely of California, or America, 
but of Europe and of mankind, I bid you and your asso 
ciates welcome and God-speed. 


Gov. Haight read the following toast : " Our Guest TJie 
son of the youngest and representative, of the oldest 

or THI** 



Government" and announced that Hon. Anson Burlingame 
would respond. 

As Mr. Burlingame arose, the entire company stood up 
and greeted him with three cheers, which made the banquet 
hall tremble. He said : 

Mr. President and Gentlemen In rising to respond to 
the sentiment which you have just done me the honor to 
propose, I feel a weight of responsibility such as never before 
pressed itself upon me. I stand between two civilizations, 
now for the first time, by their representatives, face to face, 
and, belonging to one, I am called upon to respond for the 
other. The situation is a novel one, and my sincere desire 
is that I may be able to meet it in such a manner as not to 
put at hazard the great interests which have been confided 
to me. I shall ask your indulgence, therefore, and your 
generous construction of the language I may use. This is 
not the time nor the place to enter upon an exposition of 
the purposes of the mission. Until it shall have been re 
ceived at Washington, it -seems to me that diplomatic pro 
priety requires that it should limit itself to the exchange of 
such official courtesies only as it shall meet in its way. In 
this sense, then, I respond to the sentiment which has been 
offered. In this sense, then, Mr. Chairman, do I respond to 
your own eloquent language, and to this decorous and im 
posing reception. 

I say that this is not the time nor the place on which to 
enter into any exposition of the purposes of the mission. 
Not because there is little to say, not because there is any 
mystery about the mission. No, sir ! There is nothing in 
its origin that I should not be glad to tell you ; there is 
nothing no one purpose of it that I should not be ashamed 
to conceal. It came to me unsolicited ; it was accepted in 
the broad interests of civilization. You said truly, sir, when 
you said that the mission would not be used by me in any 
partial or limited sense. If I know myself, it shall be con 
ducted only in the interests of all. This mission is not the 
result of any accident, or of any special design ; it is the 
result, the legitimate consequence, of events which have 
recently occurred at Pekin, the capital of China. It was 


not until recently that the West was brought into proper 
relations with that empire. Previously, affairs went on 
upon a system of misunderstandings, resulting in mutual 
misfortune. It was not until the year 1860 that the repre 
sentatives of the Treaty Powers met the great men who carry 
on the affairs of the Chinese empire, and coming into per 
sonal relations with them, they had occasion to modify their 
views as to the capacity and as to the intentions of those 
men. And they were led straightway to consider how they 
should substitute, for the old false system of force, one of 
fair diplomatic action. They addressed themselves resolute 
ly to the discussion of that question, and that discussion 
resulted in the adoption of what is called the co-operative 
policy, which is briefly this : An agreement on the part of 
the Treaty Powers to act together upon all material ques 
tions ; to stand together in defense of their treaty rights ; 
and the determination, at the same time, to give to these 
treaties a generous construction ; a determination to main 
tain the foreign system of customs, and to support it by a 
pure administration, and upon a cosmopolitan basis ; an 
agi^ement to take no concessions of territory to the Treaty 
Powers, and never to menace- the territorial integrity of 
China. These agreements are at the foundation of the co 
operative policy. You will perceive that they leave China 
perfectly free to develop herself in precisely such form of 
civilization as she may desire at such time and in such 
manner as she pleases. It leaves her waters under her own 
control, and her lands safe. 

Such, in brief, is the co-operative policy. I do not pro 
pose here to-night to speak of the protracted discussions 
which led to that result. I did not intend and it would be 
improper to do so to speak of the action of the living in 
this regard, but I would speak of the dead. There is one 
who is identified with that policy, and with the establish 
ment of justice in China, who ought never to be passed 
over in silence or forgotten Sir Frederick Bruce, the late 
British Minister at Washington. That great man, recalling 
the traditions and the practices of his own country, said 
that they jarred upon the moral sense of England, and that 


he was ready upon his own responsibility to reverse them. 
He was ready to lead against them, and he did lead against 
them, so fairly and so ably, as, in the first place, to win the 
respect of his colleagues ; in the second place, to win the 
support of his country, and in the third place, to win the 
admiration of the diplomatic world. 

It is not time yet to speak at length of the results of that 
policy. I can not foretell the future ; I can only speak to 
some extent of the recent past. And as I do so, I must aver 
that that policy has borne rich fruits. Under its inspiring 
influence commerce has sprung into being ; trade has in 
creased from $82,000,000 to $300,000,000; steamboats have 
been multiplied ; arsenals have been built ; light-houses 
have been erected ; hundreds of foreigners have been taken 
into the service of China, under the leadership f one of 
the ablest men in the world. This flag which is above us 
(the imperial flag of China), has been adopted as the first 
national flag of China. Wheaton s International Law has 
become and is taken as a text-book for that, great empire. 
The influence of Christian missions has been advanced from 
the Yellow Sea even to the great plains of Mongolia, and a 
great college has been established at Pekin, where foreign 
or modern science is to be taught, as well as the foreign 
languages a great college which will be looked up to by 
the eleven thousand students of China who go up every 
three years to Peking to take their third and fourth degrees, 
and to look, as they term it, into the mirror of the mind, to 
see what it has to reveal to them. And finally, as a result, 
I think directly, of that fair and generous policy, it has sent 
this mission forth on its errand of good will. As I have 
said, I will not speak at length to-night of its purposes. I 
must reserve myself for questions as they arise ; but this I 
will say, Mr. Chairman and gentlemen, that this mission 
means progress. It means that China desires to come into 
warmer and more intimate relations with the West. It 
means that she desires to come under the obligations of that 
international law of which you, sir [General Halleck], are 
one of the ablest exponents, to the end that she may enjoy 
the advantages of that law. It means that China, conscious 


of lier own integrity, wishes to have her questions stated 
that she is willing to submit her questions to the general 
judgment of mankind. It means that she intends to come 
into the brotherhood of nations. It means commerce ; it 
means peace ; it means a unification in its own interest of 
the whole human race. It means as you have said here 
to-night that it is one of the mightiest movements of mod 
ern times. And though this ephemeral mission may pass 
away, that great movement will go on. The great deed is 
done. The fraternal feeling of 400,000,000 people has com 
menced to flow, through the land of Washington, to the 
older nations of the West, and it will flow forever. 
Who is there that would check it? Who is there that 
would say to China, "We wish to have no other rela 
tions with you than such as we establish in our own 
interests, and enforce at the cannon s mouth?" I trust 
there are none such. I believe, rather, that this fraternal 
meeting is the true exponent of the sentiments of the masses 
of the people. I believe this occasion reflects more truly 
that enlarged spirit which is not alone devoted to trade, but 
also to civilization and progress that great and liberal spirit 
which Avould not be content with exchanging goods with 
China, but would also exchange thoughts with her ; that 
would inquire carefully into the causes of that sobriety and 
that industry of which you, sir [Governor Haight], made 
mention ; that would learn something of the long experience 
of that people ; that would question those institutions which 
have withstood the storms of time as to the secrets of their 
stability ; that would ask what means that free competition 
by which the son of the lowliest coolie may rise to the 
highest office in the empire ; and makes scholarship the test 
of merit ; that does not believe that genius is dead in the 
land of Confucius ; that does not believe the powers of the 
mind shall no more be kindled and burn on the soil beneath 
which rest the bones of the inventors of porcelain, of gun 
powder, of the compass, of paper and printing. That does 
not believe the Christian s hope should cease to bloom where 
the Christian martyrs fell. Ricei, Yerbrest, Schaal, Mor 
rison, Milne, Bridgeman, Culbertson, and a host of others 


lived and labored, and died, praying and hoping that the 
day would arrive when that great nation would stretch forth 
its arms toward the shining banners of Christianity and 
Western civilization. That hour has struck the day is 

I will not, for my strength will not permit it, pursue these 
enticing themes. I will rather return to the first purpose of 
my rising, which was to return, for myself and my asso 
ciates, our sincere, our grateful thanks, for this cordial, this 
magnificent greeting. It does honor to California ; it makes 
me proud of the State of my adoption. Not because it is 
the reception of a few individuals. No ! But because it is 
a warm welcome to a great cause. I assure you that in all 
my wanderings, the sweetest memories which will come up 
to me, along with the recollection of your bright skies, 
your golden fields, and your measureless hospitalities, the 
pleasaritest, the dearest recollections that will come up to 
my mind will be those of this night, when California, speak 
ing through the lips of her eloquent Chief Magistrate, and 
the other eloquent gentlemen who have spoken through 
these representatives of your " solid men," without distinc 
tion of party has given a generous and fearless reception 
to the first mission sent forth by one-third of the human 
race to the nations of the West. And now, thanking you 
for this generous greeting, I bid you an affectionate farewell. 

At the close of Mr. Burlingame s eloquent speech the hall 
again resounded with prolonged cheering and applause. 


Governor Haight next read the sixth regular toast : 

u Their Excellencies, Chili and Sun, and the Junior Members 
of the Mission" 

To which Chih Tajen responded. He read from manu 
script in his own language, and the interpreter of the Em 
bassy then gave the translation as folloAVS : 

Honorable Governor I do not rise with the intention of 
adding any thing to what Mr. Burlingame has said in reply 
to the toast of this mission, of which he is the responsible 


chief. I would only beg to express for myself, my col 
league, Sun Taj en, and the attaches of the mission, our 
sincere thanks not only for the cordial reception we have 
received from you this evening, but also for the more than 
kind attentions that have been paid us since our arrival in 
San Francisco. We can not but look upon our passing so 
journ in California as a most auspicious and cheering com 
mencement of our diplomatic tour. In the case of a pioneer 
mission such as this, it is plain that success or failure must 
depend in a great degree on the character of the persons to 
whose charge it is intrusted ; and the Government of China 
is fully sensible of the rare advantage it has had in being 
able to place at the head of this, its first mission to foreign 
Powers, a diplomatist of Mr. Burlingaine s position and 
ability. With him to lead us we need fear no failure ; and 
my country will have cause to congratulate herself, if this, 
her first step toward closer intercourse with other nations, 
be as prolific of good results for her, as your efforts and 
labors in California have been in attaining to such a pitch 
of prosperity in the short period of eighteen years. 

In conclusion, I would, with permission, say a word to 
my own countrymen resident in California. Gentlemen, 
Directors of the Six Companies I address you, and through 
you all our fellow-countrymen in the State. It has given 
me great pleasure to meet you in this distant land, and to 
learn that you. are prosperous in your several callings. On 
leaving Pekin I was charged by his Majesty, our august 
Emperor, to assure you of his affectionate interest in your 
welfare. It is his Majesty s hope that, though living in a 
distant land, you will ever strive, by your conduct, to up 
hold the respectability and good name of your native coun 
try. To do so, let me urge you not to forget the precepts 
which have been handed down from age to age by the wise 
and good men of China. Do not fail to pay due regard to 
the requirements of the various social relations, and neglect 
not your moral duties as men. Be careful to obey the laws 
and regulations of the nation in which you reside. If you 
do so, and at the same time pursue your callings in accord 
ance with the principles of right and propriety, success can 


not fail to attend your labors ; while a contrary course will 
infallibly bring on you failure and misfortune. 

I feel confident that you will show yourselves, by your 
good conduct, worthy of his Majesty s affectionate interest 
in your welfare, and will not disappoint the good opinions 
I have been led to form of you. 


The seventh regular toast was to have been responded to 
by Hon. Eugene Casserly, but he was not present, and sent 
the following letter as expressive of his sentiments : 

Messrs. T. If. Selby, 0. Eldridge, R. B. Swain, A. Bull 
and oilier s, Committee of Inmlalion GENTLEMEN : I am 
much obliged for your invitation to attend a dinner at the 
Lick House on Tuesday evening, the 28th inst., to Hon. 
Anson Burlingame, Embassador for China, &c. 

I regret to have to deny myself the pleasure of meeting 
Mr. Burlingame and the other gentlemen at the dinner. Al 
low me, however, to make in this way a few general ob 
servations on the purpose of the mission. 

From the want, perhaps, of a just perspective we are 
prone to estimate untruly the events of our own time. Yet 
when an empire on the other shore of the Pacific, which is 
the oldest in the world, and which includes within its sway 
nearly one-tenth of the habitable globe and more than one- 
third of its population, steps out from its seclusion of centu 
ries, and of its own will tenders to the nations of the earth the 
relations of commercial intercourse, the event would seem 
to be not only of historic interest generally, but of marked 
present importance to some countries, and to our own at 
least as much as to any. That the selection for the head of 
this mission of a distinguished American, many years our 
Minister at Pekin, was a tribute not only to the general 
candor, justice and humanity of our American policy and 
diplomacy in China, but also to the personal qualifica 
tions of Mr. Burlingame himself, may be, without impro 
priety, assumed by us, since it has been frankly conceded 
in European quarters of least friendly disposition toward 


American progress in the East. Whether it has any spe 
cially favorable significance toward the United States in 
future negotiations, it is perhaps not for us to say. 

This much, it certainly authorizes us to expect that we 
will stand on equal ground with the most favored nations. 
We ask no more. In the contest for that Eastern trade 
which has always heretofore been thought to carry with it 
the commercial supremac}^ of the globe, America asks only 
a fair field even as against her oldest and most formidable 

Nature, and our position as the nearest neighbor of East 
ern Asia, separated from her only by the great highways 
of the ocean, have placed in our hands all the advantages 
that we need. Whatever benefits shall result to the world 
at large, from any great extension of its commercial relations 
with that country, a full measure of them must of necessity 
fall to our share, increasing with each succeeding year. 
Favored by vicinity, by soil and climate on our own terri 
tory, with a people inferior to none in enterprise and vigor, 
without any serious rivalry anywhere, all this Pacific coast 
is naturally ours, or is our tributary. With our many and 
growing lines of steamships thrown out in every direction, 
and on every route ; with our flag in every port, and our 
enterprise on every shore, from Panama to Alaska, we hold 
as ours the great ocean that so lately rolled in solitary 
grandeur from the equator to the pole. In the changes cer 
tain to be effected in the currents of finance, of exchange, 
and of trade by the telegraph and the railway, bringing the 
financial centers of Europe and the United States, by way 
of San Francisco, within a few weeks of the ports of China 
and the East, San Francisco must become, at no distant day, 
the banker, the factor, and the carrier of the trade of East 
ern Asia and the Pacific, to an extent to which it is difficult 
to assign limits. 

On this coast, and especially in this State, labor, we 
rejoice to say, is a more important interest, has a better 
position and a more just return than else were in the world. 
Our democratic representative institutions rest too, on a 
basis of extended suffrage, and general political equality. 


For these and other reasons sufficiently well-known, it 
should not be matter of surprise here or elsewhere, that 
there is a strong settled feeling among us as to the movements 
hitherward of those countless myriads, industrious, active, 
and migratory compared to which the whole population 
of this coast is not a handful from the shores of China, not 
farther removed from us to-day than were the great hives 
of European immigration from our Atlantic sea-board thirty 
or forty years ago. 

Whatever may be the diversity of opinion on this point, 
there can be none whatever as to the great special advan 
tages to this State and coast of commercial relations on an 
extended and permanent footing Avith Eastern Asia and all 
other neighboring countries on either shore of the Pacific. 

With commercial relations comes commerce, and of com 
merce we can not well have too much. 

I am, gentlemen, very respectfully, your friend and 
servant. E. CASSERLY. 

SAN FRANCISCO, April 28, 1868. 


In the absence of Mr. Casserly, the President called on 
Edward Tompkins to respond to the toast. Mr. Tompkins 
said : 

He must be a bold man who would venture to occupy 
the place of the Senator elect, but somebody must step into 
the breach, and he might as well as another. The toast 
The Republic of Nations, the United States of the World- 
is a theme so vast and suggests interests so boundless, that 
weeks of reflection would not enable a man to grasp all its 
bearings. Nations will need a vast amount of reconstruc 
tion before they are all bound together in one Union. Asia 
will need to be made almost anew. Perhaps it may be 
thought that Africa is reconstructed already. 

"We see," said he, "in nations the impulses that mark 
individuals. One-half the human race remain in the old 
homestead of the Asiatic continent, sticking to the old soil 
and to old ideas ; while the other, ages ago, started out on a 


prospecting expedition, and they have kept on going west 
until they have got so uneasy that some of them, especially 
in New England, are never satisfied so long as they see a 
dollar that they have not caught, or a rod of land that they 
have not annexed. And now they have got so far west that 
almost without thinking of it, they are about getting over 
on the old homestead again. They are now piling them 
selves up on the shore of the Pacific, waiting for the steam 
boat or bridge that is to carry them across. And here they 
are met by a counter-current, by a phenix, by something 
that was never seen before, a Yankee Mandarin, with ever 
so many tails, but tell tale is not one of them. He has fine 
powers of saying a great deal and meaning but little. Our 
Yankee curiosity was not entirely satisfied by his speech 
warm, generous, humanitarian though it was. We 
tried the pumping process, but did not succeed. When 
he came to business he was dry, very dry. He has deter 
mined to tell nothing about that till he gets to Washing 
ton, but we could guess commerce would come along 
this way on the track of the mission and back ; and if it 
did, San Francisco would certainly collect toll both 

This Embassy looks as though the Old World were 
ready to do away with many old rules and prepare 
for the United States of the World if we should take 
the lead; but are we ready to welcome them? It is 
well to say so, but before we can say so truly, the day 
must come when the good man need not blush among us 
for his own countrymen when the question was asked, Who 
are the heathen ? That question was asked the other day 
by a leading journal. If the world is to be liberalized, will 
we do our part ? When the Great Wall of China is crum 
bling, will we try to use the material anew in the interest of 
progress, or will we try to make it a ruin \ Shall we meet 
the Asiatics as brothers, or as enemies to whom we owe 
neither justice nor kindness ? There is much to encourage 
us on the other side of the Atlantic. New ideas are gaining 
ground. The great statesman of Berlin has merged twenty 
petty States in one large one. Diplomatists see the current 



of the world s progress, and are playing their games in uni 
son with it. And this great mission, in harmony with the 
spirit of the age, stepping at once into greatness, is an evi 
dence of the awakening of the great Asiatic nation to the 
unity of the interests of mankind. In closing my remarks, 
I give you a sentiment : 

" The world s new day the field of the cloth of gold is 
the whole earth ; the unity and elevation of the race the 
object it secures." 

Eighth regular toast " Tea : TJie cup that cheers but not 


I trust, Mr. President, there is no insinuation in the sen 
timent you have just read, that there are cups here which 
might both cheer and inebriate. There is nothing personal 
in it, is there ? Are we not all teetotalers ? Certainly, we 
know too well the distinction between a tea-cup and a hic 
cup, to be any thing else. 

I remember an anecdote of Tom Corwin that he was once 
at a country tavern, and the landlady, thinking she must use 
all her dictionary words in the presence of so great a man, 
asked him, at the supper- table, "if he took his tea with 
condiments." Tom instantly replied, " Pepper and salt, if 
you please, madam, but no mustard." 

Ah ! if he were only here how he could flavor this partic 
ular cup of tea you have sent to me "with condiments" 
with salt, attic salt with the most pungent spice of wit, 
with the finest aroma of humor, until it would become such 
a cup of tea as never was tasted before. But, alas ! "poor 
Tom s a-cold." 

If there be any thing in the doctrine, Mr. President, that 
the thought and literature of a people are greatly influenced 
by what they eat and drink, who shall be able to estimate 
the obligations the world is under to tea \ Take, for exam 
ple, a great poem, a great speech, a great book, who can 
analyze it and say what portion is due to the brain-power 
of the author, and what to the kindly beverage that inspires, 
sustains, and soothes him ; or consider, what is still better, 


because wider and deeper, the great current of common life, 
who can calculate how much its course is influenced by the 
millions of throbbing hearts which are its sources ; and how 
much by the home tea-tables, which are its kindliest guides? 
I should like to argue that the pure teachings and inspired 
philosophy of Confucius were due in part to tea, but, unfor 
tunately for that hypothesis, Confucius lived five hundred 
Christ, and tea did not become a national bev- 
^ the Chinese until eight hundred years after. 
>t sure that is not consistent with the theory, 
t add to its dignity. It was a triumph of the 
T the material. It was the prophecy of thought, 
as a type and verity in the mind of Confucius, 
>k thirteen hundred years to realize as a fact 
y. That is metaphysics. Do you understand 
Mr. Chairman? I don t. What I am try- 
5 that the teachings of the great philosopher 
.e minds and characters of his countrymen that 
i necessity of their natures, and its cultivation 
al delight. 

nay not the invention of printing, the manufac- 
powder and paper by the Chinese, centuries 
iropeans attained those arts, be due to the fact 
ese were a nation of tea-drinkers eight hundred 
it was introduced into Europe ? 
^tice of tea by a European was by the traveler 


To the fair regions where the sun doth rise, 
Whose rich productions we so justly prize." 

In 1635, a traveler, and the secretary of an embassy, by 
the way, after describing the wonderful virtues attributed 
to tea in the East, naively adds : " But this herb is now so 
well known in most parts of Europe, where many persons 
of quality use it with good success, that it must needs be 
known what are its good and bad qualities." 

No wonder its use was confined to " persons of quality," 
for years afterward the price in England ranged from 6 to 
10 per pound allowing for the difference in the value of 
money, equal now from $100 to 300 in gold. Thanks to 
free commercial intercourse, the price is cheaper and its use 
more general now. 

The first mention of tea in any act of Parliament was in 
1660. The East India Company. long enjoyed a monopoly 
of its importation. Once the Chinese endeavored to organ 
ize a counter monopoly of its importation, whereat the East 
India Company was filled with virtuous indignation, and 
fulminated against the imposing of fetters upon trade by 
the Chinese. 

Lecky, in his "History of Rationalism," attributes import 
ant effects on modern civilization to the introduction of tea 
and coffee into Europe in the sixteenth century. After 
speaking of the clubs formed in France, he says: "The 
effect of hot drinks upon domestic life has been even greater 
in England than on the Continent ; checking the boisterous 
revels that had once been universal, and raising woman to 
a new position in the domestic circle, they have contributed 
very largely to refine manners, to introduce a new order of 
tastes, and to soften and improve the characters of men." 
There is one phase of the influence of tea on our civilization 
society has not mentioned, and I will not discuss lest the 
topic prove interminable I mean the tea-party. There is 
one memorable tea-party, however, I would like to refer to. 
1 do not mean that at which Mrs. Grundy perpetually pre 
sides, but a certain famous tea-party that was held in Boston 
harbor nearly a hundred years ago. I have long thought, 
Mr. President, that Mother England had studied the char- 


acters of our grandmothers, and sought to tempt them on 
their weakest side. It would have been no sacrifice to 
refuse jim-cracks and gew-gaws, but it was not in human 
nature to suppose they would forego their tea. Shall we 
ever sufficiently admire the more than Spartan courage with 
which they turned from charming Young Hyson and delight 
ful Bohea, betaking themselves to sage and sassafras 
resolved to drink it out on that line, if it took all the sum 
mers and all the winters of their dear precious lives ? Bless 
ings on our grandmothers ! I should like to drink to their 
memory in a cup of real Congo. If I should attempt to in 
any thing stronger, and spirits can rap, they would set these 
glasses ringing and dancing to such music as we never 
heard before. 

It was not much tea the colonies required a hundred 
years ago one or two cargoes a year, and not large ones. 
Now, if I mistake not, the United States import about forty 
million pounds annually, and Great Britain about eighty 
million. What the total export of China and Japan is, I 
know not, but when I think of this great river of tea, which, 
having its source in the East, flows round the whole earth, 
through all lands of the homes it gladdens, of the hearts it 
cheers, of the spirits it refreshes, I would wax eloquent if I 
could. Not the vintage of Burgundy, not bright Tokay, 
not old Falernian, ripened in the cellars of Macsenas, not 
the waters of Helicon, have inspired so much eloquence and 
song, nor a hundredth part of the kindly sentiment which 
is the true poetry of common life, as home-brewed tea. Oh ! 
fondest recollections of home cheerfulest joys of the fire 
side ! Oh ! full contentment of friendship overflowing 
bliss of love ! Oh ! brightest stars of solitude that gleam 
upon us in the sweet hours of revery, when the earth sinks 
beneath our feet, and the heaven of dreams enfolds us in its 
heaven of heavens how do the association of all these clus 
ter around the fragrant cup of tea ! 

Blessings on old China for the gift ! Old ! She was old 
when the walls of the Eternal City were built ; when the 
foundations of the Pyramids were laid. And still she stands, 
the apostle of the past, to watch the flight of the centuries 


and count the mutations of human affairs. Not of her can 
it be sung : 

" The Niobe of nations there she stands, 
An empty urn within her withered hands." 

She is no Mobe her children are not dead. Her children 
are the arts, and they are immortal. Like the children of 
the fairy tale infants at home, they are giants abroad. She 
holds no empty urn but a tea-urn, full and exhaustless 
and all nations send their ships to be her cup-bearers. 
Whatever may be the king, tea is the queen of commerce, 
and reigns by the divine right of blessing dispensed to all 
her loving subjects everywhere. 


The ninth and last regular toast, The Foreign Consular 
Body of San Francisco" was responded toby H. B. M. 
Consul, Mr. Booker. He said : 

Mr. President and Gentlemen : It is gratifying to me to 
respond, on behalf of my colleagues, this evening, to the 
toast with which you have honored the consular body. It 
must be gratifying to you that your distinguished guest this 
evening is your fellow- citizen ; and it must be gratifying to 
him that he is sent as an envoy to his own country. He will 
be received by all the Treaty Powers on the Atlantic side 
with enthusiasm, and the Chinese gentlemen associated with 
him will have an opportunity to study all that can be seen, 
and they will appreciate the advantages that will result to 
their nation from the opening of the country to foreign civ 
ilization. The mission itself is a civilizing expedition. Al 
though China has been civilizing herself steadily for twenty 
centuries, the civilization of Europe, and lately of the Uni 
ted States, has gone far ahead ; and the arts of the West are 
as strange in the East as if their rudiments had never gone 
from that source. My thanks are due to the gentleman for 
his eulogy of the late Sir Frederick Bruce, than whom, a 
purer man never lived, or was more regretted at his death. 
Without arrogating to myself any thing as an Englishman, I 
think it speaks much (to those who knew him) for Mr. Bur- 


lingame, that he was the friend of Sir Frederick Bruce. On 
behalf of the consular body, I thank you for the honor done 
us this evening, and we trust that this embassy will be 
received everywhere in high official circles with the favor 
which its good purpose merits. 

The last toast of the evening " The Fellowship of Com 
merce, the free trade of nature ; it makes the whole world 
akin" was responded to by Hon. William A. Howard. He 
enlarged upon the relations of commerce to civilization, com 
mented upon the importance of inland no lest than of foreign 
commerce, complimented the energy of our people, and 
indulged in glowing anticipations of the future of San Fran 
cisco, which he predicted would yet be the largest American 
city on the largest ocean of the world ; and closed amid 
hearty applause. F. Bulletin, April 29, 1868. 


DRIVE the quill quicker ! faster drive 

Its bleeding point ; and harder strive 

With lagging brain 

Benumbed by the pain 

Of lightning thought ! 

Tug at your hair in frantic haste ; 

Not a single moment to waste 

An idea to lose, 

Or chance to abuse. 

Your time is bought! 

Bought for the public public men 
Are made by ink-tears from your pen ! 
Bought for the public public taste 
Is born (as words) of ink you waste ! 
Bought for the public public weal 
Demands the flow from ink-tipped steel ! 
Bought for the public bought, and oh ! 
Too often bringing purchased icoe ! 


Drive the quill faster ! quicker drive 

Its weeping point ; but harder strive 

To suck and to drain 

From the muddled brain 

Some nobler thought ! 

Think how the scratching, screeching quill 

Can work such good can work such ill ! 

Let each drop you waste 

In your inky haste 

Cry : Life is short ! 

S. F. Mirror, August 6, 1860. 


FROM experiments which were made some time since, at 
the Bell Rock and Sherryvore light-house, on the coast of 
Scotland, it was found that the force of the breakers on the 
side of the German Ocean may be taken at about a ton and 
a half upon every square foot of surface exposed to them. 
The Atlantic breakers fall with double that weight, or three 
tons to the square foot ; and thus a surface of only two 
square yards sustains a blow from a heavy Atlantic breaker 
equal to fifty-four tons. In November, 1824, a heavy gale 
blew, and blocks of limestone and granite, from two to five 
tons weight, were washed about like pebbles at the Ply 
mouth breakwater, in England. About three hundred tons of 
such blocks were borne a distance of two hundred feet, and 
up the inclined plane of the breakwater, carried over it and 
scattered over it in various directions. A block of limestone, 
seven tons weight, was in one place washed a distance of one 
hundred and fifty feet. Blocks of three tons weight were 
torn away by a single blow of a breaker, and hurled over 
into the harbor, and one of nearly two tons, strongly trenailed 
down upon a jetty, was torn away and tossed upward by an 
overpowering breaker. 



fOME years ago, a young man holding a sub 
ordinate position in the East India Company s 
service, twice attempted to deprive himself of 
life by snapping a loaded pistol at his head. 
Each time the pistol missed fire. A friend enter 
ing his room shortly afterward, he requested him 
to fire it out of the window, it then went off without any 
difficulty. Satisfied thus that the weapon had been duly 
primed and loaded, the young man sprang up, exclaiming, 
"I must be reserved for something great!" and from that 
moment gave up the idea of suicide, which for some time 
previous had been uppermost in his thoughts. That young 
man afterward became Lord Clive. 

Two brothers were on one occasion walking together, 
when a violent storm of thunder and lightning overtook 
them. One was struck dead on the spot, the other was 
spared ; else would the name of the great reformer, Martin 
Luther, have been unknown to mankind. 

The holy St. Augustine, having to preach at a distant 
town, took with him a guide, who, by some unaccountable 
means, mistook the usual road and fell into a by-path. 
He afterward discovered that his enemies, having heard of 
his movements, had placed themselves in the proper road 
with a design of murdering him. 

Baron, the sculptor, when a tender boy of five years 
old, fell into a pit of a soap-boiler, and must have perished, 
had not a workman, just entering the yard, observed the 
top of his head, and immediately delivered him. 

When Oliver Cromwell was an infant, a monkey snatch 
ed him from his cradle, leaped with him through a garret 
window, and ran along the leads of the house. The utmost 
alarm was excited among the inmates, and various were 
the devices used to rescue the child from the guardianship 
of the newly-found protector. All were unavailing ; his 
would-be rescuers had lost courage, and were in despair 
of ever seeing the baby alive again, when the monkey 


quietly retraced its steps and deposited its burden safely 
on the bed. On a subsequent occasion, the waters had 
well nigh quenched his insatiable ambition. He fell into a 
deep pond, from drowning in which, a clergyman, named 
Johnson, was the sole instrument of his rescue. 

At the siege of Leicester, a young soldier, about seven 
teen years of age, was drawn out for sentry duty. One of 
his comrades was anxious to take his place. No objection 
was made, and this man went. He was shot dead while 
on guard. The young man first drawn became the author 
of the Pilgrim s Progress. 

Doddridge, when born, was so weakly an infant, he was 
believed to be dead. A nurse standing by fancied she 
saw some signs of vitality. Thus the feeble spark of life 
was saved from being extinguished, and an eminent author 
and consistent Christian preserved to the world. 

John Wesley, when a child, was only just preserved 
from fire. Almost the moment after he was rescued, the 
roof of the house where he had been fell in. Of Philip 
Henry a similar instance is recorded. 

John Knox, the renowned Scotch reformer, was always 
wont to sit at the head of the table, with his back to the 
window. On one particular evening, without being able 
to account for it, he would neither himself sit in the chair 
nor permit any one else to occupy his place. That very 
night a bullet was shot in at the window, purposely to kill 
him ; it grazed the chair in which he sat, and made a hole 
in the foot of a candlestick on the table. 

Many years have now elapsed since three subalterns 
might have been seen struggling in the water off St. Helena ; 
one of them peculiarly helpless, was succumbing. He was 
saved, to live as Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington. 

The life of John Newton is but the history of a marvel 
ous deliverance. As a youth he had agreed to accompany 
some friends on board a man-of-war. He arrived too late ; 
the boat in which his friends had gone was capsized and 
all its occupants drowned. 



WILL say a few words this evening in reply to 
the following letter which I have received : 

"Will you please tell me, in your Lecture- 
room Talks, published in the Independent, what 
you mean by liell and future punishment f My 
mind is yearning for something higher and more spiritual ; 
but, before I can advance any further, I must have these 
terms explained by a liberal Christian man." 

By the term hell, as it is popularly used, we mean or / 
mean that state in which, after this mortal life, the incor 
rigibly wicked are left to their own suffering and punish 
ment. If you ask me the meaning of the original word 
Jiades I reply, that means that state of the dead which 
immediately succeeds this life and the one that is to come. 
Or, if you ask me what liell means in the ordinary usage, 
and in my usage, I reply, that it means the state in which 
the incorrigibly wicked are herded together, and suffer the 
legitimate result of their wickedness. I need not, therefore, 
answer the second question as to the meaning of future 

There has been a mode of presenting the doctrine of 
future punishment, and there has sometimes been a spirit 
employed in the use of it as a motive, which have been repul 
sive, not to say shocking. Not only have we received this 
doctrine as it has come down to us, clothed with material 
figures and illustrations, but these figures and illustrations 
have been magnified and worked up until the doctrine, as it 
is presented by human interpretations and expositions, is 
simply horrible. 

It has been supposed that death was one vast slaughter 
house of torment, where wretched, hopeless and helpless 
creatures, for the sins of life, were, by every conceivable 
method of exquisite physical pain, badgered and beaten 
about in an endless gyration of suffering. Look at the 
Inferno" of Dante, as an exposition of the prevalent 



. . 


opinions of his day. Look at the u Last Judgment" of 
Michael Angelo, as an exposition of the physical ideas of 
torment of his day, where devils are gnawing the skulls of 
the damned ; where men are pitched about on forks ; where 
all possible modes of bodily distress are grossly, savagely, 
hideously complicated. And consider these as presenta 
tions of a state of government under which Christ is the 
manifestation of God ! 

This extreme materialism, this utter barbarity of the ideas 
which have so widely prevailed respecting future punish 
ment, has been one chief reason of the modern reaction that 
has taken place on that subject. Then we have riot, per 
haps, made the matter much better by the arguments de 
rived from the world of moral government, which we have 
advanced to justify future and eternal punishment, and 
which seem not to be at all sound. 

Now, what are these facts ? 

The first to which I shall call your attention is, that our 
Saviour is the fountain of this doctrine. If the strong testi 
mony concerning a future penal state has been found chiefly 
in Paul or in Peter, then men would very likely have said 
or felt, if they did not choose to say that it was a human 
exaggeration. But the remarkable feature is, that this doc 
trine does not appear in the Old Testament at all, and that 
in the New Testament it is, I might almost say, but just al 
luded to anywhere else except in the teachings of the Saviour. 
And the figures representing the fact, the solemn annuncia 
tion of the fact itself, and the frequent use of this great 
shadow of dread in the future, belong to that meek, and 
loving, and gentle, and atoning Lamb of God. 

I do not know what significance this will have to you ; 
but I confess that when I find myself revolting from this 
doctrine on account of the intense materialism of the Church 
derived from medieval representations, and I go to the New 
Testament and see the calm, frequent, unequivocal utter 
ances of Christ, and think what he was, how he left, and 
what he taught, the simple circumstance that it is a doctrine 
of which Christ is the author and teacher is to me the most 
convincing of all things. Coming, as it does, from Christ, 


it impresses me more strongly than it would if it came from 
Paul, or any other of the disciples. Though I consider that 
they were inspired, yet I can not but feel that, emanating 
from him it is different from what it would have "been if it 
had emanated from either of them. 

If, then, a man says to me, "Do you believe in future 
punishment 3" I have to say, "I do." And if he says, 
"How do you reconcile it with the goodness and justice of 
God?" I say, "The Lord Jesus Christ himself was the 
very one that introduced and taught it." 

As to those word arguments by which this teaching 
of the Saviour is explained away, I have only to say that 
any latitude of construction which explains this away ex 
plains away every other teaching of his. If by any process 
of dissection and disjointing you can take out that doctrine 
of Christ, I do not know what you can not take out by the 
same process. 

It is a very awful and painful view. I feel when I look 
upon society and think of that doctrine, as I should if I 
looked into a crater. I shudder. I hide my eyes and heart 
from it. It touches me to the core of my life. I positively 
dare not think of it in certain moods. It is a dreadful 

But then, as this is the teaching of Christ, a spiritual 
teacher, in respect to men who are to go out of this life as 
spirits, and to dwell in a spiritual realm, I hold that it is 
reasonable to infer that the punishment of the future state is 
not material in any way whatever ; that it is a moral and 
spiritual punishment, following the transgression of law; 
that it consists in the reaction of the mind, by its own laws, 
on itself; that it is the being withdrawn from the Divine 
presence, and those fertilizing and joy-inspiring influences 
which come from personal communion with God. And this 
view takes away all that repulsiveness which we cannot but 
feel when the doctrine of a barbaric, bodily, material pun 
ishment is taught. As no man supposes that the streets of 
heaven are paved with gold because the Apocalypse rep 
resents them as being so paved, so we are not to suppose 
that the gross representations of hell which we find in the 


New Testament are to be taken literally. As no one sup 
poses that the symbols employed to give us some concep 
tion of the degree of joy in Heaven are meant to convey to 
us a conception of its kind, so we are to suppose that the 
symbolism which is given of hell is employed to represent 
the degree rather than the kind of unhappiness there. 



; OMANS BANKERS MAGAZINE contains a very 
interesting history of the celebrated John Law, 
the projector of the well-known Mississippi 
scheme, and the author of paper money in 
France. Law s life is almost like a romance. 
He was born in Edinburgh, in 1761. His father 
was both goldsmith and banker. Young Law entered into 
his father s business at the age of seventeen. He studied 
diligently the principles of banking. When his father died, 
he inherited his property, quit the business, and lived ex 
travagantly in London. Several years passed. Meantime 
he became a famous gambler. His success was astonishing. 
But reverses came, and close on the heels of them a duel, in 
which he killed his adversary. He narrowly escaped the 
gallows. He then wandered all over Europe, and was dis 
tinguished in all the chief cities as a bold adventurer and 
successful gamester. But still he devoted many of his hours 
to the study of financial affairs. He conceived a theory in 
reference to paper money, which he proposed to several 
potentates, for he kept high company. Amongst others, he 
made the acquaintance, in the gambling saloons of Paris, 
of the Duke of Orleans, who became a convert to his theory. 
The King, Louis XIV., died ; the Duke became Regent. He 
found France bankrupt, and knew not what to do. Law 
opportunely made his appearance, and proposed to the Re 
gent the scheme about which they had so often conversed. 
It was adopted. The results were startling. In the course 


of a year Law s notes rose to fifteen per cent, premium. He 
attracted the attention of the whole kingdom, and his credit 
rose from day to day. Branches of his bank were almost 
simultaneously established at Lyons, Rochelle, Tours, Ami 
ens, and Orleans. 

Cheered by success. Law commenced the famous project 
which has handed his name down to posterity. He estab 
lished, with the consent of the Regent, a company " that 
should have the exclusive privilege of trading to the great 
river Mississippi, and the province of Louisiana on its west 
ern bank. 7 The country was supposed to abound in pre 
cious metals. The capital was divided into 200,000 shares 
of 500 livres each. 

Law s bank had worked such financial miracles, that 
everybody expected the same dazzling success from the 
"Mississippi, scheme." The frenzy of speculation seized 
upon the nobles and upon the masses. Everybody, high 
and low, wanted the stock. Crowds of thousands upon 
thousands crowded Law s house to buy the stock. Dukes 
and duchesses would wait for hours for an audience. Men 
who were poor in the morning found themselves rich at 

But at length both of his schemes failed. France was 
thrown into a worse condition than ever. The people who 
had worshiped Law now became incensed against him. 
Those who had humbly craved audience of him now de 
manded his execution ; for ruin, and through his means, had 
fallen upon thousands. He quit Paris poor, when he might 
have amassed millions. He resumed his old occupation of 
gaming, and finally died in straitened circumstances. It 
seems that he was a sincere believer in his schemes, and 
attributed their failure to mismanagement. 



may be contended, and with much plausibility, 
that there exists no necessity of recurring to the 
theories respecting a former land connection be 
tween America, Europe and Asia, or the proof of 
the maritime enterprise of the ancients for colo 
nies may have reached our shore by the accidental drift of 
canoes and other vessels. This opinion is abundantly sup 
ported by well authenticated instances, most of which have 
been recorded, hence this subject has attracted attention. 
Diodorus relates that a Greek merchant, trading in Arabia, 
was seized by the Ethiopians, and having been placed in a 
boat and turned out to sea, was carried by the winds to 
Taprobane or Ceylon. In the time of Eudorus of Cyzicus, 
B. c. 146, an Indian was found in a boat on the Red Sea, who 
upon learning the Greek language, stated that he had 
sailed from India, and had been driven that distance by 
the wind. Pliny narrates that in the days of Quintius 
Metellus, some strange and savage people were driven 
upon the German coast, and sent by the Suevi to that gen 
eral. The discovery of America by the Northmen was 
accidental ; and Iceland was discovered A. D. 892, by some 
marines who were bound for the Faroe Islands, but were 
thrown out of the way by tempests. In 1684, several 
Esquimaux, driven out to sea in their canoes, were drifted, 
after a long continuance of boisterous weather, upon the 
Orkneys. It is related that a small vessel, bound from 
one of the Canary Islands to Teneriife, was forced out of 
her way by contrary winds, to within a short distance of 
Caraccas, where meeting an English ship, she was directed 
to one of the South American ports. 

In 1731 another bark, sailing from Teneriffe to one of the 
neighboring isles, drifted from her course, and was finally 
brought to Trinidad. Cabral, the commander of the Portu 
guese fleet, set out in the year 1500 to the East Indies, while 
prosecuting the voyage, departed so far from the African 
coast as to encounter the Western Continent ; and thus the 


discovery of Brazil was entirely accidental. In 1745, some 
vessels were forced out to sea, from Kamtschatka, to one of 
the Aleutian Islands a distance of several hundred miles. 
In 1789, Capt. Bright, his crew having mutinied and seized 
his ship while on the Pacific Ocean, was placed with 
eighteen men in a boat, provided only with a small quantity 
of provisions, and traveled 4,000 miles in forty-six days, 
succeeded finally in landing at Tima, in the East Indies. In 
1797, twelve negroes, escaping from an African slave-ship, 
took to a boat, and after five weeks, three of the number 
who had survived, were drifted ashore at Barbadoes. In 
1799, three men were driven out to sea by stress of weather 
from St. Helena, in a small boat, and two of them reached the 
coast of South America in a month one having perished on 
the voyage. In 1820, 150 inhabitants of Anna or Chain 
Island, situated 200 miles east of the Otaheite, having em 
barked in three canoes, encountered the monsoon. Two of 
the vessels were lost, but the occupants of the third, after 
being driven from island to island, and obtaining a scanty 
subsistence, were found 600 miles from their point of depart 
ure. Three natives of Otaheite, have been met on the island 
of Wateo, whither they had drifted in a canoe over 500 

In 1782, Capt. Inglefield of the Centaur, and eleven men, 
sailed upon the Atlantic Ocean 300 leagues, and in an 
open pinnace, without a compass, chart or sail, and were 
ultimately landed on Fayal. A native of Ulsa has been 
found on one of the coral isles of Radack, where he had 
arrived with two companions, after a long voyage of eight 
months, during which they had been driven by winds to 
the amazing distance of 1,500 miles. In 1786 several natives 
of. the Caroline Islands were carried by the winds and cur 
rent to the Philippine Islands, by which means that group 
first became known to Europeans. The Japanese are often 
accidentally thrown upon the Philippine Islands. In the 
year 1542, three Portuguese sailed from Siam in a junk, and 
were driven out of their course to within sight of Japan. 
In 1822, a Japanese junk was cast away on the American 
coast at Cape Flattery, and out of seventeen men only three 


were saved. In the same year eleven of the same nation 
were drifted to the Sandwich Islands. 

In 1721, thirty men, women and children were driven by 
bad weather from Earrioless to Gatiham, one of the Marian 
Isles, a space of 200 miles, and in 1696, a like number were 
carried from Ancorsa to Tamar, one of the Philippines, about 
eight hundred miles. In 1720, a large canoe, filled with 
natives, arrived at the Island of Maurua from Rututu, 500 
miles in a direct coarse. Subsequently, another from 
Otaheite, 600 miles ; two reached Taheite from Hao, of the 
existence of which place the Otaheitans were before ignor 
ant ; and the native missionaries traveling among the differ 
ent Pacific groups are continually meeting their countrymen 
who have been driven out to sea. 

Multitudes of these occurrences must have preceded the 
progress of modern discovery in the Atlantic and Pacific 
oceans, and consequently have happened without leaving 
any record or trace. Accumulated cases of this kind should 
be taken in connection with the fact that excepting Spitz- 
bergen and Nova Zembla to the north, Falkland and Fer- 
gueland s Island to the south, whose inhospitable climes 
forbid permanent habitation and subsistence, no considera- 
able extent of land has been found uninhabited, and that 
with the exception of St. Helena, the smallest islands capa 
ble of supporting a population, including nearly all the 
numerous islets of the Pacific, however distant from conti 
nents, have been discovered tenanted with human beings. 
Our race occupies islands and continents detached from the 
fountain-head of all human life, and pervades nearly every 
inhabitable spot of the globe. Thus widely has the earth 
been peopled in the early periods of society either by 
maritime nations or by barbarians destitute of those arts of 
civilization and that perfection in science which enable 
men to intrust their lives and property without danger to 
the ocean, and to pursue the path of discovery in confident 

It is impossible to attribute this extensive distribution 
this tide of population flowing from island to island, and 
from continent to continent entirely to the maritime abili- 


ties of former ages, and equally impossible in many cases to 
suppose a former land connection, as a means of solving the 
difficulty. Experience affords the only clue to this prob 
lem, and shows that by those adventitious causes which have 
always been in action since the beginning, man has found his 
way wherever his Maker lias prepared him an abode ; and 
that, in the language of a distinguished author: "Were 
the whole of mankind destroyed with the exception of one 
family, inhabiting an islet in the Pacific, their descendants, 
though never more enlightened than the South Sea Island 
ers, or Esquimaux, would in the course of ages be diffused 
over the whole world." 


R. President and Gentlemen : In support of 
the resolutions which I have just read, I ask 
your audience for a brief while. I am unwill 
ing that this assembly moved, as I know it is, 
by common emotions of sorrow should dis 
perse itself, without adding to these resolutions my very 
feeble, very humble, yet very earnest tribute of respect 
to the character and memory of our deceased friend. 

We have just received a most unwelcome visitation from 
that powerful, invisible, invincible destroyer, who is no 
respecter of persons, and before whose prowess all must 
bow. That foe to human kind that crusher of human 
hopes always eager to attack either revered age, vigorous 
manhood, or budding infancy yet himself more invulner 
able than superstition ever rendered Achilles has intruded 
his dark presence into our midst ; and a dutiful son, a prom 
ising youth, and a boon companion, has been suddenly 
torn from the parent s providence, from the scenes of busy 
life, and from the embrace of friends ! 

John Burbank, was born in Cherryfield, in the State of 
Maine, on the 6th day of April, 1814. In the year 1855, he 


arrived with his father s family in San Francisco. About 
one year ago he came to this city, where he has since 
resided. On the afternoon of Sunday, the 25th of March 
instant, at his father 1 s rooms, on B Street, in this city he 
expired suddenly, peacefully, and apparently without pain, 
in the twenty-first year of his age. 

My acquaintance with deceased extends back only a 
little more than two years, and therefore I can not speak 
with intelligence of his early boyhood ; but, from the first 
night of our introdiiction in San Francisco, at the rooms of 
the Pacific Lyceum, to which we, with others present, 
belonged, I have been quite intimate with him, and have 
been enabled to form a very fair, if not an entirely perfect 
conception of his character and disposition. And in sooth, 
how pure was that character ! how gentle that disposition ! 

Mr. President, I am not here to utter any idle panegyrics 
or blind eulogies. God forefend that I should here indulge 
in vain declamation ! God forefend that I should utter one 
syllable of praise over his body, now that he is dead, which 
would not have sprung spontaneously from my heart while 
he was yet with us in the flesh ! How often has Gray been 
answered in the negative ? 

" Can stoned urn or animated bust, 

Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? 
Can honor s voice provoke the silent dust ? 

Or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death ?" 

Sir, the bounds of truth need not be surpassed on this 

John Burbank was a young man of fair education having 
some knowledge of the classics. He was possessed of a 
strong, well-balanced mind. He was endowed with an intel 
lect whose flame burned, not brilliantly, yet steadily. His 
j udgment, considering his years, was quite mature. His 
attachments were warm ; he was of a quiet, sober tempera- 
merit, of good habits, and multum in parvo, through all 
the vicissitudes and perplexities of life, he "kept the even 
tenor of his way." I know of no enemy he possessed in 
deed, it would be difficult to point to his equal in that God- 


given quality of acquiring to one s self the undivided 
esteem of associates. The expression de mortuis nil nisi 
bonum would never be repeated were all like him. 

He had selected as his profession through life that noble 
one to which so many of us present are wedded, and bade 
fair to become in early manhood, a ready practitioner and a 
safe and sober counselor. But every plan has been disar 
ranged ; every earthly hope has been dashed ; every 
earthly wish ungratified ! His soul has departed ; his 
body is fast resolving into dust, and only the memory of 
his modest life and his radiant virtues is left us. 

Let us now repress, if possible, our own emotions, and place 
before our eyes the sad picture of a stricken family ! Let us 
look over and beyond the white sierras, eternal sentinels of 
two young States ! and list to the " choking sighs " of mother, 
sister, brother, weeping in an agony of grief for him who 
was just centering in his young person all their hopes and 
expectations, but who has died far away from them, and 
from home, upon the very threshold of manhood, and in a 
dry, a rugged, and a barren land. It was doubtles sobserved 
that one of the resolutions read seeks to express to that 
family our liveliest sympathies for them in their bereave 
ment, and is entitled to our cordial and unanimous indorse 
ment, Let us show to that afflicted family that our friend 
lived esteemed and died regretted by all who knew him. 

Mr. President, I can not resume my seat without refer 
ring to an expression which fell from the deceased a few 
days before his death. I met him within a few paces of 
the building in which the Judge, his father, holds his 
chambers, and where Death so lately held his. He was 
then unstricken by disease ; he was walking in the vigor 
of youth, and the flush of health triumphed upon his brow. 
Our conversation immediately turned upon the times and 
the prospects of our new State. Like many others, he was 
dissatisfied with both. He told me that he was going to 
leave this country he added that he was going to Mexico. 
He foresaw the magnitude, the importance, the dignity, the 
prosperity, the power, the wealth, the grandeur to which 
that poor, desolated Republic must some day attain. He 


saw that all the elements of empire lay unconcealed and 
unimproved within her embrace. He longed to go there ; 
there he wished to commence his career ; there he wished 
to wage the great battle of life, which, he thought, would 
be fought with comparative ease upon her broad arena, 
under those bright cerulean skies which bend over her like 
a banner of love. He felt toward that land the same senti 
ment which led the poet Browning to exclaim of Italy Oh, 
woman country ! " He also knew that 

" Stern Winter smiles on that auspicious clime, 
Her fields are florid with perennial prime ; 
From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow, 
Mold the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow, 
But from the breezy deep the blest inhale 
The fragant murmurs of the Western gale." 

Such was the country he intended to dwell in, and, after 
a prosperous and honorable career, he would willingly 
breathe out his life upon her soft, luxurious soil, beneath 
the undulating shadows of the palm and the date. 

Only one portion of his wise and w^ell-formed design was 
fulfilled. He did, really and solemnly, learn this country ; 
but, like Moses leading the hosts of Israel to the Land of 
Promise, he was destined never to reach that Canaan on 
which he had bent his hopes and set his heart. But the 
words of Shelley are true as they are immortal : Death, 
though a gate of dreariness and gloom, yet leads to azure 
isles and beaming skies, and happy regions of eternal 

And, therefore, sir, we may hope that our lost friend has 
reached a better and a happier land than that which he 
fixed upon for his earthly home ; a clime where the streams 
run clearer, and the waters are sweeter where the skies 
beam with unfailing and eternal brightness ! To that only 
happy land ; to that only oasis for the weary soul we 
trust thou hast fled, departed spirit ! So, good-bye, com 
rade ! Farewell, honest, upright, just and noble boy ! 
Farewell, boon companion ! Farewell, tried and trusted 
friend ! Peaceful and buoyant be thy pure spirit through- 


out eternity ! May God s love keep thee by his side 
forever ! 


is not a little singular that though the Ameri 
cans have had possession of the Alta Pimeria of 
the Spaniards since December, 1853. and which 
owes its foundation and mineral fame to the 
Jesuit explorer and traveler, Francisco Kino, 
not one correspondent of a California newspaper, 
writing from these parts, ever noticed, more than casually, 
his name. Padre Kino labored in Sonora as a Catholic 
priest, from 1687 to 1711. Not only is he known in relig 
ious chronicles as a light in the Spanisli Catholic Church, 
but he is equally celebrated in the cosmography, history, and 
astronomy of the times. To him was also owing the foun 
dation and settlement of Lower California, and he made 
great discoveries in the southern frontiers of Alta California, 
and once (in 1703) set out from the Sonora Missions to 
travel up by land to Monterey and Cape Mendocino, before 
a white man ever trod the interior ; but, unfortunately, he 
was turned back by fatigue, old age, and sickness, at the 
river Gila. 

Kino was born about the year 1641, at the ancient city of 
Trent, in German Italy. He studied at the University of 
Ingoldstadt, in the old electorate of Bavaria, under the Jesuit 
Henrico Shearer, well known in the literature of the times 
prior to 1700. After Kino s primary studies were finished, 
he entered the Catholic priesthood, and became a devout and 
ardent member of the Society of Jesus. This wonderfully 
zealous and active fraternity were then penetrating into 
every corner of the Christian and heathen world. Kirio was 
a man made to their hands, for not only was he devout, but 
he was learned, diligent, indefatigable ; with faculties keenly 
perceptive, and born to make his mark. In reality, he was 
a man of wonderful genius. 

In the beginning of the year 1711, Father Kino, or, as he 



was called, the Apostle of Sonora, at the age of seventy, 
came to the end of his life in one of the old Missions he 
founded. An intelligent native of Sonora, who had trav 
eled much in California and his own country, informed us, 
a short time ago, that his memory is still greatly revered 
among the Christian Indians and the decent people of 
Sonora, and that he was buried at the Mission church of 
San Antonio, in the pueblo of Aquitoa, which is situated in 


a valley about six miles from Altar. A monument is erected 
in the church to his memory. It is a little singular that no 
correspondent of any California newspaper has ever noticed 
this interesting fact, even as late as June, 1860 though 
several have noted their stopping-days at these very places. 
In Altar and Aquitoa are said to be still preserved many 
manuscripts of Kino, on the geography, languages, Indians, 
Missions, and history of Sonora. The surveys of Bartlett 
and Emory, and those of the Pacific Railroad, with the 


accounts of late newspaper correspondents from 1853 to 
1860, entirely confirm tlie faithful and far-seeing histories 
of the old Jesuit friar. 

Kino arrived in Mexico in 1680, when he was about thir 
ty-nine years old, and immediately entered into an animated 
discussion with Siguenza, the celebrated Indianologist and 
astronomer of the City of Mexico, whose works have been 
so much commented upon by Humboldt and later writers. 
This scientific contest was an analysis of the data of the great 
comet of 1680, which was then scaring the simple people of 
Mexico to death. From this, Kino passed in his zeal to the 
Missions of Upper Sonora and Alta Pimeria, now known as 
Arizona, or the Gadsden Purchase, where he arrived in 
1687. Between that time and the time of his death, in 1711, 
he not only built up and established the first Missions of 
Lower California, which he visited by sea more than once, 
but he commenced the foundation of nearly every import 
ant town, village, and Mission north and east of Hermosillo, 
and as far up as the river Gila. He established great num 
bers of Missions, and is stated to have baptized, with his 
own hands, not less than forty thousand Indians. His labors 
as an explorer and cosmographer were wonderful. It is 
he who first laid down on the maps the latitudes of the 
mouth of the Gila and the head of the Gulf of Cortez. His 
observations differ very little from those of Major Emory, 
in 1856-57. 

Kino made five expeditions to the countries of the Gila 
and the Colorado previous to 1707, besides extensive and 
fatiguing journeys into every part of Upper Sonora. His 
reports to the viceroy of Mexico, the king s ministers in 
Spain, and the generals and functionaries of the Jesuits, still 
exist in the archives of Mexico, Spain, Rome, and even 
France ; and are said, by Spanish writers prior to 1800, 
to have been exceedingly voluminous. That to Madrid 
made an immense volume, and laid the basis of the Spanish 
colonization policy of the Pacific countries as high up as 
Oregon. For in those days the Jesuits were rapidly ascend 
ing to the zenith ; their sun was powerful. The expulsion 
of their order from Spanish America had its great secret 

OF TH*^ 1 



moving pivot in their zealous efforts to prevent the Spanisli 
civilians and the military from making slaves of the Indian 
neophytes, to work in the Planclias de Plata and rich mines 
of Arizona and Sonora, which, about 1720-30, set all Mexico 
in a fury of avarice and money-getting. The Gambusinos 
gained the day, and from this then distant quarter of the 
world the ball was rounded, well hardened, and set in 
motion until the Jesuits were run out of Spanish America, 
in 1767, by judge, miner, soldier, and gambler materially 
assisted by their jealous brethren, the Franciscans, Domini 
cans, and Augustins, and the varied classes of the Mexican 
Fraylayria, now having their turn in I860. 8. F. Bul 
letin, August 21, 1860. 


SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA constitutes one vast garden, cut 
up into a world of Edens. The ecstatic heart spontaneously 
exults at its glowing magnificence, and glories at the pros 
pects of its future existence. It is no wonder that the inhab 
itants of this gorgeous country repose in the lap of content 
ment, and that many believe that "the spirit of God per 
vades the very atmosphere," and "Zion on the tops of the 
mountains is nearer heaven than other parts of the earth ;" 
this latter quotation being a little Mormon in its general 
tenor, but strictly applicable to the great majority of the 
early American settlers of Los Angeles and San Bernardino 
valleys. Look at the mountain ranges of this charming 
country, tumbling with delightful irregularity one upon 
another, and looking frowningly upon the detached spurs 
that rise majestically above the highest points of the mother 
range. Look at their horny heads, enveloped in a dreamy 
haze, and at intervals sharply silhouetted by a gorgeous 
sweep of sunshine, and exhibiting, in fantastic shapes their 
tilted-up strata, ragged edges, rugged sides and somber 
brows, the whole standing out with that phase of intoxicat 
ing sublimity of which the sense of grandeur and immensity 
is the principal element. Look also at the sparkling rivers 


dashing down their brown flanks, and meandering through 
the foot-hills till lost in the valley of emerald, azure and gold 
below. Eastern people know nothing of this paradise of the 
Occident ; and our own people lack information regarding 
this portion of the Pacific territory of the United States. 
The eastern traveler, who makes the overland trip even, 
generally terminates bis tour at San Francisco. He may 
visit the Geysers, or the Yosemite, for pleasure ; but he finds 
no time to extend his journey into Southern California ; and 
the country of the vine, and the orange, and the fig, and the 
olive, and the whole catalogue of tropical productions 
nearly, find feAV chapters in the multiplicity of books that 
have been written upon the "Land of Gold." This is also 
the case with the emigrant and professional seeker after 
occidental homes. Infatuated with the glitter of the tales 
of gold, the fortune-hunters depart for the mines, little 
dreaming of their precariousness and the bitter toil in store. 
Nine out of every ten miners and prospectors eke out an 
unhappy and unwholesome life, with no intellectual recrea 
tive pastime, and finally terminate their existence in a mis 
erable or violent death. Cor. S. F. Bulletin, Sept., 1867. 


ROF. WHITNEY S, lecture, Thursday evening, 
before the Legislature, in the Assembly Cham 
ber, was quite long and interesting. He spoke 
of the vast scope of geology how it deals with 
every variety of organic and inorganic matter, 
and how mathematical and other sciences are pressed into 
its service. The ancients noticed the occurrence of marine 
shells on high lands, and the elevations and depressions of 
the earth. They wondered thereat, and sought the cause. 
This was the first study of geology. Ovid seems to have 
had an elementary idea of the organic changes ; and at a 
later period, Aristotle appears to have had an intimate ac- 


quaintance with all the changing cycles of the earth. Italy 
was the cradle of geological study. The ancients stuck 
upon the question whether fossils were originated by plas 
tic force and mere sports of nature, or whether they were 
really fossils or organic remains. Bitter discussions arose 
"between the t\vo parties holding to these contrary views- 
discussions bitter as any theological or political partisan 
controversies of our own day. But little further progress 
was made until a quite recent date, when it was determined 
that facts were needed upon which to found a firm geologi 
cal structure. This was but fifty years ago. Then the Lon 
don Geological Society came to this conclusion ; and the 
advance from then till now has been really wonderful. The 
growth of other sciences has also materially aided this 
astronomy, for instance. It has enabled us to ascertain the 
form, weight, &c., of this planet. 

The earth was in the beginning in a state of fluidity. It 
must have been softened by heat. As you go down toward 
its center the temperature rises, and when you reach a suf 
ficient depth you meet hot water. As a general average 
rule, the temperature increases one degree Fahrenheit to 
every sixty feet as you descend into the earth. The great 
est depth yet attained by miners in the earth is from 2,000 
to 2,500 feet below the surface. The deepest artesian well 
in the world is 2,300 feet deep, when hot water was met. 
This plainly shows that the source of heat lies in the center 
of the earth. Volcanoes and earthquakes also prove this, 
the former being the vents for gases generated by interior 

For the past five or six years volcanoes and earthquakes 
have attracted much attention among geologists. California 
is not in the region of heavy shocks, although in building 
houses it would be well to make them substantial enough 
not to fall down before they are finished. Earthquakes 
always have a wave-like motion. Throw a pebble into a 
pond, and a wavy, gradually increasing circle is formed. 
The motion imparted to the water, although it appears to be 
lateral, is really perpendicular. The great Lisbon earth 
quake was precisely like one of these circle-waves. Its in- 


fluence was felt not only in Northern Europe, "but in the 
Antilles and North America extending over one-thirteenth 
of the earth s surface, and traveling at the rate of 1,650 feet 
per second. Prior to the year 1300, the number of recorded 
earthquakes experienced in the world was 387. From that 
time until 1800, there were 2,814 ; from then until 1850, 
there were 3,840 ; and from 1850 until 1858, there were no 
less than 4, 620 ! This, however, must not be supposed to 
be the real only the recorded increase. From the record 
of Dr. Trask, California averages from three to fourteen 
earthquakes per annum. No human life, however, has 
ever thus been destroyed, except in one instance in Califor 
nia, and that was during the earthquake that in 1812 threw 
down the church of the Mission of San Luis Obispo, and 
killed thirty or forty persons. The Sierras at a recent geo 
logical period were formed by upheaval ; they are part of 
that great chain of volcanic mountains stretching from Cape 
Horn to Behring s Straits, which furnishes the most extra 
ordinary displays of the workings of the vast central fires 
of the earth. Chile, Bolivia, Peru, Central America, and 
Mexico, are the present fields of active volcanic agency. In 
Chile, there are no less than thirty vents vomiting forth flame 
and cinders and lava. Here the power is dormant, the tre 
mendous convulsions which have torn up California took 
place at the close of the tertiary epoch, before the race of 
man appeared upon the scene. Then it was that the aurif 
erous detritus in the river beds was covered over with pum 
ice, the bones of the elephant, mastodon, and the original 

When the great mass of heated matter was cooling, by 
contraction the smooth surface became wrinkled, and thus 
the mountains and valleys were formed. It is by the reac 
tion of the molten interior of the earth against the colder 
crust that earthquakes are caused, it has been a matter of 
much inquiry whether the same effects were produced upon 
this interior fluid mass as upon the ocean by the moon 
whether there were tidal changes. And it has been demon 
strated by recorded experience that there are very many 
more earthquakes occurring at the moon s full, than at her 


quarter. They are also more frequent when she is closest to 
the earth. The moon s surface is a remarkable volcanic one. 
Looking through a powerful telescope you will see what are 
called the ring mountains, some of which are one hundred 
and fifty miles around. These are immense shells craters 
of great depth. In some of these craters you will see small 
mountains rising up in the center. The moon s mountains 
are, some of them, much loftier than any upon the earth s 
surface, yet the earth has four times a larger diameter than 
her satellite. The moon has evidently cooled down from a 
state of igneous fluidity. The greatest analogy exists be 
tween her extinct volcanic craters and Mauna Loa (Sand 
wich Islands), now so active. But nowhere upon earth, 
save perhaps in Iceland, are scenes of such inanimate, hope 
less desolation as upon the moon s surface. It is completely 
"played out." Never again will volcanic fires burn there. 
They are exhausted. There does not appear to be a drop 
of water in the moon. And without these two agencies it 
must forever be the same as now. Nor can we imagine any 
class of life that can be living there. 

Fire and water are the great laborers who work the eter 
nal changes. The internal fires throw up mountains. The 
mountain streams slowly, patiently, but surely carry them 
down again through the great rivers to the ocean, upon 
whose bottom the sedimentary deposits rest until upheaved 
again, to be again torn down. Thus the cycles of changes 
march on, and the various stratifications are formed for 
ever at work ; destruction here, re-formation there, and vice 
versa. By earthquakes the astonishing mile-deep gorges 
of the Colorado were formed, and other peculiar features of 
the earth. 

There are three orders of sandstones, which are those of 
the beginning, the middle, and the end. It is in these that 
the fossilized remains of organic life are found, and their 
development of the regular order of beings is astonishing. 
In the sandstone of Pennsylvania are to be found the re 
mains of gigantic frogs, and the imprint of feet of enormous 
birds. The frogs of that day fulfilled the fable of swelling 
to the size of an ox. In another order of sandstone is found 


the stage of conglomerate life, where bird, fish, and reptile 
were in one. Geology lias shown that life had a beginning 
that there was a moment in the processes of creation when 
the fiat went forth, "Let there be life." But for geology 
there would have been no evidence but that life had always 
been the same as now. It has been demonstrated that life 
lias been progressive from the azoic epoch until now from 
the lowest zoophyte to the highest order of man. The sand 
stones have revealed this. First there were the mollusca, 
then the fish, then half fish and reptile, then the huge fish, 
then the mammalia. From the opossum it runs up to the 
highest order of mammals. Here we have an animal part 
horse, part camel, part giraffe, part hippopotamus. Thus 
the order of progression runs np to man, the highest of all. 
As in life, a man is born, reaches his meridian, and dies ; 
so with species and genera ; otherwise we can not account 
for their extinction. 

For the past two years the attention of the geological 
world has been excited by discoveries in Egypt by French 
and German explorers. Works of art had been exhumed, 
that had been buried over 5,000 years, showing that at that 
time a high stage of civilization had been attained by man. 
Under the auspices of the London Geological Society, ex 
perimental explorations have been carried on in the Nile 
Valley that have led to startling discoveries. Upon the 
banks of the Nile it was found that deposits were made 
some 4 inches deep, in one thousand years. Borings were 
commenced, in the course of which great quantities of works 
of art were found at a great depth ; and it was clearly shown 
by the layers, that they had been there over 10,000 years. 
These showed, too, that at that time civilization had won 
derfully advanced ; showing, too, that the 10,000 years was 
as nothing compared with the back date of the early stages 
of man s existence. 

In Europe, which has been more explored than any coun 
try by geologists, the ages of man upon earth are divided 
into three the stone, the bronze, and the iron ages. These 
indicate the growth of civilization. It has been shown that 
man was contemporaneous with the mastodon. In 1858, 


Falconer found in a cave in Devonshire, England, instru 
ments of labor, with bones of extinct animals. Ten years 
before that, Buclie had found, near Amiens, in France, 
human bones in the same diluvium stratum in which were 
found the bones of the mastodon. He wrote a book upon the 
subject, .which, to the shame of science be it said, attract 
ed no attention until after Falconer s discovery. In 1859, 
however, it attracted the attention it deserved. Geologists 
went to the spot in France indicated, and dug up, from a 
layer that had never been disturbed, the bones of man, 
mammoth, rhinoceros, and some animals that had been ex 
tinct since the commencement of the historical epoch. The 
English Channel was not then in existence, as in those times 
they could walk across from England into France. Yet 
1,900 years ago the English Channel was much as it now is. 
It was then crossed by Julius Csesar in vessels. What an 
immensity of time then must have transpired since the 
waters first commenced to wash between the two countries ! 
How long a time must have elapsed since the bones recently 
found in France and Devonshire (indicating this great age), 
were clothed with flesh and muscles ! Ten thousand years 
would be a small fraction of it ! S. F. Bulletin. 


From the Alta Californian, June 15, 1866. 


iWENTY years ago, the Bear Flag was hoisted 
in Sonoma as a symbol of revolt against Mexico, 
and on the same day a proclamation was issued 
by William B. Ide, commander of the party, in 
which he gave the reasons of the movement, and 
declared that the Americans in the territory had 
been "threatened by proclamation from the chief officer of 
the aforesaid military despotism (the Government of Califor 
nia), with extermination if they would not depart out of the 
country, leaving all their property, arms, and beasts of bur 
den." This was a great mistake on the part of Ide and his 
friends. The authorities of California had issued no such proc- 


larnation, nor was sucli a matter thought of. At this very time 
the leading native Californians, as a class, under the advice 
and influence of Thomas 0. Larkin, with the co-operation 
of Leese, Robinson, Stearns, arid Hill, were inclined to favor 
annexation to the United States. Numerous consultations 
had been held with high officers on the subject, and a con 
vention had been called to take some decisive action. 
Every thing appeared to indicate the success of Larkin s 
negotiations, when Fremont arrived, insulted and defied the 
authorities, alarmed and irritated the Americans in the Sacra 
mento Valley, and thus led to the outbreak of the Bear Flag 
party, which very much increased the difficulty of the Amer 
ican conquest. Fremont has been called the conqueror of 
California, but we are satisfied that a careful examination of 
the facts will show that his imprudence greatly increased 
the bitterness of the native Californians against the Ameri 
cans, as his disobedience to his superiors afterward led to 
his dismissal from the army. We publish a couple of docu 
ments which relate to Fremont s conduct, and have never 
been in print hitherto. The first is a letter from Fremont to 
Dolores Pacheco, Alcalde of San Jose, in which he refuses 
to appear before the authorities of the country to answer a 
claim to the ownership of some horses in his possession, and 
he further says the claimant ought to consider himself 
lucky for being allowed to leave the American camp with 
out a horsewhipping. Such language from an alien is 
beyond all the bounds of propriety, and we can not be 
astonished when we see that, very soon afterward, Don 
Manuel Castro, the Prefect of San Jose, ordered him to 
leave the territory. Instead of complying, Fremont forti 
fied himself, and declared that he would fight to the last, 
and would give no quarter. He took no advice from 
Larkin, the accredited and confidential agent of the Govern 
ment, and his tone toward the natives was so harsh that 
there was no opportunity for compromise. The indirect re 
sult of his conduct was the Bear Flag insurrection, which 
held power in Sonoma from the 15th of June to the llth of 
July. The movement was so bold, its military operations 
were so well managed, the individual conduct and character 


of its members were so exemplary, their services in Hie war 
were so valuable, and their flag was superseded so soon by 
the Stars and Stripes, that the serious error of judgment 
committed in the movement, and its injurious influences on 
the political negotiations then in progress, have been over 
looked by nearly all who have written about the history of 
the country. 


BELOW we publish a couple of documents, never before 
in print, relating to the beginning of the troubles which led 
to the Bear Flag insurrection in 1846 : 


February 21, 1846. 

SIR : I received your communication of the 20th, inform 
ing me that a complaint had been lodged against me in your 
office for refusing to deliver up certain animals of my band, 
which are claimed as having been stolen from this vicinity 
about two montlis since ; and that the plaintiff further com 
plains of having been insulted in my camp. 

It can be proven on oath by thirty men here present, that 
the animal pointed out by the plaintiff has been brought in 
my band from the United States of North America. The 
insult of which he complains, and which was authorized by 
myself, consisted in his being ordered immediately to leave 
the camp. After having been detected in endeavoring to 
obtain animals under false pretenses, he should have been 
well satisfied to escape without a severe horsewhipping. 

There are four animals in my band which were bartered 
from the Tulare Indians by a division of my part} 7 which 
descended the San Joaquin Valley. I was not there present, 
and if any more legal owners present themselves, these 
shall be immediately delivered upon proving property. It 
may save some trouble to inform you that, with this excep 
tion, all the animals in my band have been purchased and 
paid for. Any further communications on this subject will 
not, therefore, receive attention. You will readily under- 


stand that my duties will not permit me to appear before 
the magistrates of your towns on the complaint of every 
straggling vagabond who may chance to visit my camp. 
You inform me that unless satisfaction be immediately 
made by the delivery of the animals in question, the com 
plaint will be forwarded to the Governor. I would beg 
you at the same time to inclose to his Excellency a copy of 
this note. 

I am, very respectfully, 

Your obedient servant, 

J. C. FREMONT, U. S. Army. 
To SB. DON DOLORES PACHECO (Alcalde of San Jose). 



MONTEREY, March 5, 1846. 

I have learned with much dissatisfaction that, in contempt 
>f the laws and authorities of the Mexican Republic, you 
ive entered the towns of the district under my charge, 
r ith an armed force, which the Government of your nation 
lust have placed under your command for the sole purpose 
>f examining its own territory. That this Prefecture orders 
immediately on the receipt of this communication, to 
iturn with your party beyond the limits of this department, 
r ith the understanding that if you do not comply, this 
refecture will take the measures necessary to compel you 
respect this determination. God and Liberty. 





iHE records of the different missions in Califor 
nia, from the time of the founding of the first 
one in 1769 down to the year 1800, make no 
mention of earthquakes, from which we may 
reasonably infer that during that time a period 
of thirty-one years no serious phenomena of 
that kind occurred. In the latter year the first evidence of 
an earthquake shock is recorded as having occurred in San 
Juan Bautista on the llth of October, and on the 18th of 
the same month another shock is recorded as occurring at 
supper-time, which was folloAved by still another at eleven 
o clock the same night. The next record is found in the 
annals of the Presidio at San Francisco, where twenty-one 
shocks of earthquake are mentioned as occurring between 
the 21st of June and the 17th of July, 1808. From this 
time until 1812, nothing more is said of earthquakes in the 
records, nor has it been possible to obtain information 
from old residents showing that any shocks worthy of 
mention were felt. It was in the month of September of 
that year (1812) that the great California earthquake oc 
curred, and the only one that is known to have resulted in 
loss of life. This earthquake destroyed the mission of San 
Juan Capistrano, in Los Angeles County, and the mission 
of Ptirissima (Viejo), in Santa Barbara County, the two 
missions being one hundred and seventy miles apart, and 
caused loss of life. The history of the event, as related by 
persons who witnessed it, is as follows : 

The day was clear and uncommonly warm ; it being 
Sunday, the people had assembled at San Juan Capistrano 
for evening service. About half an hour after the opening 
of service, an unusual loud, but distant rushing sound was 
heard in the atmosphere to the east and also over the 
water, which resembled the sound of strong wind ; but as 
it approached, no perceptible breeze accompanied it. The 


sea was smooth and the air was calm. So distinct and 
loud was this atmospheric sound that several left the build 
ing attracted "by its noise. 

Immediately following the sound, the first and heaviest 
shock of the earthquake occurred, which was sufficiently 
severe to prostrate the mission church of San Capistrano 
almost in a body, burying in its ruins the most of those 
who remained behind, after the first indication of its ap 
proach was heard. The shock was very sudden and al 
most without warning, save from the rushing sound above 
noted, and to the severity of the first shock at that moment 
is to be attributed the loss of life that followed. . 

The number reported to have been killed outright is 
variously estimated from thirty to forty -five (the largest 
number of persons agree on the smallest number of deaths 
given), but in the absence of records such statements 
should be received with many grains of allowance, where 
memory alone is the only means left, and the term of forty- 
three years has elapsed before the period at which this ac 
count was placed on paper. A considerable number are 
reported to have been badly injured. There is a universal 
agreement on this point with those from whom these facts 
were derived, viz. : that the first shock threw down the 
entire building, and that a large number of persons were 
in it at that moment, and under the circumstances it would 
be most singular if no deaths were caused by such an 

The motion of the earth is described as having lifted 
vertically, attended by a rotary movement. No undulato- 
ry motion is described by any one. Dizziness and nausea 
seized almost every person in the vicinity. A heavy, loud, 
deep rumbling accompanied the successive shocks that 
followed, which were five in number, all having the motion 
above described, though comparatively light in their effects 
to the first. The sounds attending the phenomena came 
apparently from the south and east. 

In the valley of San Inez, to the south and west of Santa 
Barbara, the church now known as the Mission Viejo 1 
(La Purissima), was also completely destroyed. At this 


locality there were also a number of lives lost, but what 
number is as yet very uncertain. 

The shock which destroyed this building occurred about 
one hour after the former, and the greater portion of the 
inhabitants had left the building but a few minutes before 
it fell, service having closed. The first shock felt here 
prostrated the building, as in the preceding case. 

A Spanish ship, which lay at anchor off San Buenaven 
tura, thirty-eight miles from Santa Barbara, was much in 
jured by the shock, and leaked to that extent that it 
became necessary to beach her and remove most of her 

It is an interesting fact, and at the same time somewhat 
remarkable, that the time which elapsed between the ad 
vent of the shocks at Capistrano and San Inez is widely 
variant from what we should look for, when the distance 
apart and velocity of motion in earthquakes are taken into 

The effect of this earthquake on the sea in the bay of 
Santa Barbara is described as follows: "The sea was ob 
served to recede from the shore daring the continuance of 
the shocks, and left the latter dry for a considerable 
distance, when it returned in five or six heavy rollers, 
which overflowed the plain on which Santa Barbara is 
built. The inhabitants saw the recession of the sea, and 
being aware of the danger on its return, fled to the adjoin 
ing hills near the town to escape the probable deluge. The 
sea on its return flowed inland a little more than half a 
mile, and reached the lower part of the town, doing but 
little damage, destroying only three small adobe build 

In the month of May preceding this great earthquake the 
southern part of the State was frequently agitated by shocks 
of greater or less severity, which continued to occur almost 
daily through the whole period from that time till the great 
shock in September. As many as thirty shocks are alleged 
to have been felt in a single day, and they became so fre 
quent as to alarm the inhabitants of Santa Barbara County, 


who abandoned their houses and lived under trees and 
slept out of doors. 

With regard to the destruction of the Mission buildings 
by the great earthquake above recorded, it furnishes but 
a poor guide in estimating the force of the shocks, for the 
buildings of that period were probably very slimly con 
structed compared with similar structures at the present, 
although the church at San Juan Capistrano is stated to 
have been "a well built affair of stone and cement." The 
destruction of the church appears to have been due mainly 
to the falling of the cupola or steeple. 

From 1812 to 1850 the archives of the State are silent on 
the subject of earthquakes, and although shocks were doubt 
less felt as frequently as since that time, yet they were so 
slight as to be deemed unworthy of public record. 

In the year 1850 there were five shocks, in the State, 
of which three were felt in this city. 

In 1851 there was six shocks, three of which were felt 
in San Francisco, and the first of which, occurring on the 
15th of May, was quite severe, breaking window glass and 
severely shaking buildings. The same day there was was 
an eruption of Mauna Loa, in the Sandwich Islands. 

In 1852 there was a series of heavy shocks in the lower 
part of the State, commencing on the 26th of November, 
and lasting several days. There were, also, repeated shocks 
all through the month of December, in the southern arid 
middle portions of the State. 

In 1853 there was fifteen shocks in the State, of which 
four were felt in this city, viz. : January 2d, March 1st, 
November 21st and December llth. On the 25th of 
October of the same year three heavy shocks were felt 
at Humboldt Bay. 

In 1854 there were twelve shocks in the State, of which 
two were felt in this city the first on the 2d of March 
and the second on the 26th of October. The heaviest shock 
of this year was felt at Santa Barbara, May 31st, which was 
accompanied by heavy rumbling and loud noise, but did 
no damage. 


In 1855 there were eleven shocks, only two of which 
were felt in this city. 

In 1856 there were fifteen shocks in the State, of which 
seven were felt in San Francisco. The heaviest was on 
February 15th, at five and a half o clock in the morning, and 
continued eight seconds. The first and principal shock was 
followed by another, scarely perceptible. Considerable 
damage was done, and the upper part of a poorly con 
structed building on Battery Street was thrown down. The 
shock was preceded by a heavy rumbling noise, and the 
motion was from northwest to southeast. 

1857 there were seventeen shocks in the State, six of 
which were felt in this city. The most important was the 
shock, or series of shocks, that commenced about half- past 
eleven o clock on the night of January 8th, and continued 
until a little past eight o clock the following morning there 
being six shocks during the interval. No serious damage 
was done. The next in importance occurred on the 2d of 
September, and was felt over an extent of two hundred 
miles. Of the seventeen shocks during the year, ten 
occurred in the autumn and winter, and seven in the spring 
and summer. 

In 1858 there were eight shocks in the State, of which five 
were felt in this city. They were all comparatively light, 
except the one felt here a little past midnight of the 26th of 
November. The shock was confined to an area of ten or 
twelve miles from the city, and was productive of no seri 
ous damage, although it awoke most of our citizens from 
their slumbers and caused them to spend a sleepless 

In 1859 the shocks numbered eight altogether, five of 
which were felt in this city. None of them were heavy or 
worthy of particular mention. 

1860 only three shocks were felt throughout the State. 
San Francisco was favored with only one, which occurred 
on the morning of the 21st of December, and manifested 
itself in the form of a series of light vibrations or quivers, 
that continued through a period of half an hour. 

In 1861 there was only one earthquake in California, and 


this occurred in San Francisco, at a quarter past eleven of 
the 4th of July. It was called a severe shock, but did no 

In 1862 only two shocks are recorded in the State, both 
of which were felt in this city, and are designated as " smart 

In 1863 there were five shocks, of which four were felt 
in this city one each in the months of June, July, August, 
and December. The last was the heaviest ; but none of 
them were productive of any damage. 

It appears from the above record that the number of 
earthquakes felt in the State from 1850 to the close of 1863 
was one hundred and ten. The greatest number occurred 
in the month of January, and the least in the months of 
February and April ; thirty-four occurred in the winter 
months, twenty-three in the summer months, twenty-four 
in the spring months, and twenty-nine in the autumn 
months. The number of shocks between the autumnal and 
vernal equinoxes was sixty-four, between the vernal and 
autumnal equinoxes fifty-two. Dr. Trash. 


OST persons are familiar with the facts in refer 
ence to the names of the days of the week, 
and yet there may be some who are riot able 
to account for the order in which they occur. 

The division of time into weeks was proba 
bly first made by the Chaldeans ; and the general order, 
as adopted by this ancient people, has existed to the 
present time. 

According to the Ptolemaic system, there are seven plan 
ets which revolve around the earth in the following order of 
distances, beginning at the most remote : Saturn, Jupiter, 
Mars, Sun, Venus,. Mercury, Moon. 
The day being divided into twenty -four hours, and each 


hour, by turns, being devoted in theory to one or another, 
in regular order, of the divinities which ruled the planets, 
the present order of days was necessary, in order to keep 
up an uninterrupted succession. 

Saturn, or Saturday, was the first day of the week, the 
first hour of which was also devoted to Saturn, the second 
hour to Jupiter, the third to Mars, the fourth to Sun, the 
fifth to Venus, the sixth to Mercury, and the seventh to 
Moon. The eighth was in regular succession devoted to Sa 
turn, so also the fifteenth and twenty -second ; the twenty - 
third to Jupiter, the twenty -fourth to Mars ; and the first 
hour of the second day to Sun hence the day is called 
Sunday. By continuing the same order, Sun answers to 
the eighth, fifteenth and twenty- second ; the twenty -third 
is Venus, the twenty-fourth Mercury, and the first hour of 
the third is Moon, hence Moonday or Monday. 

Moon answers to the eighth, fifteenth or twenty-second 
hours ; the twenty-third to Saturn ; the twenty-fourth to 
Jupiter ; the first hour of the fourth day is Mars Saxon, 
Tuisco or Tig, hence Tuesday. 

The first hour of the fifth day, by the same succession, 
will be Mercury Saxon, Wodeno, hence Wednesday. The 
order gives the first hour of the sixth day to Jupiter, the 
Saxon Thor, hence Thursday. Friday, likewise, gives its 
first hour to Venus Saxon,. Frigge. 

The result may be conveniently grouped in the following 
tabular form : 

Saturn 1 8 15 22 Jupiter Mars 24 

Sun 1 8 15 22 Venus Mercury 24 

Moon 1 8 15 22 Saturn Jupiter 24 

Mars 1 8 15 22 Sun, Venus 24 

Mercury . . 1 8 15 22 Moon Saturn 24 

Jupiter 1 8 15 22 Mars Sun 24 

Venus 1 8 15 22 Mercury. . ..Moon 24 



JFTER the trial of the late Potosi vs. Bajazette 
and Golden Era mining suit, the Potosi Com 
pany, in whose favor the jury brought in a ver 
dict, gave a grand dinner at Barnum s Hotel. 
C Street, to the jury and counsel. As there 
has been much talk about this dinner, and as the curiosity 
of the public is still much excited on the subject, we have 
taken the pains to procure the bill of fare on the occasion, 
which we here present to our readers : 


Primary SOUPS. 
Ox-yd and Dry-bone. 
Secondary ROASTS. 

Ophir Horse. Porphyry. 

Hornblende. Greenston. 

Granite. Serpentine. 

Tertiary BOILED. 

Feldspar. Amygdaloid. 

Casing, caper sauce. Dumps. 

Corned feeders and cabbaged waste rock. 

Post- Tertiary ENTREES. 

Vein matter a la mode. 

Black dyke scrambled. 

Black dyke deviled, with injunction sauce. 

Stopes, stewed with calcareous tufa. 

Traverse section, with cleavage jelly. 

Breast Bajazette, family style. 

Seventh level hash. 

Poached silex and pickled adits. 

Stratifications, Mexican style. 

Cuts breaded, and Black Dyke in onions. 

Eastern wall Curry. 

Auriferous conglomerate, intercolated. 

Lateral heaves, in casing. 



Clay seams, in rebuttal. 

Friable nodules, in borax. 

Hot Bajazette cakes, with Golden Era sirup. 

Carboniferous -VEGETABLES. 

Bromids. lodids. 

Chlorids. Oxyds. 

Sulphurets. Selenurets. 

Arseniurets. Tellurets. 

A lluv ial PASTRY. 

Magnetic py-rites. Cuss t hard py-rites. 

Iron py-rites. Copper py-rites. 

Crop-course, cream. Float rock. 

Plumbago pudding, with southern dip. 


Assessments on the half-shell. 
Dividends, over the left. 


Old Potosi. Ale & Norcross. 

Hide-sack. Santa Rita. 

Chamber-tin. Cheat- em de Fraud. 

The dinner lasted some eight hours, and certainly was the 
most sumptuous "spread" ever seen in Washoe. Vir 
ginia^ Nev. Enterprise, 1864. 


\T is supposed by some that the metals were 
formed or deposited in some past age of the 
world by the agency either of heat or water, 
during some great convulsions of nature such, 
as have not been witnessed in the period em 
braced by written history or tradition. There 
are reasons for doubting the reliability of this opinion. 
That various mineral substances are now in process of 
formation or development is certain. For instance, the 


formation of stone is as apparent as its disintegration. On 
the beach at Lynn, Massachusetts, may be seen a conglom 
erate of clay and silicious sand impregnated with ferrous 
oxide, in all stages, from the separated particles to the lay 
ers of hardened rock. These rocks are merely the particles 
of sand cohered and agglutinated by means of the clay and 
the oxide of iron, the salt water acting as a solvent of the 
softer particles and the sun s rays compacting and baking 
all together in one mass. So, also, we know that coal is 
being formed from peat, The intermediate stage is lignite 
or "brown coal," which in turn becomes coal. 

It is morally certain that gold, silver, copper, and some 
other metals are now in process of formation or deposition. 
Abandoned silver mines in Peru have been found rich in 
arborescent deposits of the metal on the walls of galleries 
unused for many years. A gold-bearing region, after hav 
ing been cleaned of the precious metal, gives good results 
after the lapse of only a few years. So with copper. In 
the Siberian mines, not only the precious carbonate known 
as malachite, but the metal itself, in a state of almost abso 
lute purity, is deposited on the walls, roofs, and floors of 
galleries run under the earth s surface. In some places it 
appears in masses and in others as tree-like formations, with 
trunk and branches similar to a delicate moss. 

What becomes of all the gold and silver unavoidably 
wasted in the process of manufacture and the wear of trans 
mission from hand to hand as currency \ It is well known 
that with all the care exercised in the manufacture of these 
precious metals, and notwithstanding their specific gravity, 
an appreciable portion of them is utterly wasted ; at least 
so distributed as to be incapable of being collected and used 
again. Is it annihilated \ The teachings of science prove 
this to be impossible. Nothing is ever wasted. If the par 
ticles are thrown into the atmosphere, they must in time 
seek the earth s surface. Are they attracted by some 
unknown power to certain localities, and if not, why should 
not the streets of a busy city become in time deposits of the 
precious metals ? 

Perhaps, after all, the old alchemists had an inspiration 


of what may yet become un fait accompli. When we 
understand the wonderful processes of nature s laboratory 
we may possibly imitate her, and grow our own metals as 
we now do our own vegetables ; or we may find the philos 
opher s stone and actually collect the particles of metals, 
if we can not transmute a base mineral into one of the 
precious metals. Scientific American. 


R. BENTON said instead of choosing one of the 
scented and painted wax- tapers of the legal 
profession, which were never lighted but upon 
special occasions, the Faculty had chosen to dip 
into the candle-box in common use and take out 
an adamantine, such as they were used to burn every week 
of the year. The Faculty had chosen him, however, and 
though he doubted the wisdom of their choice, he would 
give such light as he could. He said he would save them 
trouble by telling them his subject before he began. It 
was : Empire, or some of tlie Problems of Mankind. The 
world w as made for man, and not man for the world. The 
world, studied in this light, leads to science ; in any other 
light, to sciolism. 

The world was so made for man that it was intended to be 
in subjection to him. All right-minded persons respect that 
venerable authority which assigns to man dominion over 
air, earth and sea. Legitimately, and theoretically, man is 
lord of the world. It is his asserted privilege and right. 
But, as yet, this is only a predicament of the possible. The 
prerogative has been very imperfectly maintained. Begin 
ning frequently with the rudest forms, the attempt to main 
tain the prerogative has been the grand struggle of the 
ages. He said the desire for dominion naturally concerned 
itself with his subject. He spoke .of the old dream of 


empire, and the five more noted empires of ancient history, 
each illustrating some dominant truth or law. The empires 
of the Assyrians, Babylonians, and Chaldeans, for instance, 
represented the idea of absolutism both in war and peace 
the monarch being regarded as the owner of his empire, 
all its land, all its property, all its men, and all their 
powers. The empire of the Medes and Persians represents 
the idea of destination, the unalterable frame of things- 
legalities and institutions stereotyped, the unalterable sacred- 
ness of what has been. The Grecian empire represents the 
idea of culture, beauty and satisfaction to be obtained 
through game, exploit, development, art, and generous 
training, and even war as an art. The Eoman empire rep 
resents the idea of power asserting itself magnificently, 
in structures of conquest, laws, institutions, cities, aque 
ducts, roads, and other structures. The Chinese empire 
represents conservatism ; the notion that perfection has been 
reached that the best is possessed that the highest possi 
ble or practicable has been gained, and that men have 
nothing to concern themselves with but the traditions of the 
past and the maxims of the sages. 

The five modern empires are the Turkish, British, French, 
Eussian, and German, and if we recognize the Chinese as 
modern, it is the sixth. The Turkish empire represents the 
idea of fanaticism, growing out of a fatalistic philosophy, 
and the sword is regarded as the weapon both of the 
Church and State, and hewing the way for men into a future 
heaven of sensual delights. The British empire represents 
possession, wealth, rank, and asserted superiority, with a 
patronizing regard for the great masses of the people. The 
French empire represents brilliant achievement, progress, 
aspiration, steadiness in the pursuit of fame, along with 
great unsteadiness of method. The. Russian empire repre 
sents the idea of dominion, vastness, numbers, grandeur 
undeveloped, and novelty of position, and something of the 
rawness of a people unused to their place. The German 
empire represents historic pride, the power of great memo 
ries, and the affinities of race, language, and literature. 
And the modern empire of China represents the force of 


ideas, institutions, and characters, in holding their way like 
a gulf-stream through oceans of time, in conquering their 
conquerors, and living on through changes of dynasties and 
invasions of philosophies. If we introduce this New 
World of ours into the view, we have the empire of Lib- 
berty, for the northern part of America ; and the Brazilian 
empire, of hope, and promise, and growth, for the southern 
part of America. 

A grand problem now before mankind is the reconstruc 
tion of governmental empires. For economical reasons 
there should be no small nations. Other things the same, 
the government of great countries is the best and cheapest, 
In this view of a re-division of mankind into governments, 
blood, language, and religion, are commonly the ties that 
must bind empires together. On the continent of Europe, 
then, I would consolidate all the peoples whose languages 
is of Latin origin into one empire : France, Belgium, Spain, 
Portugal, and Italy, and parts of Austria and Switzerland- 
Austria should cease to be, and its parts go, according to 
language and blood, into Italy, Germany, Greece, and 
Russia. The German empire should have all the Teutonic 
peoples, taking in portions of Austria, Switzerland, and 
Holland, and all of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Russia 
is so huge in proportions as to need no enlargements ; but 
should take all such Scandinavian and Sclavic peoples as 
are not necessary to the symmetry and local requirements of 
any other nation. Turkey should be thrust out of Europe, 
and sent to regions east of Asia Minor, where an Arabic 
empire might live and flourish. A new Grecian empire 
should then replace Turkey in Europe and Asia Minor, in 
Crete and in Cyprus. An empire yet to be should hold the 
bulk of Africa ; Australasia should be erected into a power 
by itself; all South America be given to Brazil, and all 
North America to the Great Republic. He would have a 
common money standard a world coinage ; a general sys 
tem of weights and measures for all sorts of business, even 
to estimating the tonnage of ships. He would also have 
a common language. It might not be desirable to abolish 
the vernacular of any people, but it would come in time 


that the universal language proposed should become the 
language of second nature to multitudes and nations. The 
French is at present the common language of the polite and 
social world ; the English is the language of commerce and 
trade. He thought philologists might prepare a common 
language for trial, though perhaps it was too soon to deter 
mine how it should be constructed. It would be a wonder 
ful thing to-day for our advancement were such a language 
in use the world round a language lofty enough for wor 
ship, dignified enough for courts and diplomacy, concise 
enough for science, explicit enough for commerce, and 
smooth enough for art, and tuneful to the musical ear. It 
is a pressing want of our time, and will be of all the com 
ing times, till itself has come. 

The progress of man toward dominion is greatly hindered 
by the slowness of connection, travel, and transportation. 
He spoke of the probable exhausting of the coal-beds in a 
few centuries, and as the demand for light and heat ob 
tained by artificial processes would increase in geometrical 
ratio, it was necessary to look ahead for the supplies. We 
know where they exist in unlimited quantities. The oceans 
and lakes are depositories of oxygen and hydrogen, and 
little else. What the world wants is a cheap method of 
decomposing water into its elements. 

The question of cheap fuel and high speed is, therefore, a 
simple question of chemistry. When the ocean steamer 
can pump her fuel from the sea she rides, all the trouble 
of loading herself with coals has passed away. It seems to 
one, when he thinks of it, a small and simple thing to do 
to cheapen the process for the decomposition of water, so 
that its elements may be gathered up and used in largest 
quantities. Yet it is certain that such a discovery as this 
requires would revolutionize the industry of such a country 
as England, and modify the travel and traffic of all nations. 
Nevertheless, this problem is before the world, and our 
science ought to be modest till it has solved it. It used to 
be enough to say of a man, "He will never set the ocean 
afire," to consign him to dull mediocrity. Till he does set 


the ocean aflame, let no man of science be accounted wise 
above his generation. 

The grand advance to be made in electricity engaged the 
speaker s thoughts. We had made use of the speed, but 
had not mastered the power of the lightning. That which 
has such velocity, that which, instantaneously, makes iron 
run like water, must have the most terrific energy folded 
up in it ; must have a hundred times the power of steam ; 
must carry a storm in the bulk of a hogshead. When 
these problems in physical science shall have been hand 
somely solved, we may conclude that we have, as a human 
race, won our empire of the sea, as well as our conquest of 
the land. 

The atmosphere still remains, but he did not think we 
should obtain much dominion in that element in our 
present state of attainment. Ballooning at best was a 
clumsy affair, and the birds we imitated could carry little 
weight. If a flying machine succeeded, it would only as a 
flattering experiment, and to make a journey by one would 
be like walking a long distance or crossing the sea in a 
row-boat. Successful, swift as a meteor, cheap and safe 
navigation of the air must be postponed until we have 
found something ton times lighter than hydrogen gas to in 
flate our air ships. 

From air he passed to light, a subject in which beauty 
and mystery are more charmingly combined than any 
where else in nature. But this light, already a powerful 
agent in vegetable and animal chemistry, in all other 
natural chemistries, is even now employed as an agent, in 
some of the arts, in bleaching, dyeing, printing, and the 
laboratory of the photographer. The solar spectrum is 
a marvelous thing, and there is no end to the possible 
adaptation of it to human amusement, satisfaction, instruc 
tion and benefit, both natural and moral. The secret of 
landscape painting is certainly in the light ; and our inven 
tion ought to do more than simply to shade it off, as in the 
pearl picture. The time must come when the sun and the 
prepared canvas shall furnish us better colors and forms, 
and groups and combinations, than ever grew up under 


the hand of Zeuxis or Apelles, Raphael or Titian. And 
we are not to scorn the idea that, if the light can do such 
homely work as to bleach clothes and assist the laundress, 
there may be further great utilities and facilities in it, 
which shall work as many more transformations than the 
rains of heaven do, as the floods of light exceed the floods 
of rain. 

Music next engaged the speaker s attention. He did not 
attach much importance to the unwritten music, the har 
monies of the spheres, &c. One thought is that the pos 
sibilities of music as a science, have not been, all of them, 
reached hitherto. If all the possibilities of the science were 
reached already, and if all the possible instruments for the 
expressing of music were known, it would seem from 
analogy that every ear should be opened, and every nature 
charmed by it in some of the varieties. There are sights 
and scenes which every eye loves to behold. There are 
some articles that are agreeable to every palate. There are 
some odors that come up as fragrance into every nostril. 
There are some articles that give delight to every hand that 
touches them. And while it is so comparatively easy to 
find those things which shall regale all the senses of the 
great majority of any community at once, except the sense 
of hearing, it has frequently been a matter of surprise that 
there was no music which would find a willing ear in every 
individual. It would seem, therefore, from the analogy of 
nature and fact, that our music has not reached its limits 
in development, and that there are yet possible inventions 
of musical instruments, and specimens of musical composi 
tion, which shall have a power over all of us most subdu 
ing or exciting ; a power more fraught with spells and 
witcheries than was ever the fabled harp of Orpheus, or the 
song of the syren. 

He next spoke of the abodes of men, and said : Has it 
never occurred to you that men, the masses of men, live 
almost like the troglodytes still ? What are human abodes 
made of ? What are our dwellings ? What are our cities ? 
What more melancholy things are there than the sites of 
some of the famed cities of antiquity ? How mortifying it 




is to think that mankind can build of nothing that can last. 
Going to the places where mighty cities once flourished, 
what do we find 1 Usually fragments of stone, and brick, 
and pottery, and heaps of rubbish, and dust, and desola 

Human abodes and human monuments should be built 
of the earth s metals or crystals ; of metals that can not be 
corroded by air and water, as iron is ; of metals that can not 
be easily tarnished at all ; of metals that are as sweet and 
beautiful to the eye as Corinthian or choicest silver ; and 
of metals that can be everywhere produced in abundance 
at the cheapest rates. Our clay-beds and sand-hills, at 
best, only gave us a "perfect brick." Could we release 
the crystal from these sands, the aluminum from the clay- 
beds in so large a quantity that our houses and ships 
might be built of them, they would last. Certainly it is 
not asking very much of our science, grown so great and 
so proud in these later years, that it shall furnish us, out 
of its more than two score of metals, one at least that shall 
be fit to build our houses and our cities of, so that they 
may continue after us, and be a joy forever. It is time we 
were building of something besides "wood, hay, and 
stubble," brick and mortar, and broken fragments of 
crumbling rock. 

On chemistry and the chemical equivalents of starch and 
sugar, he said, though they are nearly identical, and can 
be, by a costly process, transmuted one into the other, no 
process has yet been made public, that I am aware of, in 
America, by which starch can be made into sugar, in a 
large way and cheaply. The question of the supply of 
sugar for the increasing use in the colder climates of the 
world, without resorting to the cane-growths of the tropics 
for the saccharine matter, is an important one, which may 
create revolutions in commerce, and modify the industries 
of some of the races of mankind. When fine sugars can be 
made from artichokes, potatoes, wheat, corn, and other 
cereals, as well as from sap, sorghum, beet-root, and sugar 
cane, the sugar supply will be a question of chemistry, and 
will forever cease to be a source of perplexity. 


Speaking of the power of the chemist to produce mainly 
by artificial processes, all the flavors, odors, and pleasant 
aromas which are found in the world s leaves, roots and 
flowers, and earth s minerals, &c., he said the people did 
not care a straw Jiow the odor has been compounded whose 
fragrance is that of violets, roses, or new-mown hay. And 
the nostrils are educated by these fabrications to the enjoy 
ment of sweet sensations, and are not disturbed by an in 
quiry into the history and extraction of the perfume. But 
when we come to the tasting organs, to mouth and palate, 
we are very fearful of the laboratory of the chemist, and of 
things artificially made. "We are governed by our preju 
dice, when our reason will teach us that our prejudice is 
absurd. Slowly, indeed, we are coining to eat chemically 
prepared food, and to drink chemically compounded drinks. 
Nature s processes are, all of them, largely chemical in their 
way ; and because the human chemist reaches results by 
more direct ways, we are childish enough to reject the re 
sults, even when we are not able to distinguish the artificial 
from the natural. 

He then spoke of adulteration and artificial wines, and 
said : Many of the articles with which food is adulterated, 
and drugs are adulterated, are, in fact, just as good, for the 
ends proposed, as the genuine article. They are cheaper in 
price, and are, therefore, improperly palmed off as genuine, 
and there is the wrong. If those who find out these cheaper 
articles would manufacture and sell them as substitutes for 
the real ones, but equally as good for the ends proposed by 
the use of them, while less costly, there would be good 
done, and not evil. And it may be regarded as one of the 
coming certainties, that we shall go to the chemists for a 
hundred things needed for the table, the chamber, and the 
nursery, which now we cultivate slowly, rear painfully, im 
port expensively, or distil watchfully, because we can have 
them made to order artificially, of the best quality, and can 
pay for them out of a moderate income science and art hav 
ing made many of the most sumptuous articles and greatest 
luxuries of the olden times, the common possession of all 
laboring men. 


Last of all, and greatest, is the dominion over man, over 
mind, over all the inner world, the problem of a true philos 
ophy. The human mind has never been able to satisfy itself 
in regard to the origin of its ideas, and has never held to any 
self-consistent theory of mental development. Human spec 
ulation has flowed mainly in two channels, running nearly 
parallel, sunk deep into the heart of things, with a high prom 
ontory between them, difficult or impossible to be passed 
over. He then spoke of the two schools of philosophy and 
their leaders, Plato and Aristotle. The one regarded the 
mind itself as the source of its chief ideas, as soon as it came 
into certain conditions and relations. The other contended 
that the mind derived all its ideas from its sensations, directly 
or indirectly. The one class deduced descended from gen 
eral statements to the particular ones, from principles to their 
applications. The other class induced ascended from par 
ticulars to the general law, and from observed facts up to 
the great principle. These classes were sometimes known 
as idealists and realists, or as spiritualists and materialists. 

In our time, the two styles of philosophy are often known 
as the transcendental and empiric, or, better, as absolutism 
and positivism. The prominent modern names on each 
side are, some of them, these Hegel, Hamilton, Cousin, 
Comte. The positive philosophy is particularly aggressive 
in the more recent years. It is advocated in England by 
Mansel, Spencer, Lewes, and Mill. But we can not go 
wholly with either great party ; nor can people generally 
do so. The world has groaned long with this struggle. 
Civilization has been retarded by it ; truth has suffered 
from it. The church has gone laboring between them, 
like an ocean steamer in rough seas ; with now one wheel 
clean out, and now the other, while the opposite one has 
been, at the same moment, so submerged as to do poor 
service, or none. There is need, therefore, of a philosophy 
which shall not call itself the philosophy of the absolute, 
nor the philosophy of the conditioned, which shall take, if 
possible, middle ground between them, and take all the 
truth from both of them, and combine them into a harmo 
nious whole. And this is the problem in mental philosophy 


now before mankind ; and all metaphysical men should give 
long and earnest attention to it. They should do so all the 
more hopefully, because the extreme absolutists and the 
extreme positivists have rushed around in different direc 
tions from opposite positions, into nearly the same cavern 
of darkness falling off into almost the same black abyss. 
The extreme positivist, at the end of his research, can find 
no God at all. The extreme absolutist, at the utmost line 
of his speculation, as yet, can find no God but Pan. Be 
tween the two we should utterly refuse to make any choice. 
It belongs to our time to frame and build out that philoso 
phy which can logically distinguish between essence and 
phenomena, substance and property, the Creator and the 
creation, the Maker and man, and the human being and the 
Divine Person, and rightly deal with them. The chariot of 
our progress can not long go upon a single wheel. The 
movements of both of the philosophic tendencies are required 
to roll on the vehicle to conquest. And if wisest hands shall 
guide its steeds, its track shall smoke ere long, but with the 
dust of stars. And then, one of the grandest conditions of 
rest, joy, and hope for our human race, will have gladdened 
the world. 

It is by looking away from the accomplished to the unac 
complished, that we get our bearings, lose our pride of 
attainment, see our failings, admit our deficiencies, and reg 
ulate our attitudes. We have need to remind ourselves 
that our century is only one of the centuries of time, and 
not a very advanced one at that ; that we simply walk the 
corridors, and enter a few of the outer courts of the great 
temple of truth eternal ; that it is reserved for those more 
favored, if not better men, who shall live many ages after 
us, to possess themselves entirely of the glorious structure, 
penetrate to its interiors, behold its splendid adytum, han 
dle its sacred arcana, and congratulate, disport, and regale 
themselves within that vast rotunda, whose light streams 
through a dome of solid crystal, without flaw or fracture, 
and paints the scene within with such a charm, in such a 
beauty, as never was on land or sea. 

And thus, also, in our little individualities, each working 


so much alone toward its destiny, we cling and creep, snail- 
like, up the steep and broad incline of fact, and thrust out 
for a time, tentatively, into those empires to be, the long 
antennae of our knowledge gained, tipped with the eyes of 
our faith. And then we retire, leaving, at least, our shells as 
the way-marks of progress, to grow more shining and trans 
lucent in the light of suns, and as clear white specks signal 
ing the march of Eternal Wisdom across the wastes of time. 
The orator retired to his seat amid the plaudits of the 
audience, whose attention he had riveted on himself from 
the first sentence to the last word. S. F. Bulletin. 


Tis summer s night, and Earth a bride is dressed, 
With silver lamps hung round her azure walls ; 

And where Day s rosy footsteps late had pressed, 
The purple drapery of the evening falls. 

The air is sensuous with the breath of flowers, 
Whose parted lips are drunken with delight ; 

And on the pathways of the languid hours 

Come thousand whisper d mysteries of the night. 

The winds are resting in their hidden deep, 
Or coyly hide within the trembling leaves, 

Where dreaming swallows twitter in their sleep, 
In airy nests beneath the frowning eaves. 

Down by the margin of the throbbing sea, 
The silent tide comes creeping on the land, 

Save where o er rocks it rippling glides away 
In gurgling murmurs on the yellow sand. 

Along the currents of the sultry air, 

With drowsy tongue, Time counts his ceaseless flight ; 
And Slumber spreads her robes o er joys and care, 

While souls like sea-birds fold their wings in night. 

Within the calm repose and dreamy hours, 
Ecstatic peace around my life is thrown ; 

And mid the fragrance of the drooping flowers, 
Soft lips like rose-buds seem to press my own. 



And now the moon rolls up with ruddy glow, 

And tips with silver each for shadowy hill ; 
The starry hosts march onward dim and slow, 

While Nature sleeps, and Earth grows lone and still. 

Night lies recumbent on the breast of space, 

And folds the worlds around with brooding wings ; 

The Earth in moonbeams veils her dusky face, 
Where tranquil rest pervades all living things. 



CALIFORNIA lias the most varied climatology 
of any territory of equal area in the world. 
This, with its diversed topography, its altitudes 
of eternal snow, its gigantic forest growths, its 
extensive tulares, with arid basins and irri 
gated bottom land, localize a wide range of diseases. And 
yet it is claimed that nowhere else are the elements of 
climate combined in proportion so congenial to the human 
system and so favorable to the development of all the intel 
lectual and physical powers. The logical deduction from 
these facts is that the race born and trained up here, should 
have a type of development marked and distinct as the 
great physical features of the country. Certainly the chil 
dren born here present many distinct and original traits. 
But we wait to see whether they make better men and 
women than their fathers and mothers. 

The hydrography of the Coast Range presents some inter 
esting phenomena. Thus, the Santa Anna River, the largest 
on the Southern coast, rising in Mount St. Bernardino and 
extending for one hundred miles, only reaches the sea in 
very wet seasons. The San Gabriel sinks and comes to the 
surface again. Many of the smaller streams sink, a few 
discharging by subterranean channels into the sea, and 
others are sponged up by the arid country through which 
they flow. 


We have also the phenomenon of swelling springs and 
water-courses in dry seasons some weeks before the rainy 
season sets in. This is accounted for in part by the change 
from dry to moist winds. The diminished power of the 
sun s rays in the shortening days, causing less evaporation 
of springs and rivulets, which, having a uniform supply, 
there is a larger quantity of water coming to the surface and 
flowing off. An intensely hot day, or a dry north wind, 
will cause a sudden shrinkage, and the swelling will reap 
pear when the wind or heat subsides. 

In no other country in the world is there such a strange 
jumble of climates. The climate upon one side of a range of 
mountains is distinct from that on the other. The journey 
of a single day presents every phase from a semi-tropical to 
a semi-frigid climate. San Francisco is on the same parallel 
with Washington and St. Louis, and yet it has neither the 
cold winter nor the hot summer of these places. But if the 
wind currents cease to flow in from the ocean for a day or 
two the temperature is at a sweltering heat. Several 
instances of this kind have occurred during the present 
season. The mean temperatures of spring, summer, autumn 
and winter, at San Francisco, are 55, 59, 58 and 50 degrees 
respectively. October is warmer than July and August, 
and the mean temperature of the whole year in this city is 
59.9. Once only the thermometer ran to 97, and as it often 
falls to 46 in July, a range of 41 degrees might occur within 
twelve hours. 

California has a cloudless atmosphere for about two-thirds 
of the year, except on the sea- coast, where fogs are blown 
in from the ocean. These are charged with moisture. Hence 
the hills of the Coast Range will produce cultivated crops in 
the driest seasons. 

The epidemics noted as prevailing in this State are such 
as are denominated Contagious, as Varioloid, Scarlatina, and 
Kubeola ; Infectious, Typhoid, Typhus, and Spotted Fever ; 
and MeteoraUous, as Influenza and Diphtheria. 

Malaria fever occurs in low grounds and along -water 
courses. There is also a malaria known as the Mountain 
Fever, rarely or never occurring at an altitude below 7,000 


feet. This form of disease, it is asserted Iby some medical 
authorities, is generated in low lands, and only modified by 
the new atmospheric conditions found at a high altitude. 

Catarrhal affections prevailed extensively over the whole 
Pacific coast, from October, 1863, to February, 1864, but in 
very few instances did the disease result fatally. While 
there is now a great diminution of this disease, it still 
prevails extensively during our wet seasons, and yields 
very slowly to medical treatment. 

The thermometric and barometric tables contained in the 
pamphlet are of great interest, and it is rarely that so much 
and so valuable local information is crowded into a smaller 
compass. F. Bulletin s Synopsis of a PampJilet by 
TTios. M. Logan, M. D. 


TRAVELER writing from the European Con 
tinent says as follows : The mosaics seem to 
absorb the most time and money in the least 
space, unless it be in the gold decorations. 
We saw a table last week, less than six feet in 
diameter, which is said to have cost two hundred thousand 
dollars, requiring the labor of a large number of men for fif 
teen years in its production. On entering the hall where this 
kind of work is done, I could not doubt these enormous 
figures. Suppose, for instance, a thousand of the hardest and 
most expensive stones which will take a high polish, to be cut 
into pieces three-eighths of an inch thick. These pieces are 
cut the other way into small pieces like shoe-pegs, and where 
the shading from one color to another is sudden, these pegs 
must not be larger than a needle. Now the artist cuts and 
puts in these little pieces, selected according to their color, 
so as to give the coloring wanted by the workmen as dis 
tinct as though painted. Those pieces of pegs must be 
fitted so closely that lines of separation will not show, and 
set upon end, side by side, like type. They claim that ten 
thousand different shades of color are necessary ; and in 


order to do this kind of work, a man must be skilled in 
colors and shades as a painter, in order to place the colors 
properly ; then be the most careful and accurate mechanic 
in order to fit the pieces, and then he must have patience 
enough to work on the cheapest and coarsest pictures one 
year, and upon a fine one from ten to twenty years. 


HEN the great ocean is disturbed it forms sur 
face waves, which are sometimes of great mag 
nitude. In a gale, such waves have been more 
than once measured, and it is found that their 
extreme height from the top to the deepest de 
pression of large storm waves has been nearly 
50 feet, their length being from 400 to 600 yards, and their 
rate of motion through, the water about half a mile a 
minute. Such waves, breaking over an obstacle of any 
kind, or mingling strangely with the clouded atmosphere 
raging above, are the wildest, grandest, and most terri 
ble phenomena of nature. When they approach land, 
they break up into much smaller bodies of water, but 
these are often lifted by shoals and obstructed by rocks 
till they are thrown up in masses of many tons to a 
height of more than 100 feet. The tidal wave is an 
other phenomenon of water motion of a somewhat dif 
ferent kind, producing an alternate rise and fall of the 
water over all parts of the ocean every 12 hours. In 
addition to the true waves there are also many definite 
streams or currents of water conveying large portions of 
the sea from one latitude to another, modifying the tem 
perature of the adjacent land, and producing a mixture of 
the waters at the surface or at some depth which can not 
but be extremely conducive to the general benefit of all 
living beings. 

Storm tides, or those waves which occasionally rush with 
out any pause along narrow and confined seas or up funnel- 
shaped inlets, have occasionally proved disastrous to a 


fearful extent. Thus it is recorded that upward of 100,000 
persons perished in the year 1232, and again in 1242, in 
this way, numerous complete villages and towns being 
washed away by a wave advancing from the North Sea 
over the low lands of Holland. Between Nova Scotia and 
New Brunswick the ordinary spring tide often rises to a 
height of 100 feet, sweeping away the cattle feeding on the 
shore. All the Year Round. 


IT seems that they had in the vicinity of Santa Barbara 
the original California Mint. The Indians of Tulare County 
generally came over once a year, in bands of twenty or 
thirty, male and female, on foot, armed with bows and 
arrows. They brought over panoche, or thick sugar, made 
from what is now called honey-dew and from the sweet 
Carisa cane, and put up into small oblong sacks, made of 
grass and swamp flags ; also nut pipes and wild tobacco, 
pounded and mixed with lime. This preparation of native 
tobacco was called pispewat, and was used by them for 
chewing. These articles were exchanged for a species of 
money from the Indian Mint of the Santa Barbara ranche- 
rias, called by them "ponga." This "ponga" money con 
sisted of pieces of shell, rounded, with a hole in the middle, 
made from the hardest part of the small edible, white 
muscle of our beaches, which was brought in canoes by 
the barbarians from the island of Santa Rosa. The worth 
of a rial was put on a string which passed twice and a half 
around the hand /. <?., from the end of the middle finger to 
the wrist. Eight of these strings passed for the value of a 
silver dollar, and the Indians always preferred them to 
silver, even as late as 1833. This traffic the Padres encour 
aged, as it brought them into peaceable connection with 
the tribes of the Tulare Valley. Santa Barbara Gazette, 
Sept., 1860. 



[HE skies smiled yesterday upon a ceremony of 
vast significance to Sacramento, California, and 
the Union. With rites appropriate to the oc 
casion, and in presence of the dignitaries of the 
State, representatives of every portion of the 
commonwealth, and a great gathering of citi 
zens, ground was formally broken at noon for the com 
mencement of the Central Pacific Railroad the California 
link of the continental chain that is to unite American 
communities now divided by thousands of miles of trackless 
wilderness. Among the assemblage were pioneers, who 
had assisted in laying the foundations of the Golden State, 
who had dreamed, toiled and schemed for years in behalf 
of this grand enterprise, and clung with steady faith, 
through many depressing defeats, to the belief that they 
would live to witness the consummation of their hopes ; 
men who had more recently determined to devote their 
energies and their means to the execution of the project; 
representatives of the various sections of the State who 
appreciated the importance of the work to the whole Pacific 
coast, no matter where the line should be located ; high 
officials whose presence and earnest approval enhanced the 
dignity of the occasion ; divines to invoke blessings on the 
work ; and last, but not least, directors, and contractors, who 
gave substantial assurance that the brain, the muscle, the 
gold and the iron were ready to make the railroad a reality. 
A noticeable feature of the inauguration was the patriotic 
character it assumed. The orators ascended from the level 
of material considerations to the contemplation of the work 
as a "bond of Union," and took occasion to rejoice over 
the recent declarations that henceforth the Union is to be 
indissolubly wedded to Liberty. 

Two wagons, adorned with flags, drawn by horses that 
were also decorated with the national colors, were stationed 
near the rostrum, with earth ready to be shoveled out for 


the railroad embankment. On one of these wagons was a 
large banner bearing a representation of hands clasped 
across the continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific, with 
the prayer of every loyal heart, 

" May the Bond be Eternal." 

Shortly after twelve o clock M., Governor Stanford ap 
peared upon the stand, and the ceremonies of the occasion 
were commenced. 

C. Crocker introduced to the assemblage Leland Stanford, 
Governor of the State of California. 


Fellow-Citizens : I congratulate you upon the com 
mencement of the great work which, in its results to the 
State of California and the Pacific coast, and to the nation 
itself, is to be what the Erie Canal was to New York and 
the Western States. The work will go on, from this side, 
to completion, as rapidly as possible. There will be no 
delay, no halting, ^no uncertainty in its continued progress. 
We may now look forward with confidence to the day, not 
far distant, when the Pacific will be bound to the Atlantic 
by iron bonds, that shall consolidate and strengthen the 
ties of nationality, and advance with giant strides the 
prosperity of our State and of our country. The blessings 
which are to follow the completion of the work which we 
this day inaugurate can not be fully estimated. Agricul 
ture, commerce, manufactures, wealth, and population, will 
feel its influence, and will commence with it a new era in 
progress. And we may rest assured that the results will 
be equal to the magnitude of the undertaking, which is one 
that will shed luster upon the enterprise, the energies, and 
the wisdom of our people. A few short years since, the 
pioneers of our State looked upon a field, magnificent, but 
wild and unexplored. The beautiful river at our side 
floated upon its bosom only the light canoe and reed raft of 
the untutored native. But, under the stimulus of Ameri 
can energy, how changed the scene. The stream, from its 
hitherto clear and undisturbed repose, is changed to a busy 


channel, bearing the evidences of labor in the distant hills. 
With the pioneer appeared upon its surface the heavy and 
cumbrous barge, followed by the slow sailing craft, and 
soon by the noble steamer freighted with the wealth of a 
prosperous State, and alive with travelers urging that pros 
perity to its furthest limits. The Pacific Railroad will 
insure still another change ; the wealth and the commerce 
of the East and the West is to float upon its waters, and it 
is to behold the busy denizens of two hemispheres, in their 
constant travel over the great highway of nations. It is to 
realize all this that we are assembled here to-day, and we 
should be happy in the enjoyment of so great and glorious 
a privilege. I feel honored that the ground in the progress 
of the construction of the Pacific Railroad is first broken by 
my hand ; and as emblematical of the importance of the 
work, and of its appreciation by the people of the State, 
and their determination to perform what is now under 
taken, it is meet and proper that the Governor of the State 
should be present and perform the first act of labor, and that 
we should invoke God s blessing upon tlae undertaking. 

At the close of the Governor s remarks, Rev. J. A. Ben- 
ton came forward and offered the following prayer : 


O Almighty and everlasting God ! who ridest upon the 
wings of the wind and makest thy pavilion round about thee 
dark waters and thick clouds of the sky ; who hast thy way 
in the sea and thy path in great waters ; who didst speak, 
and it was ; who commandedst, and it stood fast ; by the 
wonderful working of thy hand the heavens unfurl their 
banners, and the earth loads herself with fruits and decks 
herself with flowers ! We bless thee for the revelation of 
thyself in all thy works, and for that which thou hast done, 
and for all thy grace in permitting thy creatures to discover 
the secrets of nature, and make use of so many of the appli 
ances of art. We bless thee for all the triumphs of art and 
civilization, for the steamers that plow the ocean, the loco 
motives that go with the speed of the wind, and the light- 


ning winch, harnessed, runs to and fro to do the bidding of 
men. We bless thee for all the knowledge given to us, 
thy creatures. We rejoice that thou canst make all things 
promotiye of thy cause and kingdom in the world, that 
cause which is the cause of humanity, and that kingdom 
which embraces mankind. We bless thee for this propitious 
day, this happy hour, which we have waited for and prayed 
for through the lapsing years. O God, grant thy favor unto 
this enterprise ; bless these directors and officers. May this 
enterprise, which is now inaugurated in thy name, go on 
speedily to its completion. Thou didst command in the 
words of thy prophet in the times of old, saying, " Go 
through, go through the gates ; prepare ye the way of the 
people ; cast up, cast up the highway ; gather out the 
stones ; lift up a standard for the people ; prepare ye the 
way of the Lord ; make straight in the desert a highway for 
our God ; every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain 
and hill shall be made low ; the crooked shall be made 
straight and the rough places plain. And an highway shall 
be there, and it shall be called the way of holiness ; the un 
clean shall not walk therein ; but it shall be for those, and 
the wayfaring men, though fools shall not err therein." In 
our humble way, and in this material form, we enter upon 
the first step of creating a highway for the people and na 
tion. O Lord, deign to accept it as thy work. Let "the 
wilderness and solitary place be glad for it, and the desert 
blossom as the rose." Let it be a source of power to this 
great nation. Unite the nation again into a power which 
shall guard the freedom of the world. O Lord, let this be 
a bond of connection between the East and the West, be 
tween those vast expanses of ocean ; let thy name be glorified 
amongst all the islands of the sea, and the inhabitants of this 
great commonwealth. May our city flourish, and be a city 
sought out and not forsaken ; may the blessing of the Most 
High be poured out upon this work and all such enter 
prises, now and forever. Amen. 

At the close of the prayer, C. Crocker announced that 
"the Governor of the State of California will now shovel 
the first earth for the great Pacific Railroad." 


The two wagons loaded with, earth were driven up in front 
of the rostrum, and Governor Stanford, with a zeal and 
athletic vigor that showed his heart was in the work and 
his muscle in the right place, seized the shovel, and, amid 
the lusty cheering of the crowd, deposited the first earth 
for the embankment. The enthusiastic Charles Crocker 
promptly called for " nine cheers," and the crowd, sharing 
his enthusiasm, cheeringly responded. The sun smiled 
brightly, and everybody felt happy, because, after so many 
years of dreaming, scheming, talking, and toiling, they saw 
with their own eyes the actual commencement of a Pacific 

This ceremony ended, the Governor returned to the plat 

A. M. Crane of Alameda, President pro tern, of the Sen 
ate, was introduced, and addressed the assemblage as 
follows : 


Fellow-citizens : I do not know what I can say to add 
to the interest of this occasion that has not already been an 
hundred times said, and better said than I can say. The 
great enterprise here this day inaugurated, is the consum 
mation of a long, arduous, and finally successful struggle, 
waged often with faint hopes of success, persevered in 
against discouragements and obstacles of every kind, until 
finally success has crowned our efforts. This is an occasion 
on which we should gratefully remember the entire and 
laborious devotion of our delegation in both houses of Con 
gress in finally securing the passage of the act which is des 
tined to commemorate this great and magnificent enterprise. 
The future who shall predict it ? and what language shall 
be used even in a faint degree worthy of the subject, or the 
occasion ? San Francisco and Boston, the two distant ex 
tremes of our continent, will then be united by one continu 
ous and unbroken iron track, of over four thousand miles. 
How magnificent the idea ! What a triumph of human 
power, and what an honor to the civilization of our age. Be 
tween those two distant points passengers may be conveyed, 


at ordinary rates of speed, in the period of seven days. Start 
ing from the metropolis of the Pacific, after an early breakfast, 
the passenger will lunch at Sacramento, and dine the same 
evening at Carson City. The rising sun of the next morning 
will find him half way between Carson and Salt Lake City, 
having during the night passed down the entire valley of 
the Carson and across the great desert, and on the evening 
of the second day he will dine at the wonderful City of the 
Desert. Having accomplished this first thousand miles, 
more or less, in thirty-six hours, our passenger, after the 
travel and rest of another night, will awake in the morning 
amidst the magnificent scenery of the South Pass of the 
Rocky Mountains having passed during the night the 
mountain ranges lying between the great valley of Salt Lake 
and Green River, crossing this stream, passing up the valleys 
of the Great Sandy and Pacific creeks to the dividing ridge 
between the waters flowing to the Atlantic and Pacific 
oceans. As the sun of this morning shines forth, he will 
look out upon the most magnificent works of the Creator. 
Away to the northwest will appear the cloudy, snow-capped 
range of the Wind River Mountains to the southeast the 
parallel ridges of the great Rocky range, rising one behind 
the other, displaying their whitened prominences, and in 
every direction the grand scenery of disjointed, isolated, 
and vast masses of rock, will make full and complete the 
splendid panorama. Passing amid the grandeurs of this 
scenery down the valley of the Sweetwater, over the dividing 
ridge between that and the Platte River, he will dine on the 
evening of this day at Fort Laramie, and, lying down to 
rest again, he will pass during the night rapidly down the 
great valley of the Platte, arriving on the following morning 
at an early breakfast at Fort Kearny. At this point, cross 
ing and leaving this great valley, down which he has passed 
for so many hundreds of miles, he will pass over the eme 
rald prairies of Nebraska, and dine on the evening of his 
fourth day at St. Joseph having thus reached the Missouri 
River in three days and a half from San Francisco. This is 
the same journey which the early immigrants to our coast, 
myself among the number, accomplished only after a labo- 


rious march of an hundred and more days ; and we can now 
hardly realize the great change so soon to come, and which 
has been so imperfectly depicted. Nevertheless, it is a 
fact which will soon be upon us. It has been often, and 
again and again remarked, that we live in a wonderful age. 
This saying, from its frequent repetition, has become trite, 
but is none the less true. And yet how few of us really 
realize its truth. We are living in a wonderful nay, in the 
most wonderful era in the history of our world. Since those 
of us now in the middle age have been upon the stage, more 
and greater advancement has been made in all the arts of 
civilization and human progress than in three centuries 
before. An unseen, imponderable agent, is made the con 
ductor (no one yet has explained how) of thought ; and from 
the farthest extremes of our country, now, day after day, 
as the conflict rages, we are informed of the tremendous 
conflicts and battles lost or won, ere yet the dead are buried 
or the wounded cared for. The wonders of photography 
I need not allude to that most accomplished and finished 
of all arts, by which the rays of our great luminary are 
forced into the service of man, and made to paint, severely 
true, all objects at will. Other and former eras have been 
characterized as the age of bronze, or the age of iron of 
gold of steam of thought of right ; and, after near a 
century of abasement and shame, our nation has now en 
tered also upon the age of liberty. Let us for the moment 
glance at some of the most immediate benefits which are to 
accrue to the people of our own State from the construction 
of this great work. These benefits we shall begin to realize 
from the commencement. So soon as a section of the road 
is placed in working order, its advantages will become 
apparent, and the farther it proceeds the more and greater 
will these advantages become. Our yet scarcely developed 
mineral resources will receive a new impetus, and thousands 
of tons of ores containing the precious metals will be weekly 
delivered at extensive metallurgical works, yet to be erected 
here or at the Bay, by means of which, by more perfect 
machinery and higher appliances of art, the metals can be 
extracted more perfectly and with greater economy. By 


this means, also, millions of tons, now esteemed worthless, 
in the usual modes of working, Avill be reduced at a profit. 
The copper ores, now being so abundantly discovered, will 
be rendered of increased value by the economy of transpor 
tation, and the low grades of those ores, now abandoned as 
worthless, will, for the same reason, be made available, and 
found to contain fortunes. The coal of our coast range will 
be afforded at low rates to the consumer ; the granite, and 
marble, and other building rocks, will reach the centers of 
trade, and contribute to the erection of our cities and the 
adornment of our public edifices ; and the timber of our 
mountain forests be rendered accessible for all the purposes 
of civilized life. Vast tracts of land, now lying in its virgin 
fertility, owing to the remoteness of markets, will be brought 
into cultivation. Our main centers of commerce will become 
the recipients of enormous increase in every branch of busi 
ness, and, more especially, manufactures will be encouraged, 
and become promoted to an extent hardly to be conceived, 
and thus employment and fair remuneration be afforded to 
thousands. The facility of rapid communication, bringing, 
as it were, the city and country together, will lead to the 
development of many as yet unknown sources of wealth, 
and will induce capitalists to invest in enterprises now 
deemed unfeasible. When this great work shall be finally 
accomplished, and the iron track shall become a continuous 
highway across the continent, then the impetus to commerce, 
both domestic and foreign, that will follow, can hardly be 
conceived, and from this our State will reap a golden harvest. 
There will be saved to us and Nevada Territory, annually, 
at least three millions of dollars, which would otherwise be 
charged for freight and insurance, under the name of ex 
change, on the hundred millions we shall annually export 
of gold and silver. The country to be opened to civilization 
and settlement, lying between the Rocky Mountains and the 
Missouri, is of vast extent. The Territory of Dakota alone 
(which, by branches from the main road, will eventually be 
penetrated in all directions) is nearly as large in its extent as 
all the Southern States. Here are yet to be the happy homes 
of millions, and from it a cluster of new States will be added 


to the galaxy of our mighty Republic. I need not speak of 
it as an arm of national defense, nor allude to the rich com 
merce of the Indies and South Sea Islands, nor to the entire 
change in the trade and travel of the world which it will 
effect. These have all been so often and so well presented 
by others, more ably than I can do it, that it would be but 
a waste of time to reproduce them. All that has been said, 
and more, now approaches its realization. A few years 
only will elapse, probably within the lifetime of the larg 
est portion of those present to-day and what lias been 
now commenced, will be completed. Another great fact 
will then be added to the world s history. Then with truth 
we may say 

" No pent up Utica contracts our powers ; 
The whole boundless continent is ours." 

Then will be celebrated an event. New York, Boston, 
Baltimore, Philadelphia, Cincinnati, St. Louis, Chicago- 
all united to Sacramento and San Francisco by iron bonds 
and golden links meeting by their -delegations our own, 
amid the grandest of Nature s scenery, will hold a jubilee 
of triumph at Pacific Springs, and engrave upon the great 
granite face of Independence Rock their memorial of the 
completion of this greatest, proudest achievement of man. 
Our sister city of the Bay will then, rapidly developed by 
the amazing increase of her commerce and manufactures, 
pass beyond any at present conceived limits, and sit proudly 
the queen of cities. Sacramento Union, January 9, 1863. 


BE our experience in particulars what it may, no man 
ever forgot the visitations of that power to his heart and 
brain which created all things new ; which was the dawn 
in him of music, poetry, and art, which made the face of 
nature radiant with purple light, the morning and the night 
varied enchantments ; when a single tone of one voice 
could make the heart beat, and the most trivial circum- 


stance associated with one form, is put in the amber of 
memory ; when we became all eye when one was present, 
and all memory when one was gone ; when the youth 
became a watcher of windows, and studious of a glove, a 
veil, a ribbon, or the wheels of a carriage ; when no place 
is too solitary, and none too silent, for him who has richer 
company and sweeter conversation in his new thoughts, 
than any old friends, though best and purest, can give him ; 
when all business seemed an impertinence, and all the men 
and women running to and fro in the streets, mere pictures. 
For, though the celestial rapture falling out of heaven, 
seizes only upon those of tender age, and although a beauty, 
overpowering all analysis or comparison, and putting us 
quite beside ourselves, we can seldom see after thirty years, 
yet the remembrance of these visions outlasts all other 
remembrances, and is a wreath of flowers on the oldest 
brows. Ralph Waldo Emerson. 


CORRESPONDENT of the Boston Transcript, in 
June, 1860, announced the recent discovery of 
the Mausoleum, one of the seven wonders of the 
ancient world. Everybody has read the story of 
Artemisia, that most inconsolable of widows, 
who, when her husband (her own brother, by the way), 
Mausolus, king of Halicarnassus, died, drank his ashes in 
her grief, and erected to his memory a monument, which, 
for grandeur and magnificence, was called one of the seven 
wonders of the world. Guided by Pliny and other writers, 
Mr. Newton pitched upon a miserable hamlet in Asia 
Minor as the site of this ancient wonder. Having obtained 
the consent of the Turkish Government, the next thing to 
do was to purchase the rights of the jealous occupants of 
the soil, a matter of no small difficulty. One old woman 
loaded her musket, and declared by the Holy Sepulcher 
that she would neither sell nor budge. However, on being 
offered enough money to pay the expenses of a pilgrimage 


to Mecca, she came down. Removing the huts, Mr. New 
ton commenced his excavations, and soon had the satisfac 
tion of handling portions of the famed Mausoleum, exqui 
site friezes in alto- relief, fragments of colossal lions, and of 
"beautiful statues, some of which he was enabled to recon 
struct. He ascertained that the great tomb was a quadrangu 
lar building, of about four hundred and twenty- one feet 
circuit, one hundred feet in height, surmounted by a pyramid, 
on the top of which stood a beautiful four-horse chariot, in 
which was the statue of Mausolus. This agrees with the 
ancient accounts of this magnificent tomb. It was erected 
more than two thousand years ago, about the year 353 before 
Christ, and Mr. Newton is of the opinion that it was cast 
down by an earthquake. That the fragments of this proud 
monument of human affection should now be dug up 
beneath the site of a miserable Turkish village, is a strik 
ing commentary on the changes and vicissitudes of the 
world s history. 


HAVE spent much time since in Central Ari 
zona, and have studied it pretty thoroughly. I 
have especially turned my attention to the previ 
ous occupation of the country by a civilized race, 
the probable cause of their destruction, and its sub 
sequent occupation by the present race of wild Apaches and 
Pueblo Indians. It is a matter of conjecture when this race 
of people, who have left so many grand works behind them 
(now in ruins), first came into the country. It is presumed, 
however, that they must have crossed to this country by 
Behring s Straits, and traveled south until they found a 
suitable country to settle upon. There are but few remains 
of these settlements to be found north of the thirty -seventh 
parallel of north latitude, but south of that line and west of 
the one hundred and fourth parallel of west longitude the 
ruins of ancient cities and towns are found. Humboldt, 
Ward, Wilson, and Bourne, besides more recent explorers, 


have given to the world a partial description only of the 
peculiar features of the former settlement of Arizona by a 
race far superior to the present aboriginal inhabitants, 
descendants of a people who cultivated many of the arts 
and sciences, probably brought by them from the climes 
of Asia and Africa. My explorations in the central por 
tion of Arizona have been prolific in bringing to light 
many new features of the ancient occupation of the country 
not seen by the explorers who have preceded me since the 
year 1805. I find that the reports of Father De Mca are in 
the main true. The towns which he gives an account of are 
traceable from the Casa Blanca to the present towns of Zuni 
and Moqui. I date the period of the destruction of these 
towns from 1569, and since the visits of De Nica and Capt. 
Espejo. These conclusions are arrived at from geological 
appearances, and the fact that those cities and towns were 
destroyed by volcanic convulsions. Ruins of former hab 
itations are everywhere to be found in Central Arizona. 
Traces of acequais, or canals for conveying water to supply 
the inhabitants, are seen in many places. Inscriptions on 
rocks severil hundred feet froni the valley below, and per 
pendicular, note with accuracy the former condition of the 
country, showing that there did exist lakes of great size, 
which communicated with the ocean as Inscription Rock 
on the Piscado near Zuric, the bluffs of Moquis, those of Ojo 
del Gallo, and the basin of Owens River plainly indicate, the 
outlet of the latter being at Red Rock Canon. 

Returning to the ruins which mark the occupation of the 
country by an industrious people : it is evident that there 
were in this pre-historic age many of the arts and sciences. 
Of all the towns and cities which were destroyed by the 
convulsions of nature, there remain but the ruins of Zuni 
and Moquis the latter in a perfect state of preservation 
and parts of Oraiba and Cosnina. The two latter are pue 
blos, near the Cosnena Caves, at the eastern base of the San 
Francisco Mountain. Moquis is built principally of stone, 
upon a high mesa of old red sandstone, and approached by 
steps cut in the rock. The buildings are of primitive char 
acter, flat roofs, and three and four stories high. The inhab- 


itants enter their houses by means of ladders, ascending to 
the first flat roof, and descending to the chambers through 
an aperture by the same means. The houses of both Mos- 
quis and Zuni are plastered inside by a durable cement, 
found close at hand. These Indians have a dialect of their 
own, which they allege is purely Aztec, and the same lan 
guage used by Montezuma. They cultivate the soil, raise 
sheep, goats, horses, and cattle, spin and weave cloth in the 
most primitive way, and reduce their grain into meal by rub 
bing it between two stones, each family being provided with 
an apartment set apart especially for that purpose. They 
have at all times been friendly to the United States. 

The number of ancient towns and cities which at one time 
graced the central part of Arizona was about two hundred ; 
some of them were densely populated ; and it is evident that 
the inhabitants were a warlike people, and understood the 
art of war to a considerable degree, from the great number 
of fortifications still to be seen all over the country. That 
they carried on mining on a large scale, for gold, silver, and 
copper, and were well acquainted with gems. The tur 
quoise is still held in great esteem by the Zunians and Mo- 
quis. Traces of reducing works for metals are found in 
many places throughout the Territory. The agricultural 
and mineral resources of the country will form the subject 
of the next paper in which localities will be spoken of in 
detail, especially the gold and silver deposits, ruby, opal, 
diamonds, and other gems known to exist in certain parts 
of the Territory. Correspondence S. F. Bulletin. 




12, 1866. 

the three great producing interests of society 
which constitute the sources of national and 
individual wealth commerce, agriculture, and 
manufactures important as each is in its rela 
tion to the general prosperity, it can hardly be 
denied that agriculture occupies the first and manufactures 
the second rank in the promotion and development of 
public security and virtue. For commerce, while it often 
times rolls in a tide of opulence which augments the nation s 
influence and wealth, yet it scarcely ever fails to end in 
corrupting the habits and undermining the principles of 
society by substituting luxury, licentiousness and enerva 
tion for enterprise, morality and vigor. And such is the 
lesson of all antiquity, from Tyre, in the far olden time, 
down to the declining day of Rome. In the contrast between 
commerce and agriculture are involved some of the gravest 
questions of political economy. Commerce, in the main, is 
a producing agent from abroad ; agriculture is a developing 
influence at home. The one creates weakness and diffusion 
in the State by denying to its existence a self-sustaining 
power, and drawing from extraneous sources its means of 
support ; the other brings forth and husbands the resources 
of the State, and causes it to derive from itself the material 
of its own advancement. It is the difference between the 
man who, having stored his mind with the acquisitions 
of others, becomes eminent for learning, and him whose 
mind, by its creating power, flashes from within the fires of 
genius that difference which lifted Homer above Varro. 
The same contrast exists, also, between commerce and manu 

In considering the claims of agriculture we are first struck 
with the spectacle of its great antiquity. When the Divine 
fiat first cursed the ground, for Adam s sake it then decreed 


that from the earth, man s bread should thenceforth come. 
And ever since that early day when it was declared that 
the sword should be turned into the plowshare, the plow 
has been the universal and perpetual emblem of peace, 
prosperity and plenty. Stretching backward for its mytho- 
logic origin into the shadows of that era when, by the 
inspiration of Ceres, Triptolemus became the inventor of 
the plow, agriculture has always been, from the remotest 
age of fable, a source of blessing to every nation and to 
every clime. It was this pursuit which gave character to 
the Saturnian or Golden Age that reign of purity and 
peace on earth when the people were blended in harmony, 
and all was primitive and simple in the thoughts and deeds 
of men, and human nature glorified itself in universal 
brotherhood, and lawlessness and violence were utterly 
unknown. Of this happy period saith the historian : " The 
King of Heaven (Saturn) employed himself in civilizing the 
barbarous manners of the people of Italy, and teaching 
them agriculture and the useful and liberal arts. His reign 
was so mild and popular, so beneficent and virtuous, that 
mankind have called it the Golden Age, to intimate the 
happiness and tranquillity which the earth then enjoyed." 
Visions of that rare beauty which rendered the Golden Age 
the more resplendent era of the world, and agriculture the 
noblest of pursuits, occasionally gleam down the descent of 
centuries through the didactics of Hesiod, the idyls of 
Theocritus, the pastorals of Bion and Moschus, the georgics 
and bucolics of Virgil. Let me not weary you in dwelling 
thus upon this period of time, for I regard it as strikingly 
suggestive of that amazing advancement in prosperity and 
progress which an agricultural people may attain at any 
period of the world s history, now and hereafter, just as 
well as then. Another incident connected with that era is 
not without its lesson and example at the present time. On 
the statues of Saturn were hung fetters, to indicate the chains 
which Jupiter had once imposed upon him. For this reason 
it became a custom that all slaves who had acquired their 
freedom should dedicate their chains to him. And what 
more appropriate dedication of their fetters, in this great 


natal day of freedom, could the enfranchised millions of 
our former slaves now make than to devote them, not to 
Saturn, but to Agriculture, that pursuit of which he was 
the illustrious developer and patron. If this large and 
most perplexing element of our people shall have their in 
dustry directed, as a mass, through voluntary, compensated 
labor, to the culture of the soil, not only their condition, 
but the welfare of the nation will be essentially improved. 
Again, agriculture is the truest and most reliable source 
of national wealth. This view does not design to disparage 
manufactures, of whose large influence and value we shall 
speak hereafter. It has been shown that commerce, while 
it pours in a broader stream of luxury and affluence than 
agriculture, has a more demoralizing influence upon men 
and manners. But the wealth of agriculture is attended 
and ennobled by a train of moral consequences ; that of 
commerce is only useful in its material form. The one 
vitiates, the other simplifies the habits of the people ; the 
one undermines, the other stancheons the bulwark of the 
State. The wealth of agriculture is that whose value comes 
from its sufficiency to satisfy the wants and the desires 
which it provokes. It is that wealth which Seneca de 
scribes in saying, " If you live to opinion you never will be 
rich ; if you live to nature you never will be poor." The 
primitive pursuits, the simple tastes, the limited cravings 
of an agricultural community are bounded by their acqui 
sitions, and contentment cheerfully supplies the place of 
opulence. Not so with those riches which are gathered 
from the spoils of war or the commercial intercourse of 
naticfris, for these are evermore creating that insatiable 
thirst for profusion and display ; that love of splendor 
which vents itself in the boast, "I will tear down my barns 
and build greater." Nor is agriculture without its liberal 
tribute to the material resources of the State. Plutarch 
tells us that at Rome the public treasure was kept in the 
temple of Saturn as an intimation and monition to the 
people that agriculture is the source of wealth. And such 
was the theory of the Roman empire in the great day of its 
grandeur and renown before the Augustan age, and the 


luxury of the succeeding generations had sapped the 
foundations of its virtue and its strength. In further 
illustration of our argument, we refer to the fact that next to 
gold and silver, which, from their peculiar adaptation, form 
an arbitrary standard of value, and are therefore used as 
money, come the products of the soil, which constitute a 
secondary standard, being frequently employed as a sub 
stitute for money and used as a medium of exchange. This 
is especially the case in the Western States of the Union, 
where whole communities exist by bartering the produc 
tions of the earth for the commodities of traffic, and espe 
cially for family supplies. If gold and silver have a stand 
ard, and, comparatively speaking, an unchanging value, so, 
within a more limited degree, have wheat and barley. It 
is a source of gratulation that this system has been freely 
adopted in our own State, so that a custom has arisen and 
is growing into favor among farmers in the agricultural 
districts to procure their commodities from the neighboring 
towns upon a temporary credit, and pay the debt in grain 
after they have harvested their yearly crops. 

Again, agriculture stimulates and fosters the patriotic 
sentiment of a people. While society around him is shift 
ing, transitory and unsettled, prone to the spirit of adven 
ture or the temptations of a nomadic life, he who tills the 
soil becomes, as it were, a portion of its substance, acquires 
an attachment for the associations which surround him, 
grows fixed and local in his inclinations and his habits, and 
permanently plants his household gods amid those scenes 
where his broad acres spread to form a possession for him 
self, a patrimony for his children, and where he fancies that 
a brighter landscape greets his eye and a sweeter music 
carols in his ear than anywhere on earth beside. And 
thus he learns to love the country to which his fortunes 
must forever cling. As the roots of a tree derive their 
nourishment, so the foundations of society derive their 
strength from the culture of the soil. It was her devotion 
to agricultural pursuits that rendered Poland so glorious in 
her struggle against tyranny so deeply imbued with the 
spirit of freedom that the whole civilized world grew sym- 


pathetic in her cause, until the very name of Pole, whether 
applied to those who chafed at home under the thrall of 
despotism, or those who were sorrowing abroad in exile, 
became a symbol of the love of country. But the influence 
of agriculture stops not here. "With its promotion comes a 
consequent decrease of crime. Not in the quiet homes of 
husbandry which dot the hill-side and the plain ; not where 
the farmer s broad domain invites to daily toil and sweet 
repose ; not where the valleys sport and glow with the rich 
plumage of the nodding grain, does guilt abide or skulk or 
dare to show its face, but in the crowded dens and poisoned 
haunts of the corrupted city, where misery and vice hold 
carnival, and all which greets the eye or sense attests the 
truth of the quaint maxim that "God made the country, 
but man made the town." No. The spread of farms is 
fatal to the growth of penitentiaries. 

It is equally a noticeable and gratifying fact that in Cali 
fornia, as men gradually lost those vagrant habits and tur 
bulent propensities which pertained to their earlier condi 
tion, no longer devoting themselves exclusively to the pre 
carious pursuit of gold, but settling down into the more 
regular avocations and industrial employments of cultivated 
life, the taste for agriculture has progressively increased, 
and a higher tone of morals has succeeded. And still this 
tide of progress rolls along in ceaseless flow, like the tre 
mendous march of ocean. For the first age of California 
was not an age of gold, though gold was the sole object of 
its energetic search. That was an age of iron. The old 
order of the ages was reversed, and the golden age of Cali 
fornia, succeeding the age of iron and the age of brass, was 
destined to come last. It came when men had learned to 
realize that the true gold for which they were to labor was 
not that which glittered in the bowels of the earth, whose 
search corrupted, whose attainment planted in insane asy 
lums those who sought it, but rather that more precious 
gold which waved amid the yellow corn and spread its 
splendor on the tasseled grain. 

This fertile spreading valley of the Sacramento and its 
extensive tributary waters, embracing an area so vast, a 


soil so rich, a productiveness so marvelous, that it seems 
to have been created in nature s sunniest mood ; this opu 
lent expanse of glebe which centuries have fattened, lying 
open to the reach of all who covet its possession, and 
giving forth its liberal increase so glibly as to often yie]d 
spontaneous growth, has now become the lield and the in 
centive for the welcome toil of tillage and of culture. Stim 
ulated by such powerful inducements, agriculture is con 
stantly acquiring an increased extension and importance 
in spite of the meagerness of our populational increase, and, 
in the proportion of its own enlargement, has aided in pro 
moting stability and order ; has improved the moral 
standard ; has prompted a larger disclosure, a more abund 
ant use of our resources with an added dependence upon 
them for our support. 

California is a remarkable and a peculiar State. Stretching 
from north to south through a sweep of latitude embracing 
ten degrees ; spread out between a chain of mountains and 
the sea ; sentineled upon the east by giant cliffs and on the 
west soothed by the ceaseless murmurings of ocean, its rug 
ged form presents the rarest features of the wonderful and 
picturesque. Where, in the wide circuit of the globe, does the 
tourist find a grander spectacle than the majestic elevation 
of Mount Shasta, the vast gorges of Yosemite, the Geysers 
with their frightful chasms and preternatural uproar, the 
colossal forms of the big trees of Calaveras, or the glittering 
splendor of the Alabaster Cave ? Within its strange diversity 
of soil and climate it seems to embrace the qualities of every 
zone. Beneath its surface lurks the costliest store of minerals 
and precious metals, while through its forests, skies, and 
waters range all varieties of game, from the huge grizzly to 
the hare ; from the wild turkey to the plover ; from the 
salmon to the mountain trout. It rears the frigid pine and 
blooms with the magnolia. Its gardens and orchards teem 
with fruit, whether it be the hardy apple or the delicate 
pomegranate, the quince or the orange, the peach or the ba 
nana, the cherry or the fig. From its prolific soil comes every 
form of vegetable life down to truffles, artichokes, and mush 
rooms. Nowhere else within the limits of a single State do 


such profusion and variety appear ; nowhere else can such 
rare contrasts be enjoyed. 

Among all the divisions of the agricultural department, 
it is safe to say the culture of the vine stands foremost. Of 
our entire resources, without exception, this wall ultimately 
prove most valuable, and its future magnitude is quite be 
yond the reach of calculation. The extraordinary adapta 
tion of California for the cultivation of the grape arises from 
the geniality of the climate, their regularity of the surface, 
and the fertility of the soil. No other single State upon the 
surface of the globe exhibits such a vast expanse of territory 
undulating in hills and valleys. And these, through an 
extent of hundreds of miles, are formed so as to present pre 
cisely that exposure which is demanded to give flavor to the 
grape. Although this department is still in its-infancy, yet we 
are discarding all the exaggerations of the press and speaking 
within reasonable bounds when we rate our present annual 
yield of wine at upward of a million and a half of gallons, 
while the number of young vines already planted and hast 
ening on to their maturity is incredible. When we consider 
that the extent of land suitable and rapidly coming into 
use for wine-growing is greater, as has been authoritatively 
stated, than all the grape-producing area of Europe, and 
reflect that three hundred thousand vines and upward may 
sometimes be found in a single vineyard, we are lost in the 
magnitude of the subject. Notwithstanding the recent origin 
of our wine manufacture, the evidence is multiplying around 
us that wherever it is prepared by experts who are skillful 
and experienced, and the grapes are taken from a good loca 
tion, our wine bears favorable comparison with the products 
of many of the European vineyards. It now enjoys a higher 
reputation and more just appreciation abroad than at home ; 
in New York than in San Francisco. Every year s experi 
ence will improve its mode of manufacture and the quality 
of grape from which it is produced, besides imparting to it, 
before long, the indispensable character of age. Already 
do our wines comprise a valuable source of export, finding 
their way in limited but choice supplies to every market of 
the globe. And when we contemplate the startling fact that 


many of the old European vineyards are failing and others 
have quite given out, while the world s demand for this great 
luxury is constantly increasing, we may well believe that 
California, with her virgin soil enriched by the accretions 
of all former time, with her million hills rich in the elements 
of inexhaustible supply, will finally supplant the effete soils 
of Europe, and become the vineyard of the world. Even 
the knowledge of our great productiveness and the pro 
spective choiceness of our wines has not yet reached the 
apprehension of the epicures of London or Vienna, but the 
time will surely come when the former rule will mainly be 
reversed, and the homage paid so long unto the wines of 
Europe will be repaid by Europe to our own. It must be so, 
because our soil, our climate, our formation, all conspire to 
prove that we can soon produce the richest qualities of grape, 
and in such copious profusion that we shall never need to 
quicken our supply, as Europe does, by deleterious aids, but 
shall be always able to make our production the unadulter 
ated, pure juice of the grape. Another and not unimportant 
consequence arising from the cultivation of the grape is, that 
the use of wine as an article of home consumption is sup 
planting and decreasing the demand for ardent spirits. Our 
earlier wines were strong and heady, but more recent manu 
facture has rendered them comparatively light and harm 
less. As stimulants in some form seem to be an indispensa 
ble requirement among every people, that form which is 
most innocuous is best promotive of the public welfare. It 
has been observed that wherever the vine is cultivated 
throughout Europe, the use of wine becomes general among 
all classes, and especially among the yeomanry, to the ex 
clusion of more harmful stimulants. And surely, with the 
facilities which we enjoy for producing the choicest effusions 
of the grape, we may hope ere long to see King Alcohol 
dethroned among our people, and his reign subverted by 
the milder products of our own domestic vintage. 

Of the three great kingdoms of production, agriculture 
had the earliest origin, and after that came manufactures, 
and then commerce. The first dates backward to the Adam- 
itic era, the second to the period of Tubal Cain, while the 


last owes its inception to the enterprise of Tyre. That 
genius for invention which constitutes the spirit of the age, 
has given unto manufactures a commanding prominence. 
And yet, among all the wonders of modern invention and 
discovery, we find nothing to surpass those stupendous 
achievements of human ingenuity and skill which belong 
unto the ancient world. What though we can flash thought 
round the globe by electricity and span the earth with steam, 
yet, with all our progress, we can not rear a pyramid, or 
carve a sphinx, or build an Appian way. What combi 
nations of skill and labor have been able to restore those 
lost arts which produced the bronzes and the coins of Greece 
and Rome, the Tyrian purple, the Corinthian brass, or the 
vases of Etruria ? Who shall equal or revive the hanging- 
gardens of Babylon, the Colossus of Rhodes, or the Temple 
of Diana \ In this sharp contrast and rivaled grandeur of 
the old and new, there exists the cardinal distinction that 
what man s genius wrought in ancient times was wonderful 
but abstract ; what it now contrives is marvelous but use 
ful. A practical utilitarian design gives bent unto the 
thought and industry of the existing generation. 

In California the retarded progress of the manufacturing 
interest has not been owing to an imperfect sense of its im 
portance or to a deficiency in the industry or inventive tal 
ent of the people. In no other country does there exist a 
more profound skill for contrivance, or a more unremitting 
devotion unto labor. As a tribute to our invention, fre 
quent patents are finding their way hither from the Patent 
Office at Washington. Although it is a popular conviction 
that the promotion of manufactures is largely essential to 
our prosperity, yet two causes have combined to interfere 
with this great interest the scarcity of operatives and the 
high price of labor. Indeed, for years, and weary years, 
that slow increase, that almost absolute stand-still of popu 
lation, which resulted from the double influence of a dimin 
ished immigration from abroad and a continued emigration 
from within, has retarded the advancement and almost par 
alyzed the energies of the State. How fortunate the reac 
tion which is now going on ; a reaction which has stimulated 



into new life the enterprise of the people, and produced an 
effect so palpable that what was recently almost a retrograde, 
has again become a forward movement in affairs. Again, in the 
improved condition of the country, the population is enlarg 
ing, while the wages of labor are decreasing to that standard 
which political economy prescribes. With these advantages, 
with the possession of a territory whose formation and pecu 
liarities present the greatest facilities for employing water- 
power and conducting every mode of manufacture, with the 
increased attention of the operative and the capitalist directed 
to this valuable interest, with the growing conviction of the 
instability and harmful tendencies of mining enterprises, 
what is there to prevent us from taking an early stand among 
manufacturing communities, and sharing the important ben 
efits which they confer upon the citizen and State ? Under 
the embarrassments heretofore existing, it is surprising what 
strides we have already made toward success. It is true, 
that beyond the quartz and grist mills, which are scat 
tered through the State, the great mass of our manufac 
tures and manufacturing investments of capital and labor is 
limited to the larger cities, and chiefly unto San Francisco. 
But so much money is invested, so much industry employed, 
so much material created, and such valuable fabrics wrought 
in this department, notwithstanding past impediments, that 
it now has the most complete assurance of success. Many 
a city, town, and village, which at first strove for commer 
cial consequence, and then struggled through the sickly 
influence of failure and decline, will be relieved ; and, by 
its conversion into an emporium of manufactures, will be 
come a prosperous mart of the surrounding districts. Even 
the checkered fortunes of this city, the capital of the State, 
so long the victim of disaster from the ravages of fire and 
flood, might be repaired and her lost influence restored by 
turning in beneath her streets the waters of that river which 
has so often rolled above them, until what was once a 
scourge is converted to a blessing, sounding its praises in 
the music of the frequent water-wheel. This view of our 
condition as a manufacturing people, however strong the 
contrast between what we have done and what we can 


accomplish, does not disparage our past efforts nor under 
value the extent of manufactures at the present time. In 
the recent annual report of this society it is correctly stated 
that "leather of the various kinds, boots and shoes, har 
ness, saddles, whips, every description of cordage, building 
material, granite, marble, lime, plaster, cement, wagons and 
carriages ; railroad, passenger, and freight cars ; woolen 
goods, such as blankets of all kinds, flannels of every 
description ; cloths and cassimeres, carpets ; hats, caps, and 
various kinds of clothing ; glue, asphaltum, gunpowder, 
matches, tar, pitch, resin, mineral paint, spirits of turpen 
tine, salt, soap, yeast powders, starch, vinegar, pickles, 
every variety of preserved fruits, jams, raisins, figs, mac- 
caroni and vermicelli, castor-oil, petroleum ; wines, bran 
dies, and the various kinds of spirituous and malt liquors ; 
paper of every variety ; glass bottles of every kind demand 
ed, earthern and stone ware ; wood, tin, and wire ware ; 
mining, mill, and steamboat machinery, and machinery of 
every kind in use ; agricultural implements and various 
other articles, are manufactured in the State with greater or 
less success ; very many in sufficient quantities to supply 
the home demand and keep up a good and remunerative 
export trade, while others are struggling against the perse 
vering competition of importation." 

And this compendious statement, comprehensive as it is, 
gives but a glimpse of the reality. California is a paradox 
of production. In the strange antithesis which its versatil 
ity involves we find grouped together within the limits of a 
single State the shot-tower and the cotton-mill, the silk fac 
tory and the rope- walk, the refinery of sugar and the pow 
der-mill, founderies of iron and manufactories of wool, glass 
works and oil-works ; here an inceptive establishment for 
smelting copper and there a paper-mill ; here a tannery and 
there an arasta. But if we are struck by this contrast and 
gratified by this variety, our admiration is enhanced in the 
consciousness that all, or mainly all, of the material which 
furnishes these institutions with their staple of supply is 
derived from our own soil, and that our native products have 
but begun as yet to .find the means of their conversion into 


manufactures. Already we number in the State about three 
hundred quartz mills, one hundred and thirty grist-mills, two 
hundred and eighty saw-mills, and forty iron founderies. 
In the manufacturing department of our industry, meas 
ured by the statistics of 1860, the number of establish 
ments was three thousand five hundred and five ; the 
capital invested, twenty-four million dollars ; the value of 
the raw material, sixteen million five hundred thousand 
dollars ; the number of operatives employed, twenty-four 
thousand ; and the value of the annual product of manu 
factures for that year, about sixty million dollars. To 
these figures we may add an increase for the present 
year of nearly fifty per cent., which will cause our an 
nual product to approximate a value of one hundred 

Christianity and civilization, those twin sisters of a birth 
divine, starting from the point where Eden bloomed, have 
been moving hand in hand together all through the ages, 
and all round the globe unto the utmost reaches of the West. 
And here to-day we greet them with glad voices and with 
loving eyes. When Jacob, gazing eastward for the Orient, 
declared that his blessings should prevail "unto the utmost 
bound of the everlasting hills," what other boundary of 
earth could he have thus foreshadowed than this fair land, 
whose rugged peaks fringe the Pacific s shore. That bless 
ing, never failing, though pronounced so long ago, was 
designed to find its latest lodgment here, as the remotest 
point in stretch of distance and in lapse of time. Here, at 
this western margin of the globe, our pioneers have come 
into a heritage which rivals the prophet s picture of the 
land of promise ; " a land of brooks, of water, of fountains 
and depths that spring out of valleys and hills ; a land of 
wheat and barley, and vines, and fig-trees, and pomegran 
ates ; a land of oil, olive, and honey ; a land wherein thou 
shalt eat bread without scarceness thou shalt not lack any 
thing in it ; a land whose stones are iron, and out of whose 
hills thou mayest dig brass." Nor is this all. For Cali 
fornia was no less the offspring of political necessity than 
of divine appointment. By a wonderful analogy the des- 


tiny of nations lias followed that same law which ruled 
among the chosen people. And when the poet said, 

" Westward the star of empire takes its way," 

his words were no less a delineation of the past than a pre 
diction of the future. Yes, ever and forever westward has 
that star moved on from its first rising in the east. Asia 
"beheld its earliest light when it illumed the pride of 
Babylon and Nineveh, and the kingdom of Darius. Europe 
next grew radiant in its beams when it gleamed on the 
might of Greece and Rome, and bathed the modern Pow 
ers in its rich effulgence. Yet, still it glided on to pour its 
latest splendor down upon America with a pervading glory 
that kept ever spreading on across the continent until it fell 
on California, the empire of the West, the land where grows 
the olive and the vine, where sounds the anvil and the 
loom, where shines the silver and the gold, whose wide 
extended sway, broad as the elements, controls the wave 
with Neptune s trident, the fire with Vulcan s hammer, 
the air with the caduceus of Mercury, and the earth with 
Ceres teeming horn. 

O California, prodigal of gold, 

Rich in the treasures of a wealth untold, 

Not in thy bosom s secret store alone 

Is all the wonder of thy greatness shown. 

Within thy confines, happily combined, 

The wealth of nature and the might of mind, 

A wisdom eminent, a virtue sage, 

Give loftier spirit to a sordid age. 



IN" the spring of 1846, General Castro in the North, 
and Pio Pico, the Governor in the South, were 
waxing hot against each other, and preparing for 
new conflicts, when the apparition of Captain 
Fremont, with his small surveying party of old 
mountaineers, and the hardy and indomitable pioneers of 
the Sacramento Valley, and the Bear flag, put an end to 
their dissensions. Castro had himself prepared the way for 
this aggression, by driving Fremont and his surveying party 
out of the Mexican settlements, a few months before. The 
colony on the Sacramento necessarily sympathized with 
Fremont ; and rumors, more or less well founded, began to 
run through the valley of hostile intentions toward all 
American settlers. But resentment, and anticipations of 
evil, were not the sole cause of this movement. There can 
not now be a doubt that it was prompted, as it was ap 
proved, by the Government of the United States ; and that 
Captain Fremont obeyed his orders no less than his own 

Fremont was still on the northern side of the Bay of San 
Francisco when the American flag was hoisted at Monterey, 
on the ever memorable seventh day of July, 1846. 

Before the war, the Government of the United States had 
fully determined, so far as that matter rested with the execu 
tive, upon the conquest and permanent retention of California, 
as soon as the outbreak of war should offer the opportunity. 
Orders, in anticipation of war, were issued to that effect, 
and it was under these orders that California was actually 
taken. The danger of that day was, that England would 
step in before us. Her ships were watching our ships on 
the coast of Mexico. The British pretext, it is said, was to 
have been to secure an equivalent for the Mexican debt due 
to British subjects ; and it is understood that there was a 
party here who favored this design. 

Because Commodore Sloat did not rush to the execution 


of the orders issued in anticipation of war, on the very first 
report of a collision between the United States and Mexico, 
the anxious Secretary of the Navy, dreading to lose the 
prize, hotly censured him in a letter, which reached him 
after the event had broken the sting of its reproaches, and 
served only to assure him how well he had fulfilled the 
wishes of his Government. The flag of the United States 
was no sooner flying, than the Collingwood entered the Bay 
of Monterey. There had been a race between the Colling 
wood and the Savannah, What a moment was that for us, 
and for the world ! What if the Collingwood had been the 
swifter sailer, and Sloat had found the English flag flying on 
the shore ! What if we had been born on another planet ! 
The cast was for England or the United States, and when 
the die turned for us, the interest was at an end. Ran 
dolph" s Oration before tlie Society of California Pioneers, 
San Francisco, 1860. 


HAD planned to make an ascent of the Buttes, 
but the morning broke cloudy and rainy, much 
to my discomfiture, and I closed my heavy eyes 
to sleep, with the consoling reflection that I was 
spared another hour of somnolency. And it was 
not until after the small excitement of breakfast that the 
utter desolation of my situation broke upon me. What 
would I do, all this rainy day, with no companionship, 
save the rough miners, with whom I had so little acquaint 
ance ? Books there were : the inevitable " Patent Office 
Reports" and " Louisa, the Lonely Orphan" to the latter 
of which I desperately betook myself, though my eyes 
often wandered from the turgid page to watch the wreaths 
of mist rolling down over the rugged face of the Buttes, or 
the rain falling in slanting sheets between the sides of the 
ravine on which the house is situated ; morose, from its 
dampening influence, "Buttes," the dog, crouched beneath 


the long table, and the draggled rooster skulked, in- 
gloriously, under a manzanita bush. But after a few hours 
of patient fretfulness, the rain "held up" a little, and 
throwing aside the sorrows of the "Lonely Orphan," I 
gladly sallied out to the hill- side opposite. 

On my way across the ravine I found a green-looking 
snail, buff-colored, round, and about three inches long ; a 
repulsive looking fellow, slimily slipping over a broad 
green leaf. I wonder how it would seem to be a snail, 
carrying one s house and home wherever sweet fancy led ? 
If ignorance be bliss, the snail must be a happy fellow, as 
he slides along inanely through life. But there are many 
human snails, lymphatic, lazy creatures who know neither 
joy nor sorrow, from the cradle to the grave, and spend life 
about as agreeably to themselves and others as this fat 
fellow whom I left on his slimy roost. It was hard work 
climbing up the steep mountain side, slippery as those 
famous stairs up which James Crow was fabled to have 
performed such gymnastic feats. To add to my growing 
perplexity, the rain began to fall again, and I was fain to 
seek shelter under the lee of some projecting rock, while 
the eddying gusts sent me forth again ; just so a man some 
times seeks in domestic bliss shelter from the woes of the 
outer world, only to be driven forth again by the ill- 
tempered wife. 

The rain fell pitilessly ; my thin boots were wet through, 
and the sharp quartz cut them like glass. Scrambling up 
the wet hill -side, I discovered, with joy, a huge sugar pine, 
whose trunk had been hollowed by fire, and offered a 
roomy retreat for me from the storm without. Here I en 
sconced myself and gazed with undisturbed serenity upon 
the "raging element," which fell in slanting torrents 
around me. Before me rose, in faint and fainter outline, 
the steep hills which mark the course of the Yuba, the fire 
upon their summits blending with the steel-blue, misty sky 
above. Eastward the firmament hung cold and leaden over 
Washoe valley, just as the clouds of adverse fortune have 
settled over the prospects of many a poor adventurer in 
that famous country. But they shouldn t have gone to 


Waslioe, but have come up to Sierra Buttes and made their 
fortune in some of the rich quartz leads which are crying 
out to be opened. 

Away to the westward I discern a path of blue which I 
suppose hangs over the city which I call my home. City 
did I say ? It scarcely seems that such an enormity exists 
that there is a place where the din of machinery and the 
roar of trade burden the air. Here, so utter and so pro 
found the solitude, that one thinks that such noises and 
sights must belong to another planet. Here the mists roll 
coldly over the silent tree-tops, the ceaseless rain patters on 
the leaves, the chickadee pipes in the branches overhead, 
the prying ant runs across my knee, and these are the only 
sights and sounds which, meet the eye or ear. And as I sat 
here, watching the change of the air, my thoughts and 
fancies found vent in rhyme in some such disjointed way 
as this : 

Is there, beneath this world s expansive rim 
Of circling hill, and grand old forest dim, 
A more secluded or a moister spot 
Where I could climb ? I rather reckon not. 

Oh, can it be, that off there in the West, 
Beneath that patch upon the sky s dark vest, 
Just large enough, without a waste of stitches, 
To make a Hollander a pair of breeches ? 

Oh, can it be that there does still exist, 
Below the blue and far beyond the mist, 
Such things as bills, insufferable to mention, 
Attachment laws, the enemy s invention ? 

Bonds, deeds and mortgages and such like trash, 
Including that which worldly folks call " cash ?" 
And can it be that slander, pride, and sin 
Grow rank, outside the hills which shut me in ? 

These pine-trees sighing on their rocky slope, 
Have many a blasted top, not blasted hope ; 
The squirrel, safe beneath the firm-set rocks, 
Cares not a nut for fierce financial shocks. 


And here, remote from city and from plain, 
" Unawed by influence and imbribed by gain," 
I, and the cricket and the chickadee, 
Defy the world, within our hollow tree. 

The rain ceased, the triangle rang out the hour of dinner 
in the ravine below, and so incontinently quitting my 
retreat, I descended to sublunary things. In the afternoon 
I made another exploration, and fortunately happened upon 
a cabin which appeared to be temporarily vacant. Here 
were books : Sears Pictorial Abominations, Moore s Melo 
dies, Fox s Book of Martyrs, and Abbott s Life of Na 
poleon, in which latter fascinating romance I forgot the 
inclemency of the remainder of the day. 


DOWNIEVILLE, Sept., 1860. S. F. Mirror. 


SHE greatest recorded earthquake, within the 
limits of the United States, occurred in New 
Madrid, then a small village upon the Missis 
sippi, since in the State of Missouri. The agita 
tions of this terrible convulsion commenced at 
2 o clock on the morning of the 16th of Decem 
ber, 1811. The inhabitants were aroused from their slumbers 
by a deep rumbling noise, like heavy thunder in the- 
distance, accompanied with a violent vibratory movement 
of the earth from the southwest to the northeast, so violent 
at times that the people were unable to stand upon their 
feet without holding on to something for support. 

It was dangerous to stay in their dwellings, for fear they 
might fall and bury them in their ruins ; it was dangerous 
to be out in the open air, for large trees would be breaking 
off their tops by the violence of the shocks, and continually 
falling to the earth, or the earth itself opening in dark, 
yawning chasms, or fissures, and belching forth muddy 


water, large lumps of blue clay, coal and sand, and when 
the violence of the shocks was over, moaned and slept, 
again gathering power for a more violent commotion. 

On this day, twenty-eight distinct shocks were counted, 
all coining from the southwest and passing to the northeast, 
while the fissures would run in opposite direction, or from 
the northwest to the southeast. 

On a small river called the Pemisco at that time, stood a 
mill owned by a Mr. Riddle. This river blew up (such is 
the expression used by the narrator) for a distance of nearly 
fifty miles, the bed being entirely destroyed, and the mill 
swallowed up in the ruins, and an orchard of ten acres of 
bearing apple-trees, also belonging to Mr. Riddle, nearly 
ruined ; the earth in these explosions would open in fissures 
from forty to eighty rods in length, and from three to five 
feet in width ; their depth none knew, as no one had 
strength of nerve sufficient to fathom them, and the sand and 
earth would slide in, and water run in, and soon partially 
fill them up. 

After the earthquake had subsided, there was not a 
perfect row of trees left in this orchard one-half destroyed, 
some leaning in one direction, others directly contrary ; some 
covered to the limbs in these chasms as they filled up, and 
others with their roots turned entirely out of the earth. 

Large forest-trees which stood in the track of these chasms 
would be split from root to branch, the courses of streams 
changed, the bottoms of lakes pushed up from beneath and 
form dry land, dry land blow up, settle down, and form 
lakes of dark, muddy water. 

Where the traveled, beaten road ran one day, on the next 
might be found some large fissure crossing it, half filled 
with muddy, torpid water. It was dangerous to travel 
after dark, for no one knew the changes which an hour 
might effect in the face of the country, and yet so general 
was the terror, that men and women and children fled to the 
highlands to avoid being engulfed in one common grave. 
One family, in their efforts to reach the highlands by a road 
they all were acquainted with, unexpectedly came to the 
borders of an extensive lake ; the land had sunk, the water 


had flowed over it or gushed up out of the earth and formed 
a new lake. The opposite shore they felt confident could 
not be far distant, and they traveled on in tepid water, from 
ten to forty inches in depth, of a temperature of 100 degrees, 
or over Iblood heat, at times of a warmth to be uncom 
fortable, for a distance of four or five miles, and reached 
the highlands in safety. 

On the 8th of February. 1812, the day on which the 
severest shocks took place, the shocks seemed to go in 
waves, like the waves of the sea, throwing down brick 
chimneys level with the ground, and two brick dwellings 
in New Madrid, and yet, with all its desolating effects, but 
one person was thought to be lost in these commotions. 

The morning after the first shock, as some men were 
crossing the Mississippi, they saw a black substance 
floating on the river, in strips four or five rods in breadth 
by twelve or fourteen rods in length, resembling soot from 
some immense chimney, or the cinders from some gigantic 
stove-pipe. It was so thick that the water could not be 
seen under it. 

In the Mississippi River, about five miles above what was 
then called the first Chickasaw Bluffs, but in later times 
Plum Point, was an island about three miles long, covered 
with a heavy growth of timber, which sank in one of these 
shocks to the tops of the trees, which made the navigation 
extremely dangerous in a low stage of the river. 

About four miles above Paducah, on the Ohio River, a 
large circular basin was formed, more than one hundred 
feet in diameter, by the sinking of the earth, how deep no 
one can tell, as the tall, stately oak sank below the tops of 
the tallest trees. The sink filled with water, and continues 
so to this time. 

For one whole hour the mighty current of the Mississippi 
was turned backward toward its source until its dammed- 
up waters were able to break through the barrier ; boats 
were dashed to pieces and drifted about like feathers, or 
thrown out on the banks, while amid the awful commotion, 
loud rumblings were heard, and the electric fires flashed up 
and down and every way through the air. A few years ago, 


it was said that forests and cane-brakes were still visible at 
the bottom of lakes then formed. The devastation extended 
over a tract of country three hundred miles long, from the 
mouth of the Ohio to the St. Francis River. In some places 
mud and water were thrown over the tops of the tallest 
trees, and great fissures broke in the ground, running uni 
formly from the northeast to the southwest. The people 
observing this, cut down trees at right angles with the 
direction of the fissures, and climbing thereon, escaped 
being engulfed. 

Hundreds of these chasms were discovered seven or eight 
years after the calamity ; and as late as 1846 they still 
appeared like artificial trenches dug by some great army. 
They were generally parallel, and ranged from ten to forty- 
five degrees west of north. The region is still called " The 
Sunk Country," and its extent along the White Water is 
some eighty miles north and south, and thirty miles east 
and west. Humboldt remarked that as one of the most 
wonderful convulsions known to history, since the vibra 
tions continued through several months, and finally cul 
minated in the destruction of Caraccas. 


{HE history of these islands, commonly called the 
Sandwich, but more properly the Hawaiian 
group, is the history of mightier kingdoms of 
the earth, confined within a more limited range 
and condensed into a smaller space of time. The 
former name was given to" the group by Captain 
James Cook, their discoverer ; but it is not recognized in 
the constitution and laws of the islands, in which formal 
and authoritative records they are invariably called the 
HAWAIIAN ISLANDS, which is also the designation employed 
by the inhabitants. Since 1778, from which we date their 
discovery, up to the present time, the archipelago has 


passed through wars, revolutions, plagues and pestilence, 
anarchy, religious persecutions, conversion to Christianity, 
and religious schisms, such as has required ages in the more 
civilized nations of Europe to accomplish. Civil war deso 
lated the country until finally a Polynesian Alexander 
united under his sway the whole of the eleven islands, and 
the descendants of Kamehameha the First reign to this day. 
The islanders had their traditions likewise, which, of course, 
were mixed up with much superstition. A white man, who 
carried a god with him, and whose memory was worshiped, 
had come among them in the dim past ; fragments of names 
from Tahiti, and memories of large canoes from the south, 
were extant prior to the time of Cook, and the islands were 
perfectly cognizant of the existence of that cluster. They 
also preserved the genealogy of their kings, going far into 
the remote past, to a period equal to a thousand of our 
years ; and extraordinary events, such as great floods or 
earthquakes, or sudden risings of the sea, were always 
handed down from father to son. Many of their names 
have a similarity with those of Tahiti, New Zealand, and 
the Society Islands, and ethnography would class them 
with the Malay race. Names of some of the islands of the 
Marquesas are likewise to be met with, and a tradition still 
exists of a large expedition having been fitted out and sail 
ing away in double canoes for Tahiti, returning after a 
lengthened absence with wondrous accounts of the fertility, 
riches, and climate of the place, and the exceeding fairness 
of the inhabitants. It is strange to note the influence which 
beauty has upon savages. The Sandwich Islanders, for 
some reason or other, have red eyes, and the thing that 
struck them most on the arrival of Captain Cook and his 
crew was the clear brightness of their eyes, and therefore it 
was that they were predisposed to pay them divine honors. 
They particularly noticed, on the other hand, the absence of 
the soft guttural tongue peculiar to themselves, and talked 
of their visitors as the men with the harsh voices. One can 
well understand Cook s men, accustomed to rough it in all 
climates, and with a certain propensity for rum, not having 
the most melodious voices. 



Of the eleven islands that form the Hawaiian group, but 
six are of any consequence, and they are named as follows, 
commencing with the most northerly, in latitude 22, longi 
tude 160, and ending with the most southerly, latitude 20, 19, 
longitude 155, 156 ; Kauai, 22 miles long and 24 miles broad ; 
Oahu, 46 miles long and 25 miles broad ; Molokai, 40 miles 
long and 7 miles broad ; Lanai, 17 miles long and 9 miles 
broad ; Maui, 48 miles long and 30 miles broad ; Hawaii, 
88 miles long and 73 miles broad. The other five islands 
called, respectively, JSfiihau, Kahoolawe, Molokini, Lehua 
and Kaulu, are but mere rocks, covered with brushwood 
or a stunted vegetation, and some of them the haunts of 
innumerable sea-birds. 

Kauai. Kauai, which is about seventy miles from Oahu, 
is a beautiful island, and perhaps the most fertile of any of 
the cluster. A fine broad river flows by the town of 
Waimea, fed by the mountains that raise their broad masses 
to the northward. This is, perhaps, one of the reasons of 
the fertility of this land. The high lands are all to wind 
ward, and whilst these exposed slopes are bare and precipi 
tous, their southeastern declivities, sheltered from the rude 
wind, are covered with dense forests, and the mountain 
peaks, attracting the ocean-fed clouds, distribute their con 
tents on the vales below. It is seldom that these heights 
are free from cloud or mist, and the constant rain forms 
miniature waterfalls that are continually bringing diluvium 
to the plains on the sea-shore. Besides the capital, Waimea, 
there are two other villages or small towns, called Waihea 
and Hanapepe ; but the gem of the island is the late Mr. 
Wyllie s plantation at Hanalei. A small land-locked bay, 
with a valley extending some five miles inland, watered by 
a never-failing river, and the deep tropical vegetation that 
prevails all around, render this spot one the most beautiful 
in the island. The evidence of labor in the cultivated fields 
of sugar-cane, and the beautiful residence of the owner of 
the estate, add a charm to the scenery ; the only objection to 


the harbor being a dangerous sand bank, formed by the 
river at its junction with the ocean, which caused the loss 
of the king s favorite yacht, The Pride of Hawaii, in 1824. 
There is communication with Honolulu, by schooners and 
a small screw steamer. Kauai is famed for its mulberries, 
and the silk-worm thrives well in the unexposed parts 
of the island. The population of Kauai, in 1860, was 
148 foreigners and 6,339 natives; being a decrease, since 
1853, of 504 inhabitants. We shall have to speak of this 
decrease of population in the island, and its cause, further 

OaJm. We now come to Oahu, the most important of 
the,group, on account of the town of Honolulu, the capital, 
being on it, and its port the only really known good one in 
the Sandwich Islands. Hilo, in the Island of Hawaii, was 
formerly the capital ; but the discovery of a coral reef in 
the Bay of Honolulu, that formed a natural ^breakwater to 
the swell of the Pacific, caused the seat of empire to be 
removed there by Kamehameha the First, after he had sub 
jected the Island of Oahu to his rule. The first view of 
Honolulu on entering the harbor is very picturesque ; on 
the east is the landmark called Diamond Hill so called 
because it was supposed that precious stones were to be 
found there ; then, again, to the north, is another extinct 
crater the well-known Punch Bowl Hill, on the top of which 
is a battery and telegraph. Behind x the town are several 
small salt lakes, which are artificially dammed up in order 
to collect the crystals as they form by evaporation. From 
that stretches the lovely Nuuana Valley, the pride of dwell 
ers in Honolulu of which, more anon. The background 
to this lovely scene is formed by the Kona range of 
mountains, which rise to a height of about four thousand 
feet above the level of the sea. 


You enter the Bay of Honolulu between two reefs of coral, 
on which the surf is ever breaking, and arrive at the harbor, 
where a hundred and fifty sail can ride with ease and safety. 


This coral reef is gradually extending itself, and at tlie same 
time narrowing the entrance, so that some engineering will, at 
an early time, be necessary to keep the channel clear. One of 
the objects that strikes the voyager on his approach to Hon 
olulu, is the large church built of coral, with a high, pointed 
steeple ; but he will not, as formerly, be surrounded by a 
set of amphibious men and women, all of them clambering 
over the sides of the vessel and offering fruits, more or less 
forbidden. The spread of civilization, joined to the influ 
ence of the missionaries, has checked the unbounded licen 
tiousness and dissipation that prevailed whenever a strange 
ship came to those shores. The hospitable inhabitants of 
Honolulu and they are proverbially hospitable always 
press the visitor to do two things : one is to ride round the 
island, and the other is to go up to the Nuuana Valley to 
the pali, or abrupt wall, that seems to forbid farther prog 
ress. Let us begin by the latter. 

You have a good breakfast, perhaps on some of the mul 
let that Kamehameha the Third built the fish-ponds for, and 
which are esteemed the delicacies of the island ; your break 
fast is washed down with a cup of the famous Kona coffee, 
you mount a horse which looks very like a mustang from 
California, and away you start on an eight miles ride. Pass 
ing the beforementioned fish preserves and salt ponds, you 
enter upon what may be called the kitchen garden of Hon 
olulu ; here you see the taro, the botanical name of which is 
arum esculentum, and which, when baked, pounded, and 
then mixed with w^ater like dough, and allowed to ferment 
slightly, forms poi the favorite food of the Islanders. The 
large, bright, broad leaves of this plant are refreshing to the 
eye, and in addition you see patches of sugar-cane, rice, cof 
fee, clumps of banana trees, lime groves, and rows of cocoa- 
nut trees ; whilst through the valley flows the bright and 
limpid river, turned from its course, as it approaches the 
town, into hundreds of small water-courses, each having its 
allotted task of irrigation, for without water nothing thrives 
on this thirsty volcanic soil. This work of irrigation is sup- 


ported by the Government. You ride on and see the hills 
that fringe the gradually narrowing valley, covered here and 
there with flocks of sheep, and the tinkling bell of their 
leader is all that breaks the silence ; again you come upon 
a herd of half wild cattle, who stare at you as one would 
suppose the natives gazed when first the white man stepped 
upon their shores. The valley narrows and the hills grow 
higher and greener, and the forest more dark and somber ; 
here and there a bread-fruit tree, with its strangely cut 
leaves arid ungainly trunk breaks upon the view, or the 
graceful tree fern rises above its neighbors, or the beautiful 
ceiba with its lace-like leaves ; but one looks in vain for the 
once so abundant sandal- wood tree, gone long ago in ex 
change for rum, or iron, or in tribute from a conquered king 
to his victor. Every thing is very beautiful, and the distant 
roar of the ocean breaks upon the stillness without disturb 
ing the sense of absolute repose, for it is now noon, and beast 
and bird and insect life is hushed, and nothing is distinctly 
heard save the monotonous foot-fall of our horses, and a 
sound as of falling water, which gradually increases as we 
proceed on our way up the valley. In about eight miles 
from Honolulu we come upon a series of waterfalls, some of 
them of considerable height but of small volume, and all 
streaming from the tops of the mountains and forming the 
river, along whose banks we had for so long wound our 
pleasant way. We are suddenly stopped by an abrupt 
wall of rock called, in the native tongue, pall on every 
side save by which we entered, are we shut in. Two thou 
sand sheer feet above us is the top of the precipice, on every 
ledge and from every cranny spring long waving plants that 
stretch down as though longing to take us in their tendrils ; 
there is a constant drip from above that keeps them ever 
fresh, and higher up where the sun can strike they break 
out into glorious bunches of flowers. "Thus far shalt thou 
come and no further," says He who ordered the subterra 
nean force to draw this line of volcanic wall across the 
island, for on the other side from that by which we ap 
proach is again a precipitous descent, shutting out a pleas 
ant valley. The Government has, after much expense and 


labor, cut a road along the top of this dyke, but it is tortu 
ous and difficult. It completely shuts out one portion of 
Oalm from the other, and can be compared with the hog s 
back that we pass over to go to the Napa County Geysers, 
only on a much larger scale. Your gallop home will just 
give you time to go up Punch Bowl Hill and see the sun set 
behind the Wianee Mountains, and in the evening you will 
find an epitome of a California circus, which takes immensely 
with the Kanakas. 


The ride round the island is harder work, being from a 
hundred to a hundred and twenty miles ; you skirt the east 
ern end of the isle until you get to Waihua, passing on your 
way a strange salt basin apparently unconnected with, yet 
not rising above the level of, the ocean. It is nearly circular, 
and evidently volcanic, as its sides are lined with scoria ; 
but it is bitterly salt, and in very hot dry weather the evap 
oration is so great that a solid crust forms on its surface suf 
ficient to bear a considerable weight. Waihua is well wa 
tered and has some fine sugar plantations ; rice also thrives 
well in the lower ground. After leaving Waihua the moun 
tains come close down to the sea, and the road runs for about 
forty miles along the coast. At this part of Oahu the grad 
ual rising of the shore, and consequently of the whole island, 
and apparent receding of the ocean, is very striking. Far 
inland you see where the surf formerly broke against the 
precipitous sides of the mountain, bringing down immense 
masses of rock and forming caves into which the sea rushed 
as though seeking to undermine the cliff by the force of its 
unceasing attacks. 

Everybody who knows the Sandwich Islands, knows Dr. 
Judd, the hospitable, noble-looking man, whose interest 
in the group is identical with that of the king, and whose 
wise counsels have in every way proved beneficial to the 
Government. It is here in Oahu that his splendid property 
begins ; cattle raising, wool growing, cane fields, avenues 
of cocoa-nuts, tamarinds, dates, and bananas all flourish, and 
add to the beauty and riches of this princely estate. Ad- 


joining to it is the fine property of the younger Mr. Judd, 
which, although on the eastern side of the island and 
exposed to the strong winds that sometimes blow, is never 
theless well adapted to the cultivation of sugar and rice. 
Kaauee is the most easterly point of the island, and thence 
the road lies across the mountainous district Waihanea to 
the pali already mentioned, at the head of the Nuuana val 
ley ; the view from this point is very lovely. The island of 
Molakai, and, on a clear day, the heights of Maui are dis 
tinctly visible. Along the shore to the north of Honolulu 
is the strange bay or inland lake called Ewa. It lies about 
four miles from the town, and were the entrance to it artifi 
cially improved it would form a formidable rival to the 
present harbor, as it is very capacious and at all times its 
water is as calm as a mountain lake, but a heavy sea breaks 
over a reef at its entrance, rendering it impracticable for 
vessels to enter as it at present exists. 


Horses are procurable at Honolulu, but as every proprie 
tor has plenty of them about his plantation, an introduc 
tion to one of the planters or merchants will always keep 
the visitor well mounted, and if he or she makes herself or 
himself agreeable, an introduction to one colonist is an intro 
duction to all ; but beware, fair lady, or timid horseman, 
for the inhabitants ride like the very mischief, and young 
ladies to the manner born will jump upon a horse, without 
saddle, and gallop away at a break-neck pace. The grace 
ful seat of the natives has often been described as well as 
depicted ; they ride, as is well-known, astride the horse, 
male fashion, with a flowing shawl over their knees in front 
that not only is very becoming as it streams behind them, 
but the peculiar nature of the country renders such a seat 
on horseback better both for rider as well as animal ; indeed 
we would recommend all lady travelers, whether they sim 
ply ride round the island, or pursue the more fatiguing trip 
to the top of the great volcano in the neighboring island of 
Hawaii, to wear the bloomer costume, and ride in the same 


way as the sterner sex. At first it will be strange and pain 
ful, but in a day or two the sensation will wear off and the 
increased convenience will amply repay for the momentary 
sense of awkardness or impropriety. 


The royal family have made Oahu their permanent resi 
dence. King Kamehameha the Fifth has his palace near 
Honolulu, and his great delight is sailing in his beautiful 
yacht and making visits to Kauai. His Majesty is fond of 
foreigners, and is glad of an opportunity to converse with 
any intelligent stranger, particularly if he brings forward 
any scheme for the improvement of the kingdom, either by 
forming companies to work unclaimed lands, or to intro 
duce to the world the valuable woods with which the forests 
of the interior abound. The present king, who was known, 
when on a visit to San Francisco, as Prince Lot, succeeded 
his brother in November, 1863, and, although not so hand 
some as his predecessor, yet possesses the type of manly 
beauty and great size and strength common to the family, 
from Kalaniopua, King of Hawaii, to Kamehameha the 
the First, who united the whole archipelago under his rule. 
There is always that tendency to obesity as they grow old 
that marks all those whose strong muscular development 
is unaccompanied by a corresponding muscular exertion. 
The royal family and chiefs of the different islands have 
always been celebrated for their great strength, and have 
been known to take a full grown man across the knee and 
break his back ; thus it was that when Kalainano seized 
Captain Cook he found that he was physically weak, and 
that he cried out, whereupon he concluded that he was no 
god and killed him with his dagger. 


The shores and bays of Honolulu abound with fish, such 
as the albicore, bonita, flying-fish, baracoota, skate, eels, 
and a large species of prawn, similar to that dried by the 
Chinese ; but the great delicacy among the Oahuans is the 


mullet. The king lias his royal preserves of this delicious 
fish, and as the Romans fattened their lampreys, so are 
these fed daily, though we hope not with the same food as 
the ancients used. A story is told of King Lihiliho and his 
queen, when they were on their ill-fated visit to England ; 
they were taken, among other show places, to Billingsgate 
fish-market, where they saw some of their favorite fish ; 
they immediately took one and ate it raw in the carriage as 
they went home. Hotel accommodation is not over good in 
Honolulu, "but the climate is so exquisite that the visitor s 
time is chiefly passed out of doors, and the hospitality of 
the colonist is so great that any respectable person soon 
finds not only an acquaintance happy to afford information 
as to the neighboring objects of interest, but, likewise a host 
anxious to assist him in visiting them, and indeed no one 
visiting Honolulu stays in the town unless his journey was 
strictly one of business. From fifty to a hundred schoon 
ers and three steamers ply among the islands. The trade 
winds blow regularly, and the time of making a trip can be 
reckoned pretty exactly. 


A description of the climate of Oahu, will mainly 
suffice for the whole group of islands, situate, as it is, just 
south of the tropic of Cancer, and nearly parallel in lati 
tude with Mazatlan on this coast, and Canton on the coast 
of China. It will easily be understood how the dry heat 
that generally prevails in these two last-named places is> in 
the case of Honolulu, tempered by the northeast trades, 
which blow steadily for nine months in the year, and by 
the ocean-bred rains that these beneficent breezes bring 
with them. It is only at Hawaii that, on account of its 
lofty mountains, the trade wind is intercepted, and its want 
is supplied by a morning and evening sea-breeze. Nothing 
can be more delicious than early morning and evening in 
these happy islands ; perchance a heavy rain has passed 
over the country during the night, and as you sally forth 
the air is fresh and laden with perfume, while the rain 
drops, glistening in the rising sun, tremble on the delicate 



mimosa leaves of the tamarind tree, or roll slowly into the 
deep recesses of the palms ; the dry, light soil soon drinks 
up all trace of the storm, and as the sun shines with gather 
ing force, you can only note its life-giving influence in the 
greater glisten of the orange-leaf and the intenser purity 
and fragrance of its blossom. The native lies idly under 
the shade of the banana-tree, or indulges in the more excit 
ing game of breasting the surf outside the coral reef, in the, 
to a stranger, apparently hazardous race where the combat 
ants ride upon the breakers, with no other support than a 
small piece of board, and men and women join, with no 
other clothing than the salt water. To return to the climate. 
From carefully prepared meteorological tables, we learn 
that the average temperature of Honolulu is, at sunrise, 73 
degrees Fahrenheit; from noon to two p. M., which is 
always the hottest time, from 78 to 79 degrees Fahrenheit ; 
and at ten p. M., from 74 to 75 degrees; after that time, the 
radiation of heat sets in, and in clear weather a gentle dew 
falls. The average temperature at the mountainous regions 
of the interior, at an elevation of 4,000 feet, ranges from 48 
to 64 degrees Fahrenheit. In Hawaii, where the mountains 
rise to 12,000 feet and upward, of course this observation 
does not apply ; but at Kanai, the most northerly of the 
islands, snow and hail fall during the winter months, at 
an altitude of 4, 000 feet; but this is on the most exposed 
side of the island. No snow falls on Oahu, but at Maui, 
only a few hours sail off, and within sight, the temperature 
varies, at an elevation of 3,000 feet, from 40 to 75 degrees of 
Fahrenheit, on account of the dampness and consequent 
rapid evaporation of moisture in this locality. June and 
July have the highest range of temperature in these islands ; 
but in no instance has the change of temperature in a single 
day been more than 15 degrees, and that difference is of 
rare occurrence. During the existence of the trades the 
temperature is very even ; these winds sometimes blow 
with considerable force, especially along the ravines and 
steep defiles on the windward side, and are looked upon as 
healthy, on account of their carrying off the miasma and 
exhalations from the stagnant pools of the interior. The 


islands are not in the hurricane latitude, and few thunder 
storms occur. 


No part of the world offers such inducements for the sick 
or valetudinarian as these Hawaiian Islands ; they embrace 
that certain even point of temperature which is said to be 
conducive to longevity ; its inhabitants bear out the asser 
tion in their splendid physical devolopment, and when not 
worn into premature old age by debauchery, in their ex 
treme longevity. To those frames exhausted by excessive 
toil in the mines, to whom winter in California gives a 
recess from toil without a relief from pain, we won Id say 
go and recruit your strength and get rid of your rheumatic 
pains, during the idle winter months, in the healing atmos 
phere of these semi-tropical regions ; go where every 
indrawn breath is soothing and healing, arid where the 
ocean waves bring health and reinvigoration as you plunge 
into their refreshing waters ; go where the noonday heat is 
tempered by the spice-laden breeze as it steals through the 
myrtle grove, or rustles through the bamboo brake, or 
sweeps over the fields of sugar-cane, or quivers in the 
fronds of the tree fern, or casts shadows on the mountain- 
path as the Urge banana leaves wave to and fro. Go, you 
hypochondriac ! and in the beauty of nature find calm for 
your despairing spirit. Go, victim of consumption, and if 
the disease has laid too strong a hand upon you to allow a 
cure, at least you will find a solace from pain and the weari 
ness of long suffering. But above all, go ye healthy and 
strong ones, and climb to the top of those burning moun 
tains ; look upon the greatest active volcano in the world, 
at Hawaii ; see, in the same island, the giant craters of those 
either slumbering or extinct ; stand where the solitude is 
divided between yourself and the great sea-eagle as he sails 
over your head, and where your way through the dense 
forest is ever enlivened by the song of strange birds, or the 
sight of hitherto unknown plants, and trees and flowers ; 
where the orchids lurk in the moist, warm ravines, and the 
parasites overtop the loftiest trees and twine themselves 



from one monarch of the forest to the other, checking their 
growth, feeding on their sap, and finally conquering their 
very lives. 


Nothing exemplifies more the growing importance and 
prosperity of the islands than the yearly increase of the 
exports and imports from the ports of Honolulu and Hilo, 
chiefly from the former of later years. The average value 
of the imports for the four years ending 1853, was 81,225, 175, 
or about a million and a quarter of dollars, and the average 
value of foreign and domestic exports was $609,862. The 
imports for the year 1854 were nearly a million and a half 
of dollars, and the exports slightly less than the average of 
the four preceding years. Of the imports in 1854, $503,506 
were from Atlantic ports, and $348,915 from ports belong 
ing to the United States in the Pacific, that is from San 
Francisco. The exports for 1854 were as follows : Sugar, 
581,777 pounds ; sirup, 28,513 gallons ; molasses, 41^879 
gallons; salt, 5,401 barrels; coffee, 91,000 pounds; hides, 
3,006; goatskins, 16,890; tallow, 15,405 pounds; arrow 
root, 6,166 pounds. The imports for 1857 amounted to 
$1,151,422, and the exports $670,824, being a total amount 
of $1,822,246, of which $1,169,110 were from United States 

About this time a considerable trade commenced to 
spring up between Washington Territory and the Sandwich 
islands, carrying sugar, coffee, molasses, salt provisions, as 
well as foreign merchandise, and receiving in return lum 
ber, shingles, shiptimber, spars, salmon, coal, &c., to the 
great detriment of the Hudson Bay Company and Van 
couver Isle, who had hitherto enjoyed a monopoly of that 
trade. Oranges also found a staple article of export to San 
Francisco, and in 1856 the number shipped was one hun 
dred and seventy-five thousand. 

We will now refer to the trade with the Sandwich Islands 
for the past year. The imports of coffee, which in 1863 
had amounted to 68,085 pounds, fell off in 1864 to 14,721 


pounds, arising chiefly from the increased duty on this 
article in the latter, and the advices of immense arrivals 
from Rio and Manilla, in anticipation of this increase. In 
molasses arid sirup the imports, which in 1863 were 60, 305 
gallons, amounted in 1864 to 355,390 gallons. Pulu had 
gradually come into use in the San Francisco market, and the 
importations for the three last years have "been from eight 
to nine thousand bales. The Hawaiian rice is of superior 
quality, and commands nearly three cents a pound higher 
than No. 1 China ; at the close of the year Sandwich Island 
table rice sold for twelve cents a pound. Of sugar the im 
ports from the Islands amounted to 7,022,922 pounds, with 
a marked improvement in its quality. It was favorably 
taken for the raw grades of grocers sugars in 1864, and not 
as formerly sent to the distillery. The proximity of the 
Islands, the luxuriant growth of the cane, and the large 
yield with no tax of exchange against it, and a light insur 
ance account, which will be less if the agency of steam 
navigation is employed in carrying, will enable the Islands 
to supply us with sugar at a lower rate than any other 
country, particularly when the Government schemes of 
labor emigration is carried out ; as it is, the imports of raw 
sugar from Honolulu in 1864 were one-fourth of the whole 
imports into San Francisco for that year. The brand of 
James McKee is the favorite mark in the market. This 
name will be well remembered by his munificent donation 
of sugar to the Sanitary Commission. The receipts of 
wool for 1864 were 29,200 pounds, at an average price of 
18 to 20 cents per pound. The exports to the Hawaiian 
Islands show a considerable increase. In 1862 they were 
about $300,000, in 1863, $350,000; but in 1864 they footed 
up $660,000, being more than the two previous years to 
gether. The arrivals from Pacific islands were, in the 
three previous years to 1864, about 9,500 tons a year, but 
in that latter year were 17,700 tons, and the departures in 
those three first-mentioned years about 10,000 tons a year ; 
whereas in 1864, they were 21,000 tons. The following are 
the only ports of entry in the Sandwich Islands : in Oahu, 
Honolulu ; in Maui, Lahaina ; in Hawaii, Hilo, Keala- 


keakua (where Captain Cook was killed), and Kawaihae ; 
in Kauai, Waimea and Hanalei. 

Honolulu is destined to be the coal depot for the steamers 
that will eventually run from this port to Japan and China. 
Situated as it is, nearly on a parallel of latitude with Canton, 
at a distance from it of rather more than four thousand 
miles, and from the Japanese Islands of about three thou 
sand five hundred, it is geographically the only location 
where coal, w^ater, fresh meats and vegetables can be pro 
cured during the trip from San Francisco to China. 

Having said thus much of Honolulu and its geogrphical 
importance, we will now resume our description of the 
several islands in the Hawaiian group, the next in order 


Which is not of great importance, being chiefly benefited 
by its proximity to Oahu. Its population is nearly three 
thousand, and its sheep pastures are good, but since 1840 
there has been a great exodus of her people in consequence 
of the attractions of the neighboring isle. At that date the 
population was between five and six thousand souls. Kal- 
uaha, at the eastern end of the island, is a lovely spot ; and 
there are some good coffee plantations on the island. Mol- 
okai was for some time a troublesome neighbor to Oahu, 
but, after having rebelled twice, was finally conquered by 
Kamehameha the First. The second island in size and the 
third of importance in the group is 


This island is of a peculiar shape, with a deep indenta 
tion near its center. On the eastern side it forms a large 
bay, at the center of which lies the town of Wailuka, 
which is beautifully situated at the foot of an extinct vol 
cano, with one side of its crater exposed, leaving a deep 
perpendicular cliff covered with vegetation, and small 
streams trickling down its sides ; it reminds one of an 
immense amphitheater. The small river that flows from it 
to the sea, has lava for its bed ; and huge fragments of time 


worn rock that liave passed through the fire, obstructing 
here and there its channel for the pure water fiows now 
where once the fiery torrent poured forth in its destructive 
path to the ocean. On the other subdivision of the island, 
is the famous Manna Halrakala, the largest and most per 
fect crater in the world. It is oblong in shape, being 
twelve miles by eight, and between two and three thousand 
feet deep. The volcanic force has long ceased in this moun 
tain, and a dense forest vegetation covers its sides and fills 
its crater. A rising port in this island is Lahaina, which is 
situated on the flats near the sea-shore. The soil is very 
rich, and considerable produce is sent in droguers or 
schooners to Honolulu, for shipment to this port, It is 
now, and was formerly still more, resorted to by whaling 
ships ; but Honolulu offers more inducements, and now the 
inhabitants of Lahaina find it more profitable to cultivate 
the sugar-cane, as they can rattoon for seven or eight years 
in their rich soil. 


We now come to the largest, and to the geologist or trav 
eler, the most interesting of the Sandwich Islands. The 
first known, the land whence sprang the kings of the whole 
group, the ancient seat of government, having an area twice 
as large as the whole of the other islands together ; pos 
sessing mountains whose summits overpass the line of per 
petual snow, with the largest explored active volcano in 
the world, Hawaii may justly be entitled to pre-eminence 
in point of attraction, and to be alone worthy of a visit 
from distant shores. There is hardly one among us who 
has not as a child read with deep interest the history of 
Captain Cook s voyages, of his delight at discovering these 
fertile islands, of his surprise at the superior intelligence 
of the islanders, and of his melancholy death, mainly, as 
we now think, through his own imprudence and the out 
rageous reckless manner in which his men treated the 
natives. They were not only well disposed toward their 
visitors, but feared them as superior beings and worshiped 
their chief as a god ; they brought them flesh, fruit, and 


water, denied nothing oven to their lustful requirements, 
and were treated with an overbearing cruelty that finally 
roused the spirit of their chiefs, and caused them to drive 
the strangers from among them. It was only when the 
natives discovered that the bright-eyed white man had all 
their humanity, with less than their physical strength, that 
like ancient idolaters when they found that their image was 
but clay, they despised in proportion as they had pre 
viously adored, and the disaster of Kealakeakua Bay was 
the consequence of their discovery. 

Every thing about Hawaii is on a grand scale. Their 
chiefs were marvels of strength and manly beauty, their 
height was almost always more than six feet, and frequently 
six feet and a half. As we formerly remarked, the climate 
is peculiarly favorable to the development of physical 
vigor. There appears to have been two distinct races of 
men on these islands, one a smaller mongolian type. These 
were treated as slaves, and looked upon as inferior ; the 
other, a mixture of Malay and Caucasian, Avith high fore 
head and fine aquiline features, the hair dark and wav}^, 
and slight beard, bearing very erect and manly. The color 
of their skin was darker than of most nations so near the 
temperate zone, but this may have arisen from the scanti 
ness of their clothing and constant out-door exercise. Such 
were the men that Cook found on Hawaii. 

Exactly on the opposite side of the island from Keala 
keakua Bay is the harbor and town of Hilo, and thither we 
will turn, as it is there that the steamer deposits us fr jm 
Honolulu, and also, it is the ancient capital of the Sandwich 
Islands. The propeller Kilanea, called after the burning 
mountain, sails every ten days from Honolulu, touches at 
Lahaina and other places in the island of Maui, arid thence 
proceeds to different towns all around Hawaii, finally bring 
ing up at Ililo. This is a delightful excursion, as the owners 
of the boat allow the passengers to leave her, and take her 
up again at any point during the trip. You approach the 
island by the westerly side, usually making Kawaihae. 
As you come within sight of land, the three great moun 
tains rise before you : Mauna Kea, the highest and most 


northerly, about 14,000 feet from the sea level ; Mauna 
Hualalai, about the middle of the island, 10,000 feet, and 
Mauna Lou, the most southerly of the three, 13,700 feet 
high. The two former mountains are extinct volcanoes ; 
the latter is but dormant, and at times gives notice of the 
fires slumbering below. You can not see Kilauea, the real 
volcano, from this side of the island, and can hardly realize 
the great height of those you do, so gradually do they slope 
upward from the water s edge. For this reason the ascent 
of the mountains is practicable on horseback. The steamer 
puts into Kealakeakua Bay, calling, if necessary, at Kailua, 
and stays some time, taking in wood and water; after 
which it goes back again to the north, rounding Kohala 
Point, and skirts the shore until you make the entrance to 
the Bay of Hilo. The sail along the coast on a fine day is 
very charming, and reminds the traveler of the view along 
the Island of Madeira, from the Funehal to the Desertas ; 
bold cliffs, cleft with ravines, whose precipitous sides shut 
in green valleys, ending in sheltered bays, where you see 
little white villages and the evidences of cultivation, and 
tiny cascades, that at the distance appear like motionless 
threads of light ; above them all, far in the interior, you 
see the mists driving over the great hills, carried along by 
the trade winds ; but you feel no air where you are, for the 
great volcanic wall lifts its huge barrier and screens you 
from the blast ; the mountains attract the moisture evapor 
ating from the Pacific, and drain the clouds of all their rain 
to feed their reservoirs of snow, which are ever trickling 
under the sun s rays into the streamlets that water the 
plains below. 

You reach Hilo, and, having been ducked by the 
breakers as you are carried on shore by the stout Hawai- 
ians, you find comfortable quarters, and start to find horses 
and guides, or to form a party to visit the volcano. But 
before you start, look at the lovely view from the harbor of 
the town. It is the green side of the island, and from the 
top of the mountains in the distance to the plains at their 
feet, all is a succession of evergreen forests of vast extent, 
and abounding with large and valuable timber, succeeded 


by fertile plains, where the sugar-cane grows well, and is 
being abundantly cultivated. On the shore you see the 
inhabitants fishing or bathing, or enjoying themselves by 
being borne at a thundering pace on the top of the surf, 
darting away from the beach as they appear about to be 
dashed upon it. 

The next day we suppose you start for the Kilauea. The 
first part of your journey is over, the savannahs, already 
spoken of, where you see the natives cultivating what they 
call the upland taro, which, however, is not so good nor 
reliable as the lowland taro, grown where there is abund 
ance of water. You then enter upon the forest and district 
of tree ferns, and emerge upon a wilder scene, as you 
approach the first crater, which is about four or five thou 
sand feet above the level of Hilo. Here you will find your 
road composed of gravel, lava and scoria, and very difficult 
to travel upon, from the soft and broken nature of the 
ground ; you are, however, soon rewarded, for you ap 
proach, by a gradual ascent, the wall of the crater. There 
is a house near the brink, where you can stop and refresh 
yourself prior to the descent of the crater. The best point 
of departure for the descent is near this grass house, where 
you leave your horse. You then go for about five hundred 
yards, and stand on the brink of the- great caldron, for, 
unless during great eruptions, this is the nearest descriptive 
approach to the mass of molten, burning, seething, fretting, 
bubbling, glowing matter that is spread before you. You 
walk carefully, and with fearful steps, across this agitated 
mass, that threatens to burst forth into violence as you 
tread ; you pass by miniature volcanoes, where you can 
study the nature of the great overflow ; here you see jets 
of steam escaping, and there a semi-fiuid, semi-opaque lava, 
slowly bubbling, as though resisting the plutonic force ; 
presently you are startled with a sound like a cannon, and 
see a puff of vapor rising like an inverted cone. At last 
you come to the great rent of 1859, where you see the sub 
terranean fires, not bright, but of a dull, heavy red color, 
as though the burning matter were too ponderous to burn 
brightly, and not sufficiently igneous to be incandescent ; it 


is more in the nature of a vitreous matter, caused by the 
agency of intense subterranean fire, than of any thing burn 
ing by itself, or by force of its own combustive nature. 
Now and then it labors as though in the throes of rebellious 
convulsion ; at such times the heaving mass of dull liquid 
fire rises up to the edge of the great chasm, and then sinks 
sullenly down, as if exhausted by the strife with the 
greater power below. 

But though reluctant to burn, and not feeding its own 
fires, woe to the substance, however apparently durable, 
that comes within its reach ; woe to the land when by a 
supernatural effort, it passes the brink of the calcined preci 
pice that forms its natural prison. Such happened in the 
last great overflow ; first, there were repeated shocks of 
earthquakes, then a shower of stones was cast hundreds of 
feet into the air ; at length the molten mass lazily rolled 
over one side of the crater, and wearing itself a gap by the 
force of its continuous stream, gradually increased in vol 
ume, and set forth in its work of desolation, to the sea. 
The great hard forest woods yielded like tinder ; the great 
Koa, which turns the edge of the woodman s ax, disap 
peared as if by magic ; the Ohias shrank and shriveled at 
the mere breath of the advancing stream. At length the 
stream of lava came to the banks of a river which was 
winding its peaceful way to fertilize the plains, ere it gave 
its tribute to the ocean ; the river was deep, and its flow of 
water unceasing. For three days did the lava stream do 
battle with the snow- fed river ; for three days a column of 
steam and sulphurous smoke was borne upon the wind to 
the fearful inhabitants of the plain ; at the third day, the 
accumulation of obstructed lava became so great that a 
truce to the warfare was completed ; the melted stream 
flowed over the mass hardened by the action of the water, 
and the river, exulting in its victory, flowed under a natural 
bridge, in a stream of boiling water. A mile and a half 
below this phenomenon, a canoe upset and an unfortunate 
native was literally boiled alive. The lava stream at length 
reached the sea ; its volume lessened by cooling and 
being deposited in its course ; but the fiery track remains 


to this day, and the shuddering aboriginal tells you of the 
wrath of the goddess Pele, as evinced by the blasting track 
of vengeance. The track of this eruption is about seven 
miles from Hilo, toward the south. The ascent of the great 
mountains is made more easily from Kailua, on the other 
side of the island. It can easily be made on horseback, 
but the natives do not like to face the snow. The only 
wild animals are wild cattle, which are numerous in the 
highlands. The natives go out in parties to lasso them for 
food ; they are generally called royal property, but that 
does not prevent poaching 

The great beauty of Hawaii is the natural, quiet, lawn-like 
character of its low lands contrasted with the fierce antago 
nistic nature of its high lands ; and this calm of the former 
would appear to have exercised its influence over its native 
inhabitants simple in their habits, confiding in their dis 
positions, indolent from the very profuseness of their pro 
lific isle their only active exercise being either in or on 
their much-loved waters, they indeed realize the wish of 
the poet 

" Of hearts which languish for some sunny isle 
Where summer years and summer women smile, 
Who, half uncivilized, prefer the cave 
Of some soft savage, to the uncertain wave ; 
The gushing fruits that nature gave untilled ; 
The wood without a path, but where they willed ; 
The field o er which, promiscuous plenty poured 
Her horn the equal land without a lord ; 
The earth, whose mine was on its face untold ; 
The glowing sun and produce all its gold ; 
The freedom which can call each grot a home ; 
The general garden where all steps may roam. 
Where nature owns a nation/ as her child, 
Exulting in the enjoyment of the wild. 
Their shells, their fruits, the only wealth they knew ; 
Their unexploring navy, the canoe ; 
Their sport, the dashing breakers and the chase ; 
Their strangest sight, a European face. 

Such was the country, and such is the country still. The 



kindly greeting, the "Aloha," is for every stranger who 
does not insult them. They rejoice when he admires their 
much-loved island ; they long to show him the 

" Quiet nooks where contemplation dwells ; 
Where silence, undisturbed, may reign alone, 
So bright, so calm, so still." 

S. F. News Letter, Dec., 1865. 


ARLY in the year 1850, Dr. Robert Semple 
commenced "building a steamboat at Benicia, 
to run from Sacramento to Colusa, Most of 
the timbers were gotten out in Contra Costa 
County, and the sawed lumber used was 
Oregon pine. At that time, no one engine could be 
procured in the State of sufficient power to propel the 
boat, and no two of the same capacity were to be had. 
The project was undertaken of making two different kinds 
of engines, of different power and stroke, work in the same 
boat. She was made ready for trial about the last of June, 
but she was not a success. She made one trip, was taken 
to San Francisco, the engines taken out, and the hull, which 
cost over $30,000, was eaten up by the worms. It was, 
we believe, on the second day of July that this steamer 
christened Colusa left Benicia, headed for the contemplated 
city of Colusa. The writer of this, then in his eighteenth 
year, was on board. We spent the Fourth of July in 
Sacramento, and on the morning of the fifth left for this 
place. Fremont and Yernon were both "cities" then; 
and there were many other cities on the Upper Sacramento, 
but no houses. The Colusa was the first steamboat that 
had attempted to ascend the Sacramento in low water. Le 
petit steamer "Jack Hays" had made a trip to about as far 
as where Red Bluff now stands, during the winter. There 
was a city there then, and it had a romantic name which 


we have now forgotten. But it is all in ruins now, and not a 
trace of it is left. There had been two or three other little 
boats up the river, to the different cities, during the winter, 
but we encountered first the snags of the Sacramento. 
Colonel Semple had been up the river during the high 
water of the spring of 50, and located the city of Colusa 
at a point about seven miles above here. That was our 
destination. But it took the boat some seven days, with 
the assistance of innumerable Indians, to reach there. At 
Mead s we got on a sand-bar, and in backing around we 
broke the "gearing" of one of the engines, and then the 
boat had to make the balance of the way up, and all her 
return trip, with one wheel. 

Getting tired of so slow a process, and being desirous of 
seeing the city that was to be so famous, we landed on the 
east side of the river, and getting an Indian for a guide, we 
struck out on foot for the city. The Indians then always 
traveled in a kind of dog-trot, and as soon as we landed, our 
guide struck it up. We followed in silence for about a quarter 
of a mile, our guide keeping about twenty or thirty paces in 
advance of us. We hallooed at him to hold up, but he 
thought we wanted him to go faster, and he was equal to 
the task. We were obliged to keep up, for it was the 
wildest country we had ever seen. Through thick timber 
and the undergrowth of pea-vine, wild oats, brush, and 
every imaginable thing, we went, so thick that we won 
dered that the Indians had ever been able to make a path 
through it. But we had no time either for observation or 
reflection. On and on through that dense wood our guide 
" trotted." We have a distaste for a "trot" until now. 
We thought we had trotted over ten miles and have seen 
since that it was aboiit four when our guide stopped. He 
was opposite the " city," but there was no path into it. He 
made signs that we would have to break through the 
thicket. He was entirely naked, but he took the lead, 
tearing through brusli and briar at a rate perfectly aston 
ishing, but he could not trot we had him there. We could 
follow as fast as he could break the road. It was about a 
half mile from the path to the river, and, although he had 


no clothes whatever, and took the lead, we were scratched 
four times as much as he. The city afforded no ferry, and 
our only alternative was to swim. The Indian proposed, 
by signs, to carry our clothes across on his head ; we ac 
cepted the offer, and, for the first time, we swam the Sacra 
mento. Immediately on our arrival we took the census of 
the city, and found the inhabitants to number 000,001. 
Robert Parkhill, formerly of Florida, was the principal 
man of the place, and to him we introduced ourself. He 
fried us a slice of pork and a slapjack, and, after our trot, 
we relished it hugely. 

In the course of a few days the boat arrived, discharged 
her cargo, and left. Parkhill left ; but the city had greatly 
increased in population. The census now stood 000,003. 
The principal men of the place were : C. D. Semple, pro 
prietor of the city and merchant ; William S. Green, junior 
partner, and E. Hicks, "master builder." After consulta 
tion, it was determined to move the whole city to Salmon 
Bend." Acting upon this, a wagon and a yoke of cattle 
were purchased. The lumber was first put aboard, and the 
colonel and the carpenter left. Having a large stock of 
goods lying around under the trees, we had to remain. The 
colonel and Charley, an Indian boy of royal blood, were 
about three weeks in completing the house. We had one 
set of camping utensils, and we had to divide them. We 
had to bake bread and fry pork in a tin plate, yet we kept 
a very extensive hotel. People were all the time asking for 
meals, and did not think of grumbling at one dollar for a 
biscuit that would serve for a cannon ball, arid a slice of 
rusty, fat pork. 

When the goods were hauled we came down, and the 
feat of moving the city was accomplished. Cor. Colusa 



(HE subjoined report by Professor Ausgespielt, 
"M. E.," speaks for itself, and will be read 
with lively interest. Indeed, apart from its 
scientific "outcroppings," its brevity will com 
mend it: "In accordance with your request 
per telegraph, I have made a scientific exam 
ination of the Nemos Company s ledges, and herewith send 
you such facts as I have collected, together with a brief 
statement of my peculiar theory regarding the geological 
and mineral ogical features of your very remarkable mines. 
In passing, I can not omit to express my regret that, in their 
present undeveloped state, I am not able to send you more 
details. The course of the Elephant the principal ledge of 
the group is K". 20 E. S. E., by W. 125 N. The Fedge is 
sixty feet wide, and crops out boldly for fifteen feet ; and, in 
my judgment, it would crop out a great deal more but for 
the fact that its geology presents an astounding idiosyncracy , 
viz., the primary formation having united igneously with 
the porphyritic sandstone of the alluvial period, caused a 
conglomerate deposit of the bichloride of tellurium, thus 
completely upsetting the glacier theory, and throwing us 
back on the patio process. 

Having thus satisfactorily and scientifically accounted for 
the condition of the croppings, which, from the simplicity 
of my theory, you will readily understand, I will now 
proceed to a particular description of the incline. The 
dimensions of the incline are nine feet high by four feet 
wide, and is at present eight hundred and forty -two feet 
deep. At this depth the ledge is far richer in silver than 
near the surface, as we can find ore, not selected, but taken 
promiscuously, that will assay from $3 to $7.75 per ton in 
silver. As a general course, the ledge dips at an angle of 
98 from the perpendicular, thus affording good facilities 
for getting out the ore. The wall rock is composed of 
inferior oolite meerschaum of the lower silurian, and is 
very porous, and with traverse cleavage, and anhydrous 


sulphate of limestone which, by the way are excellent 
indications of permanence. The country rock is sui generis, 
and is almost wholly composed of metamorphic polyglot, 
badly intermixed with jaspery quartz. A level has been 
run at a distance of one hundred feet from the mouth of the 
incline, from which about eight thousand tons have been 
extracted ; and as the cost of extracting was only about $15 
per ton, the rock can be used for building roads, or for any 
other purpose the company may deem proper. I would 
suggest, however, that it might be more profitable to leave 
it where it is. Hoping that this report will prove entire 
ly satisfactory, it is respectfully submitted. Reese River 


>NTIL a very recent period, this romantic spot 
in Nevada County, about forty miles east of 
Nevada City, was almost wholly unknown to 
the public of California. Travelers over the 
Henness Pass and Donner Lake routes returned 
to their homes in the lowlands, and described in 
glowing language the wild and picturesque scenery which 
skirts those highways as they approach the summits of the 
Sierra. Now and then, an adventurous tourist, who had wan 
dered from the great thorough fares of travel, among the soli 
tudes of the mountains, published a sketch from his note 
book, descriptive of a somber forest, through whose shadowy 
glades reigned an awful silence, a crystal stream whose 
banks were fringed with the loveliest of flowers, or some 
magnificent sheet of water, in whose clear waves he had seen 
reflected the fleeting clouds of a summer sky, or the starry 
firmament of night. Yet a large majority even of the read 
ing community had no very definite idea of the climate, 
scenery, or resources of the mountainous region included in 
the boundaries of the present township of Meadow Lake. 
In their minds it was associated with the vision of a dreary 
winter, extending over nine months of the year, and a rocky, 


inaccessible wilderness, closed to the approaches of society 
by impenetrable barriers of snow and ice. The remem 
brance of the ill-fated Donner party cast a shade of deeper 
gloom over the picture which imagination had drawn. 

Still Excelsior did not remain entirely unexplored. The 
demand for water wherewith to work the auriferous claims 
scattered through the valleys and foot-hills of Nevada and 
Sierra counties, had at an early period attracted the atten 
tion of capitalists to these snow-crowned and exalted regions. 
Here, it was evident, might be obtained at the proper eleva 
tions, an inexhaustible supply of the coveted element, which 
could be collected in reservoirs, and conducted by aqueducts 
to less favored localities. Action speedily followed the 
conception, and in the summer of 1858, the first permanent 
structure was erected in the district by the South Yuba Ca 
nal Company. It consisted of a stone wall projected across 
a ravine, the banks of which were some 300 yards apart. 
This wall forms the dam of a reservoir, or artificial lake, 
from which Nevada City, and a large section of country in 
the southwestern part of Nevada County, obtain, in the sum 
mer and fall months, their principal supply of water. It 
measures in some places fifty feet in height ; is, at the apex, 
fifteen feet wide, and is built of solid granite, without a par 
ticle of wood or cement entering into its composition. 

The sheet of water, thus collected and discharged by a 
small gate at the dam, is called Meadow Lake, and lies with 
in the corporate limits of the town designated by the same 
name. The reservoir, or lake, is about two miles long from 
north to south, and between three hundred yards and three- 
fourths of a mile wide, with a depth, in places, ranging with 
the season, of from ten to thirty fathoms. Other enterprises 
of a similar character followed, and they have undoubtedly 
proved of incalculable benefit to several cities, and a mul 
titude of miners and agriculturists in Sierra and Nevada 

No discovery, and not even a suspicion of the existence 
of mineral treasures followed the labors of the first explo 
rers of the district. They passed over ledges, since proven 
to be exceedingly rich, without a dream of the wealth be- 


iieath their feet. A fact, at first view so remarkable, can 
only be accounted for by the peculiar appearance of the 
country, differing in almost every respect from what is pre 
sented in any other portion of California. 

Sometime in 1860, Henry Hartley wandered to these 
mountain solitudes. He came partly, as the writer has been 
informed, with a view to the improvement of his health, 
threatened somewhat with consumptive tendencies, and 
partly to trap the wild game of the mountains, when the 
deep snows of winter should have fallen. ISTo idea of gold- 
hunting seems to have occurred to the hardy trapper as he 
plunged into solitudes more dreary and desolate than the 
lonely island of Selkirk. The long winters of the mountains 
were his choice seasons. Then it was, when not imprisoned 
in his cabin by the fury of the storm, the adventurer glided 
with his snow-shoes over the frozen expanse which sur 
rounded him. In the spring the trapper resorted witli the 
rewards of the chase, to the lowlands, lingered there during 
the summers, and returned with his supplies when the snows 
first announced the approach of winter. Thus passed three 
years of his sojourn in the wilderness, when in June of 1863, 
Hartley first observed, with some surprise, a number of 
ledges about half a mile distant, in a southeasterly direction, 
from the site of the present town of Meadow Lake. In Au 
gust of the same year. Hartley, accompanied by John Sim 
ons and Henry Fentel, to whom he had communicated the 
news of his discovery, visited the newly found ledges, and 
in September made the first locations in Meadow Lake, then 
called "Excelsior" and forming a part of Washington 
township. ./.. 

Spring, as it is seen in other portions of California, is un 
known in these high altitudes. The transition from winter 
to summer is almost immediate. As the period for the inev 
itable change draws near, it would seem that the storm-king, 
throned in the frozen recesses of the mountains, becoming 
conscious that his tempestuous reign must soon dissolve, 
under the genial sunshine of summer, exerts all his remain 
ing strength, and makes a last determined effort to retain 
his dominion over nature. 


The months of March, April, and May, 1866, will long be 
remembered in the mountains for their unprecedented se 
verity. All marks of the narrow trails which traverse the 
summit were obliterated by the drifting snows, and even the 
highways, in many places, were rendered difficult of pas 
sage. As an illustration of the character of the season, it 
may be mentioned, that from the 2Uth of May until the first 
day of June, there was almost constantly a snow-storm in 
and around Meadow Lake. The summer opens with a 
strange aspect in this mountainous region. Instead of fra 
grant flowers, murmuring streams, the hum of bees, and 
carol of birds, so familiar to the denizen of the plains on the 
approach of the summer months, here may be seen moun 
tains capped with snow, streams held fast by frozen chains, 
and icicles pendent from the branches of the giant pines, 
whose lofty heads tower grandly among the clouds of the 

The first storm of the winter of 1866-67, commenced on 
the morning of the third of November ; it was ushered in 
with the usual gales from the southwest, and on their wings 
came the lowering clouds of winter, frowning darkly, as they 
gathered around the mountain-tops. Rain and snow came 
down in heavy showers during the day ; by night the former 
element had disappeared, and the snow-flakes descended 
with noiseless fall upon forest, hill, and glen. At sunrise 
on the fourth, the face of nature was covered with a veil of 
spotless white. No one, unless he has been an eye-witness 
of the scene, can appreciate, from description, the wondrous 
change which a few hours of a winter s storm will effect in 
the appearance of a mountain landscape. At eve the sun 
sinks in purple splendor beneath the horizon ; no sign in 
the heavens indicates to the inexperienced observer the 
coming storm.* The old mountaineer, however, reads nature 
with a different power of perception, and readily discerns 
the portents of the tempest. He sees them in the light 
clouds which hover in the western sky ; he hears them in 
the southwest wind s melancholy sighing through the for 
ests. The last glance at sunset takes in the evergreen pines, 
the stream dancing along its narrow channel, and dashing 


its spray over the grim old rocks which stand in its way 
ward course the lakes whose crystal waves reflect the 
golden hues of departing day ; the next morn the scene is 
changed. The icy hand of winter has been laid on the 
landscape, and the beholder, dazzled and astonished, iinds 
scarcely a trace of the loveliness which enchanted his senses 
the previous evening. The stillness and repose of death 
now reign, where only a few hours before all was life and 
animation. The mountain-tops are shrouded in robes of 
white ; the tall pines, with their snowy wreaths and pendent 
icicles, wear a strange and spectral appearance ; the bab 
bling brook is frozen into silence, and the lake lies cold and 
motionless, its polished surface gleaming like burnished 
steel in the light of day. The scene is no longer beautiful 
it has become sublime. 

The writer feels that he can not, in justice to the subject 
which he has ventured to present to the public, conclude 
this description without an allusion, at least, to the mag 
nificent scenery and glorious summer and autumn climate 
of Excelsior. He has, in times past, been a dweller in the 
mountains, far removed from the luxurious ease of the 
cities, and subject to all the privations of life in the wilder 
ness. He finds an ample compensation for any sacrifice of 
social enjoyment, in the wondrous pictures which memory 
will retain of Excelsior to the last syllable of recorded life. 

Some ten miles distant from the line of railroad travel, 
and in the immediate vicinity of the beautiful lake of the 
meadow, the visitor can find a scene of loveliness and sub 
limity not surpassed on the habitable globe. Let him, on 
some dewy morn, climb to the top of "Old Man Moun 
tain," or the heights which to the westward, overlook the 
pleasant village of Meadow Lake. From those rocky bat 
tlements the soul expands as it contemplates the beauty 
and grandeur of nature. Look well, for the picture which 
spreads before you has been drawn "by the hand of an 
Almighty Artist. In one direction repose a cluster of lakes, 
whose clear waves mirror the fleeting clouds of day. Their 
shores, rising into gentle hills, are crowned with stately 
forests, and decked with flowers as fair as the dews of earth 


ever nourished. Down the mountain sides roll in silvery 
threads a thousand tiny streams, finding rest in the bosom 
of some placid lake, or mingling with the sparkling waters 
of the rapid rolling Yuba. Glancing in another course, at 
the base of Old Man Mountain, the dazzled eye beholds a 
landscape of a sterner character. Huge bowlders of ever 
lasting granite, trees standing apart and in solitary majesty, 
and frightful, yawning chasms make up a picture, wild, 
weird, and desolate, but grandly sublime. The writer has 
]ooked upon the scene at all hours of the day, and at all 
seasons of the year, and never yet without a feeling of sol 
emn awe pervading his whole being. Perhaps the most 
appropriate time to view the landscape is when the storm is 
raging, and the darkness of twilight has cast a somber man 
tle over the face of nature. At fitful intervals, when the 
lightning s glare illumes the scene, and the harsh thunder 
rolls along the granite peaks, one catches for a moment an 
inspiration which tempts him to exclaim : 

"The sky is changed : and such a change ! O night, 
And storm and darkness, ye are wondrous strong 
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light 
Of a dark eye in woman." 

The beauty of the scenery is not the only, nor perhaps 
the chief, attraction of Excelsior. The delightful summer 
and fall climate of the district has excited the admira 
tion of all who have visited it during these seasons. In 
August and September, when the heat of the plains is sultry 
and oppressive, the temperature of the summit is most 
refreshing. The physical character of the country contrib 
utes to this result. The altitude of the district, placed 
between seven arid eight thousand feet above the level of 
the ocean, secures it alike against the assaults of pestilence, 
or the miasmatic vapor of the lowlands. On the other 
hand, its numerous lakes, rippling streams, and dense 
forests, not only afford pleasing contrasts to the eye, but 
diffuse an agreeable moisture through the atmosphere, and 
thus take from it that rareness so generally prevalent in 


mountainous regions. To the invalid in search of vigorous 
health ; to the tourist, longing to sojourn awhile amid 
scenes of unsurpassed grandeur ; to the weary dweller in 
the city, or on the plains, who would exchange, for a brief 
season, the conventional restraints of society for the free 
life of the mountains, Excelsior offers inducements to a 
visit beyond any spot in California. 



BARREL MEASURE Cider and other liquids, 
30 gallons. Rice, 600 pounds. Flour, 196 
Ibs. Powder, 25 Ibs. 

Bushel Measure Wheat, beans, potatoes and 
clover seeds, 60 Ibs. Corn, rye, flax-seed and 
onions, 56 Ibs. Corn on the cob, 70 Ibs. Buckwheat, 52 
Ibs. Barley, 48 Ibs. Hemp seed, 44 Ibs. Timothy seed, 
45 Ibs. Castor beans, 46 Ibs. Oats, 35 Ibs. Bran, 20 Ibs. 
Blue-grass seed, 14 Ibs. Salt, 85 Ibs. Dried apples, 24 Ibs. 
Dried peaches, 33 Ibs. 

A hoop, 18 J inches diameter, 8 inches deep, holds a Win-. 
Chester bushel. A box 12 inches square, 7 and 7 1-32 deep, 
will hold half a bushel. 

A Gallon Measure An English Imperial gallon is 10 Ibs. 
of distilled water at 62 degrees Fahrenheit, when the barom 
eter stands at 30 degrees. 

Land Measure An English Imperial acre is 4,840 square 
yards, or 160 square rods. A square of 13 rods upon each 
side is commonly counted an acre ; it is 9 rods over measure. 
A square 22 yards upon each side is one-tenth of an acre. 

English acre, 4,840 square yards; Scotch, 6,150; Irish, 
7,840 ; Hamburg, 11,545 ; Amsterdam, 9,722 ; Dantzic, 
6,650; France (hectare), 11,960; Prussia (morgen), 3,053. 

Government Land Measure A township, 36 sections, each 
a mile square. 

A section, 640 acres. 


A quarter section, half a mile long, north and south, and 
a quarter of a mile wide, 80 acres. 

A sixteenth section, a quarter of a mile square, 40 acres. 

The sections are all numbered one to thirty -six, com 
mencing at the northeast corner. 

The sections are divided in quarters, which are named by 
the cardinal points. The quarters are all divided in the 
same way. The description of a forty-acre lot would read : 
The south half of the west half of the southwest quarter sec 
tion \ , in township 24, north of range 7 west, or as the case 
might be. 

Mile Measure A standard English mile, which is the 
measure that we use, is 5,280 feet in length, 1,760 yards, or 
320 rods. A strip one rod wide, and one mile long, is two 
acres. By this it is easy to calculate how much land is 
taken up by roads, and also how much is wasted by fences. 

A "Sabbath-day s journey," 1,152 yards, 18 yards less 
than two-thirds of a mile. 

A day s journey, 33| miles. 
! A reed, 10 feet, 11J inches. 

A palm, 3 inches. 

A fathom, 6 feet. 

A reek foot is 12J inches. 

A Hebrew foot is 1-212 of an English foot. 

A cubit is 2 feet. 

A great cubit is 11 feet. 

An Egyptian cubit is 21,888. 

A span is 10,944. 

Board Measure Boards are sold by superficial measure, 
at so much per foot, of one inch or less in thickness, adding 
one-fourth to the price of each quarter inch in thickness 
over an inch. 

Grain Measures in Bulk Multiply the width and length 
of the pile together, and that product by the height, and 
divide by 5,150, and you have the contents in bushels. 

A Ton Weight In^San Francisco, a ton is 2,000 pounds. 
In most places, a ton of hay, &c., is 2,240 pounds. 

A ton of round timber is 40 cubic feet ; of square timber, 
54 cubic feet. 

oap ^t 


" A quarter of corn or other grain sold by the bushel is 
eight imperial bushels, or a quarter of a ton. 

A ton of liquid measure is 252 gallons. 

A firkin of butter is 56 pounds ; a tub of butter is 84 

A bale of cotton in Egypt is 90 Ibs. In America, a com 
mercial bale is 400 Ibs., though cut up to vary from 280 to 
420, in different localities. 

A bale or bag of Sea Island cotton is 300 Ibs. 

Wool In England, wool is sold by the sack or boll of 
22 stone ; which, at 14 Ibs. to the stone, is 308 Ibs. 

A pack of wool is 17 stone 2 Ibs., which is rated as a pack 
load for a horse. It is 240 Ibs. A tod of wool is 3 stone 14 
Ibs. A wey of wool is 6"j tods. Two weys a sack. A clove 
of wool is half a stone. 

The Stone weight is 14 Ibs. when weighing wool, feathers, 
hay, &c., but a stone of beef, fish, butter, cheese, is only 
8 Ibs. 

A Last is an English measure of various articles. 

A last of soap, ashes, herrings, and some similar things, 
is 12 barrels. 

A last of corn is 12 quarters. 

A last of gunpowder is 24 barrels. 

A last of flax or feathers is 1,700 Ibs. 

A last of wool is 12 sacks. 

Coal A chaldron of coal is 58 cubic feet, or by measure, 
36 heaped bushels. A heaped bushel of anthracite coal 
weighs 80 Ibs., making 2,880 Ibs: to the chaldron. 

Wood A cord of wood is 128 solid feet in this country 
and England. In France, it is 576 feet. We cord wood 4 
feet long, in piles of 4 feet by 8. 

In New Orleans, wood is retailed by the pound, and to a 
limited extent in New York. It is also sold by the barrel. 
A load of wood in New York is 42| cubic feet, or one-third 
of a cord. 

Wood is sold in England by the stack, skid, quintal, bil 
let, and bundle. 

A stack is 108 solid feet, and usually is piled 12 feet long, 
3 feet high, and 3 feet wide. 


A quintal of wood is 100 Ibs. 

A skid is a round bundle of sticks, 4 feet long. A one- 
notch skid, 23 inches. A three-notch skid, 28 inches. A 
four-notch skid, 33 inches. A five-notch skid, 38 inches. 


S silver constitutes, with gold, the great me 
dium of commercial exchange over all the 
world, and as in olden times it was the only 
medium, and is so still among the nations of 
Eastern Asia, the following historical reminis 
cences and estimates as to the value of the silver now in the 
possession of men may be of interest. 

The first notice of silver we find in the Bible mentions that 
Abraham received "pieces 1 of silver, and weighed out 
" shekels" of it, which were current money among the 
merchants. It appears, however, that regular silver coin 
was only made about nine hundred years before our era by 
the ^Eginetans (see the Parian chronicle). A Babylonian in 
scription, found by Rawlinson, states that the city of Damas 
cus, after its conquest by Phuluk, had to pay a tribute of 
2,300 talents of silver. Plinius states that Cyrus collected from 
his Asiatic victories an amount of silver which, reduced to 
our standard of the gold dollar, would equal $40,000,000,000. 
The statement is almost incredible, as will appear from the 
following calculations about the real amount of silver in 
different hands, founded on reliable evidence : 
Herodotus states that the nations subdued by 

the Persians paid a yearly tribute of silver 

equal to $15,000,000: they paid this, say, 

ten years, $150,000,000 

Carthage paid to Rome, after the second 

Punic War, $180,000 for fifty years, 9,000,000 

Spain paid to Rome $2,240,000 for twelve 

years, .... . -:< 27,000,000 


Silver was, in consequence, so abundant in 

Rome, that Caligula loaded 125,000 pounds 

on armor and weapons used in the circus, 

worth, at the present rates, $2,500,000 

It appears from Plinius that the silver mines 

of Spain were worked already 2,000 years 

ago to the distance of one and a half miles 

from the surface, and Poly "bins states that 

the Carthaginians had 40,000 men engaged 

there in that business ; the amount they 

took out is estimated at 100,000,000 

The Moors continued this mining very sue 

cessfully, and took out an amount esti 
mated at .-. ( 55,000,000 
After the Moors, the mines were deserted 

until reopened, in 1571, by the Fugger 

family (German), who extracted, from 1571 

to 1607, 15,000,000 

Again the mines were idle till 1825, since 

which time English companies have taken 

out about - 30,000,000 

In Germany, silver mining was commenced 

about the year 700 ; in Bohemia and the 

Hartz in 1000 ; in Tyrol and Saxony in 

1200 ; in England, France, Hungary, and 

Norway in 1400. The total amount pro 
duced by all these countries is estimated at 200,000,000 
But all this was put in the shade when, after 

the discovery of America, silver was found 

in Mexico and South America, where it 

had been mined by the natives for an un 
known period of time, but in so imperfect 

and primitive a manner that the treasures 

found by Europeans has far surpassed 

those in the hands of the natives, large as 

they were. For instance, two beams of 

silver were found by Pizarro, near Cuzco, 

twenty feet long, one foot wide, three 

inches thick ; consequently, containing ten 


cubic feet, weighing 9,000 pounds, and 

worth $180,000 

The ornaments of temples stolen "by the 

Spaniards amounted to 26,000 pounds, ^ 520,000 

All the Mexican silver was used in ornament 
ing temples, &c., not as coin or circulating 

Compare, now, this amount with the results 

obtained by civilized mining : 
Amount of silver smelted at the Pasco works 

from 1784 to 18275,000,000 pounds troy, 100,000,000 
Yearly yield of three mines for thirty years 

after 1827, $2,000,000 per year, 60,000,000 

The mines of Great Potosi, from its discovery 

in 1545 until 1556, $10,000,000 per year, - 110,000,000 
The same mines, from that time till 1778, - 1,000,000,000 
For the last ninety years, $1, 000, 000 per year, 90, 000, 000 
The mines of Peru and Bolivia, from their 

discovery till 1845, - - 2,500,000,000 

The mines of Chili, worked by English com 
panies, from 1836 to 1853, - - 34,000,000 
Mines of Mexico, according to Humboldt, 

from 1550 to 1700, $2,500,000 per year, - 375,000,000 
During the eighteenth century, $23,000,000 

per year, - - 2,300,000,000 

In the first half of the nineteenth century, 

$10,000,000 per year, 500,000,000 

During the last fifteen years, $25,000,000 per 

year, - ; v/ - , ,- - - - 375,000,000 

All these numbers make a grand total of - $8,030,700,000 

It is not likely that the nations of Asia mined as much 
silver as this amount ; the probabilities are that the total 
amount possessed by them before the introduction of west 
ern silver did not exceed $1,000,000,000, which would swell 
the amount to $9,030,700,000 ; and making a further allow 
ance for amounts not accounted for of some $300,000,000, 
the whole amount of silver in possession of man in this 
country would be less than $10,000,000,000 ; only one 



quarter of the amount which Plinius states that Cyrus col 
lected more than two thousand years ago. 

In closing this article, we can not omit mentioning one 
fact which strikes us as a curiosity, that all this existing 
silver is inadequate to pay the debts of the governments of 
two or three great modern nations. 


In American Journal of Mining, N. Y., January 25, 


HATEVER virtues may rightly be ascribed to 
this nineteenth century in which we live, 
humility is not one of them. It is a philan 
thropic age. Never before were there so many 
benevolent organizations, never were the help 
less, the blind, the insane, so tenderly cared 
for. It is a heroic century its sixty -eight years have been 
full of that heroism that does not " set life at a pin s fee." 
It is a democratic age. Never have the people been of so 
much account, and seldom has genius been so rare. It is 
pre-eminently an age of mechanical invention. It makes 
steam bear its burdens, lightning carry its messages, the 
sun paint its pictures. But it is not a modest age. It does 
not lack self-confidence or self-praise. It is brimful and 
running over with egotism. It regards, with self-com 
placent pity, the centuries gone before that did not have 
steamboats, railroads, and telegraphs, sewing-machines, 
cooking-stoves, lucifer matches, steel pens, cylinder press : 
es, power-looms, cotton-gins, gang-plows, reapers, thrash 
ers, apple-parers, turning-lathes, nitro-glycerine, giant 
powder, columbiads, needle-guns, Colt s revolvers, steam-, 
paddies, track-layers, baby -jumpers, chloroform, photo 
graphs, and coal oil. It looks with a kind of commisera 
tion on the ages to come, when the world will have to keep 
oivusing old tools, as human ingenuity and nature will be 


alike exhausted, and there will be no new forms to invent, 
no new forces to discover. If it experiences a momentary 
chagrin because it has not achieved the perpetual motion, 
nor successfully an Avitor, it is consoled with the reflection 
that it has not accomplished the first, because it is impossi 
ble, and that it will, the second, because it is possible. In 
short, whoever has not managed to be born in the nine 
teenth century has been very unfortunate, or has made a 
great mistake. 

Standing in this temple of art, this armory of labor filled 
with the implements with which toil carries on its warfare 
with want, and beautiful with the evidence of its triumphs, 
we may at least claim, with becoming modesty, that the 
world is now fast learning how it can most easily get its 
daily bread how labor can be made most productive, for 
the supply of physical wants. Two other questions behind 
that how the burdens and rewards of labor shall be equi 
tably distributed, and how the time not needed for the sup 
ply of physical wants shall be so employed that the age 
may be clothed with an intellectual and spiritual glory 
equal to its material wealth and power, it has scarcely begun 
to solve questions that may not be rightly solved until a 
civilization shall arise as superior to ours as ours is to bar 
barism, in a future as distant from us as we are from the 
creation of man. 

The problem of daily bread, however, is neither easy nor 
unimportant. If men depended upon nature alone for 
food, upon game, fish and wild fruits, the country would 
be crowded where population averaged one to five square 
miles. The trapper was right, if he would remain a trap 
per in moving farther west, because the settlement was get 
ting too thick for elbow-room when his neighbor built his 
cabin only ten miles away. 

Consider what the world consumes every year. 200,- 
000,000 pounds of flour, and 13,000,000 pounds of meat go 
down the throat of New York City yearly. Multiply by 
1,000,000, and if you can conceive the result, you will have 
some idea of what it takes to feed the world with bare 
necessities. California consumes annually, 365,000 barrels 


of flour, 700,000 bushels of potatoes, 70,000,000 pounds of 
meat, 1,000 tons of codfish, 38,000,000 pounds of sugar, 
5,000,000 pounds of coffee, 1,500,000 pounds of tea, 5,000,- 
000 pounds of butter, 20,000,000 pounds of rice ; wears out 
15,000,000 worth of dry-goods and shoe-leather, and burns 
up, beside houses and mountain towns, 250, 000 tons of coal, 
4,000,000 pounds of powder, 4,000,000 of candles, 1,000,000 
gallons of coal-oil, and 50,000,000 of cigars ; not to men 
tion the 1,500,000 gallons of whisky that annually assist to 
consume us. If all this had to be raised, mined and manu 
factured, or paid for by the labor of our hands, unassisted by 
art, we would have few holidays, and no pageants like this. 
If the world had to be housed, fed and clothed with only 
such crude tools as actual necessity would suggest, the 
many would be slaves to the few, and worn out in their 
service, or all would be the slaves of toil. There could be no 
accumulations, nothing laid up against a bad season or a 
rainy day, and the wolf would be continually at the door. 
Then whoever would succeed in pointing a stick with iron 
to scratch the ground, at seed-time, and whoever would 
teach a dog to guard the sheep while the shepherd slept, 
would be benefactors of the race. The man who would 
discover that salt would preserve meat, would deserve a 
patent of nobility ; he who would tame a horse and make 
him draw a sled and carry his master, would be a king ; 
and he who would make the wind and the water turn a 
wheel to grind the corn, might be worshiped as a god. Then 
imagine that after a day s toil that brought no hope, and 
a night s sleep that brought no dreams of rest, men should 
suddenly awake as into a world of enchantment, arid find 
themselves supernaturally endowed, so that they could 
accomplish with their hands, or by a wish all that we do 
with all the tools, machinery and appliances of modern life, 
as though each had a hundred arms and were gifted with 
magic as though each were winged with swiftness like the 
wind, had sinews of steel and strength like the power of 
steam, and you will appreciate the miracle of artrealize 
what a load of toil invention has lifted from our shoulders, 
what a burden of care it has taken from the heart of human- 


ity. Then, too, you will learn where the leisure comes 
from after actual wants are supplied, part of which goes 
into luxuries, ornaments, books, newspapers, paintings, 
music, houses, schools, churches, cities, culture, part into 
idleness, ennui, whisky, tobacco, fast life, folly, vice, crime, 
and all of which is called civilization. 

But this miracle of art is not the work of a night or the 
glory of an age ; it is the work and glory of the whole of 
man s life on earth. In fable, Minerva sprang armed and 
panoplied from the brain of Jove ; but in fact, art is the 
slowest growth of time. Take as an illustration the art of 
printing. The idea of printing is older than history or 
tradition. It is so natural and easy, it would have been 
strange if the idea of the printed book had not been sug 
gested to Adam, if he had known his letters, by his own. 
footprints on the sand. Seals were in use before the book 
of Job possibly the oldest book in the world was written ; 
and seals used for making impressions contain the whole 
principle of printing. Bricks and tiles covered with char 
acters, impressed upon the clay before it was burned, were 
common not only in Rome and Athens, but in Babylon and 
Nineveh. Wood engraving was brought into Europe from 
the East, long before books were printed. The printing of 
playing-cards probably first suggested the printing of 
books, which was at first simply wood engraving, each page 
being printed upon a block with raised letters. Then the 
letters were separated into wooden movable types ; then 
metallic types were cast. Meantime the Arabs, by what 
processes of thought, by what slow stages of invention, I 
know not, had progressed from using the bark of plants, 
the papyrus of the Egyptian, to the manufacture of paper. 
The method of casting types, so that they could be easily 
multiplied, and the manufacture of paper, were the real 
difficulties in the invention of printing ; when these were 
overcome, the Hoe cylinder press became easy, though it took 
the improvements of four hundred years to attain it. Nay, 
the press sowing newspapers daily all over the land, and 
sending streams of knowledge through all lands, so that 
whoever is athirst may come and drink, was as inevitable 


as the succession of the ages when Job had written : " It is 
turned as clay to the seal." 

Two centuries "before the Christian era, Hero of Alexan 
dria described a steam toy, a mere plaything. After 2,000 
years experiments, suggestions, and improvements, that 
plaything became the steam-engine. In the same manner the 
round-bottomed canoe, made from a log hollowed out with 
fire, grew into a ship. Fulton combined these two growths 
and made the steamboat. For more than one hundred years 
before Watt was born, the tram-road had been in use in Eng 
land for conveying coal from the colliery to the place of 
shipment. Parallel rails, at first of wood, then of iron, were 
laid, to which wagons with grooved wheels were fitted and 
drawn by horses. Stephenson took the steam-engine of 
Watt, added the steam blast, mounted it on driving wheels, 
and made the locomotive ; put it on the tram-road, and gave 
the world the railway. 

Hargrave s spinning-jenny, Arkright s spinning frame, 
and Cartright s power-loom, which were but the develop 
ment of the distaff, the spinning-wheel, and of the hand- 
loom, in which Joseph s many-colored coat was woven, 
were contemporary with the invention of the condensing 
steam-engine by Watt about 1780 and the method of 
puddling and rolling iron immediately followed. The 
steam-engine revolutionized industry as gunpowder had 
war furnishing a power stupendous in its strength, mar 
velous in "the ease, precision, and ductility with which it 
can be varied and applied, so that it can engrave a seal, or 
crush masses of obdurate metal ; draw out without break 
ing a thread fine as a gossamer, and lift a ship of war like a 
bauble in the air ; embroider muslin, and forge anchors ; 
cut steel into ribbons, and impel loaded vessels against the 
fury of the winds and waves ;" it not only supplemented 
all mechanical arts, but it so stimulated the inventive facul 
ties, that since then men have expressed their best thoughts 
in wood and iron. Surrounded here by these thoughts 
embodied in the visible forms of industry and art, we are 
in the presence of a poem, the epic of progress, in which 
the voices of all the ages blend, grander in its suggestions, 


more inspiring in its hopes, and sublimer in its theme, than 
Homer, or Dante, or Milton sang. 

But let n s not suppose that the germs of art have reached 
their full fruition in our age, nor that the future will pla 
giarize the present or repeat the past. A galvanic toy, the 
plaything of to-day, may one day supersede the steam- 
engine. Steam, that is usually cited as the highest instance 
of the (Jominion of mind over matter, is expensive in the 
machinery and fuel it requires, dangerous and destructive 
in its explosive properties. Nature s grand forces are 
silent and safe. The rays of the sun exercise on earthly 
objects every day a meclianical power "in comparison with 
which the erection of the Egyptian pyramids dwindles into 
the labor of mites." The force that binds the earth to 
gether, particle to particle, is mightier than the earthquake 
that comes in visitation of terror. Who can touch the 
chain by which the sun holds the planets in their orbits ? 
Hear what Professor Tyndale, the highest scientific author 
ity, says, after a mathematical calculation of one of the 
molecular forces that are lavished around us: "I have 
seen the wild stone avalanches of the Alps, which smoke 
and thunder down the declivities with a vehemence almost 
sufficient to stun the observer. I have also seen snow- 
flakes descending so quickly as not to hurt the fragile 
spangles of which they are composed ; yet, to produce from 
aqueous vapor a quantity of that tender material which a 
child could carry, demands an exertion of energy competent 
to gather up the shattered blocks of the largest stone 
avalanche I have ever seen, and pitch them to twice the 
height from which they fell." Shall not these forces in 
which nature is so prodigal be utilized in the art and 
service of man ? 

There are dominions of thought in which the mind has 
reached the limits of its capacity, but not in the sphere of 
mechanical invention. If we could be permitted to enter 
an art exhibition at Athens in the days of Pericles, while 
wandering through the department of machinery, agricul 
tural implements, mechanical tools and power, we might 
exclaim against the poverty of the Greek mind, and the 


"barrenness of Grecian life. But when the statues of 
Phidias were unveiled when those marbles "whose head 
less, armless trunks, in their severe and awful beauty, are 
at once the delight, admiration, and despair of modern 
artists," stood revealed in the full glory of their original 
perfection, we would admit that there, at least, the world 
had made no progress, for none was possible. 

Or if a pupil of the divine Plato could revisit the 
earth, he might hear at the High School in San Francisco, 
boys and girls reciting like a hackneyed tale, truths in 
science his master would have died to know ; but when he 
would mingle with the sages of the earth, he would find 
that in philosophy the thoughts of his great teacher were 
the boundaries of human speculation, that the highest office 
of philosophy now was but to interpret thoughts uttered 
2,500 years ago. He could wander around the earth and 
hear no language spoken superior to the Greek in purer 
compass and flexibility ; and he would learn that in poverty, 
eloquence and history, Grecian mind had furnished the 
models for all succeeding ages, in eloquence, poetry and 
philosophy, in sculpture, painting, and possibly in the 
forms of architecture, in language as a medium for the 
expression of thought, and possibly in music, the language 
of the emotions, there will be no higher attainment than 
has already been reached. No race will ever arise su 
perior to the Greek in intellectual and physical organiza 
tion ; and no men born of women will ever thrust Homer 
and Shakespeare, Phidias and Raphael, Demosthenes and 
Mozart from their thrones of pre-eminence. 

There are also two devices, or inventions, which are, 
humanly speaking, perfect. One is that of Arabic numerals 
and the method of decimation, by which the ten simple 
figures the school-boy scrawls upon his slate can be made 
to express every thing the mind can conceive in numbers, 
reaching upward toward the infinite, and downward 
toward the infinitesimal. The other is the invention of the 
alphabet, of letters, by which twenty-six characters have 
become the factors of all human intelligence, bearing from 
generation to generation the thoughts and wisdom and 


learning of men ; have become the world s memory, per 
mitting nothing to perish that is worthy to survive ; an 
invention so difficult to conceive, so simple in use, so grand 
and complete, that the world had better lose all other arts 
combined than to forget its A B C s. Sometimes I have 
thought of them as of twenty- six soldiers that set out to 
conquer the world. That A was an archer, and B was a 
bugler, and C was a corporal, and D was a drummer, and 
E was an ensign, and F was a fifer, and Gr was a gunner, 
down to Z, who was a zouave, and these twenty- six drill- 
sergeants have subdued the kingdoms of the earth and of 
the air, taken possession of the realms of thought, and 
founded a republic of which the wise and noble of all time 
are citizens and contemporaries, where there is neither 
death nor forgetfulness the imperial republic of letters. 
Again I have thought of them as of a telegraphic cable laid 
beneath the waters of time, safe from disturbing storm and 
tempest so short, the child s primer will contain it, so long 
it connects the remotest ages with the present, and will 
stretch to the last syllable of recorded time. We pride our 
selves on the successful laying of the Atlantic cable as the 
crowning achievement of human invention ; but here is a 
cable that speaks not in broken, doubtful, and sibylline 
utterance, but charged with the whole spiritual power of 
all human intelligence, with a circuit reaching through all 
time, connecting all brains and all hearts in its network, 
and certain to carry every message worthy to go there to 
the last man who shall live upon earth. 

Here is an invention so simple that the child learns its 
use while playing with his blocks ; so grand that all gen 
erations can not exhaust its capabilities ; so perfect, no age 
will be able to add to or take from. In the invention of 
letters, man arose nearest to creative power. In other 
inventions he has dealt with material substance, with tangi 
ble things ; in letters he created from nothing forms into 
which he himself could breathe the spirit of life, the immor 
tal soul of power and eloquence and beauty. 

In letters, the mind has reached the highest heaven of 
invention ; in literature and the fine arts it has touched the 


boundaries of its power, and knows where the horizon 
meets the earth ; "but in science and the mechanical arts 
there will be no limit to improvement while nature has one 
secret unrevealed, one force unappropriated. In those 
grand domains there i is ample scope and verge enough 
for the thought, investigation, and skill of all generations 
to come, and the work of each generation will be but the 
scaffolding on which the next shall stand, building ever 
toward a sky that recedes as it is approached. 


Now twilight sits upon the hill 

And lengthened shades the valley fill ; 

The wild bird s song is hushed, and still 

Is dreaming nature, Rosalie ; 
While here within this spot, o ergro\7n 
With leaves and flowers, I sit alone, 
To muse on thee and hours flown, 

Love-winged and joyous, Rosalie. 

To muse upon those happy times, 
When first I won thee with my rhymes; 
When sweet as music s vesper chimes, 

Our hearts accorded, Rosalie ; 
When life flow d ever like the stream 
Of some brain-pictured lovely dream, 
Where airy shapes and fancies gleam 

Upon its bright waves, Rosalie. 

Afar in memory s misty light 

As stars steal through the gloom of light 

The twinklings of a vision bright 

Come gently o er me, Rosalie ; 
A vine-clad cot beneath the hill 
The gladsome wanderings of a rill 
A form which love s bright beamings fill- 
Are all before me, Rosalie. 


Once more we walk this wildwood shade, 
Where oft in " love s young dream " we stray d, 
Again upon the flowery glade 

We pick bright blossoms, Rosalie ; 
Once more I hear the wild bird s song 
That charmed us all the summer long, 
And with it comes a glorious throng 

Of bright-winged visions, Rosalie. 

And as the stars come out to-night, 
All trembling on their lonely height, 
Methinks amid their dewy light 

Thine eyes shine on me, Rosalie ; 
Those soft, those gently speaking eyes, 
Where hopes and pleasant memories, 
Like silver waves, alternate rise 

Upon a bright sea, Rosalie. 

Thy face to me was as a tide, 
Where barks, love-laden, ever glide, 
With Hope, their pilot and their guide, 

And I their haven, Rosalie ; 
But ah ! a cloud on swift wings passed, 
And all the sky was overcast, 
And then were wrecked, alas ! too fast, 

My freighted treasures, Rosalie. 

I can not twine my fingers now 
In thy soft hair, nor kiss thy brow, 
Nor hear thy gentle accents flow 

In murmured music, Rosalie ; 
I can not feel thy breatli so warm 
Upon my cheek, nor press thy form, 
Which, like a flow ret in a storm, 

Slept on my bosom, Rosalie. 

And though each wild bird sings of thee, 
And in each summer flower I see 
Thy own eyes, bright exceedingly^ 

Look up and greet me, Rosalie ; 



I start and sigh to think that thou 
Art but, to me, a memory now 
A star that gemmed life s morning brow, 
Then fled and left me, Rosalie. 

A tall oak stricken in its pride 
The fierce red bolt has rent its side 
Scatters its seared leaves far and wide 

Upon the cold heath, Rosalie ; 
So too my heart is sorely riven 
By a stern fate, gainst which I ve striven, 
Till my poor thoughts like leaves are driven 

Upon the rude world, Rosalie. 

And I have sought to find, in vain, 
This vision of my youth again ; 
And I have dreamed until my brain 

Was wild with dreaming, Rosalie ; 
But, oh ! to sit and muse alone, 
Within this spot with flowers o ergrown, 
Is all that s left me now, my own, 

My lost, my lovely Rosalie. 

Col. I>. F. Washington. 



POWELL illustrated by various beauti 
ful and impressive similes the passage of time 
and its inexorable influence on the face of the 
globe. Water was the great leveler, crumbling 
down the hills and mountains, making vast sub 
terranean chambers. He described the slow formation of 
the Mammoth Cave in Kentucky, to give an idea of time. 
All lands had been baptized had risen from under the 
water. Many Mammoth Cave periods ago the crust of the 
earth was thin and plastic. Earthquakes kept upheaving 
parts of the earth s crust, but it was too weak to sustain 
them, and so they sank and were upraised again until the 


strata were bent and twisted up as we see them on the 
mountains. Nature used earthquakes to knead the earth s 
crust to a consistency that would sustain continents. He 
described the period when the Colorado mountains, newly- 
upheaved, were laved by a shallow torrid sea, on whose 
shores grew tropical plants and wandered strange animals 
now extinct. Forests grew upon the remains of forests, in 
almost interminable succession. Then they would sink to 
be covered with sand. This process was gone through with 
again and again. Hence beds of coal, alternately with 
strata of sandstone. A bed of coal was one of Dame Na 
ture s pots of pickled sunbeams. On the west side of the 
range the sea was filling up as on this with scaly shales, 
slates, coal, limestone, &c. He would describe one of the 
animals of that period. Its substance was jelly quartz, and 
myriads and generations of them were connected together. 
The shells of these animals crystallize into the agates found 
in the Middle Park. He had seen a stratum of these agates 
with six feet of magnesian clay over it, then agates, then 
clay, for two hundred feet in thickness. 

At length the earth s crust was kneaded to a sufficient 
solidity to bear up the mountains, and the great Rocky 
Mountains were laid up to dry. As they dried and shrank, 
fissures were made. These became minerals in due time. 
Their east and west course had relation to the magnetic cur 
rents. Scientific men agreed that these currents were caused 
by the falling of the sunbeams in waves on the earth the 
same old story of sunbeams condensed into coal. It was 
popularly supposed that far down toward the center of the 
earth was an ocean of molten metal which had been pro 
jected outward through fissures in the earth s crust. But 
the idea was rejected by the learned. Every thing was in 
motion by molecules, and all that is necessary in order to 
segregate the minerals from the rocks is to direct these 
molecular motions. The elevations of the mountains were 
attended by igneous phenomena. Rivers of molten rock were 
belched forth and poured down into the parks and on the 
plains. In the Middle Park a basin had been formed fifty 
by sixty miles in extent. One great fissure of this kind had 


filled that basin five hundred feet deep with hot lava. Tt 
was poured into the basin while it was filled with water. 
Then were born the storms ; the rain fell incessantly. An 
other of these lava streams was poured out at Valmont, and 
one at Golden City. He had fished for trout in Middle Park, 
at the base of a monument of the tertiary ages that lifted its 
head 2,000 feet into the air. 

The waters falling on the elevated platform for vast pe 
riods had worn out the valleys, sculptured the mountain- 
peaks, and cut channels for themselves to the sea. The 
plains were thus finished off by the debris of the mountains. 
The mountains again were crumbled down by frost, the iron 
cubes of the lodes decomposed, some of the gold settling 
into the lodes, making their backs very rich, some of it 
being carried down in low places, constituting the placer 
diggings. The clouds were the artists that shaped the con 
tour of the earth. The length of time, amount of motion, 
and vast work of the waters, had impressed him most in 
thirteen years study of nature. When the mountains were 
uplifted, the rock strata were pent up at the edges, the soft 
ones were then washed out by the water, leaving the harder 
strata standing. Hence the parallel ridges of red sandstone 
at the base of the mountains, hundreds of feet high, called 
"hog s- back." This sandstone formation was 9,700 feet 
thick, which measured the distance this grand plateau in the 
middle Colorado was lifted up. 

As we enter the South Park at Montgomery, we seem to 
be walled in by towering mountains. We are in Lincoln 
Park, containing one hundred and fifty acres, at the base of 
Mount Lincoln. Lakes fed from eternal snow-banks bound 
their waters over rocks from two hundred to nine hundred 
feet high. There were one hundred and twenty-three cas 
cades pouring into this little park. Sitting there with a 
friend a short time ago, he had witnessed the sudden gath 
ering of a storm. The immense dense cloud seemed to give 
a black light, a shadow we were in the land of shades. 
His friend remarked, The valley of the shadow of death. 
They sought shelter under the rocks, and watched the 
breaking of the storm. Then came the rainbow, making 


iridescent the rocks against which it was flung. "My 
friends," said the lecturer, "I can but exclaim, O God ! 
Creator of all, how wonderful are Thy works!" Colorado 
Register, April, 1868. 


iHE Old PaJi-Utali, Lovejoy s paper, published 
at Washoe City, Nevada, paints the following 
flattering but truthful picture of this State : 

How she sits like a queen beside the beautiful, 
sunset sea ! How grand her place, how glorious 
her destiny ; ribbed round by solemn, guardian 
mountains, the pines are her everlasting sentinels ; strange, 
beautiful flowers, interwoven, make her diadem ; her scep 
ter is virgin gold, her canopy a cloudless sky. An empire, 
complete in herself! Were she, in a moment, rent from the 
continent, and made an island of the sea, still every needful 
thing to make a nation great would be found, either de 
veloped, or a living germ in her sustaining breast. How 
proud she sits, her Golden Gate swung backward for the 
world s great ships to enter ; her mighty land-locked bay, 
at rest, an anchorage where the whole world s ships might 
ride. That bay, beautiful at first, and now with glory a 
thousand times enhanced by that city that came, at the 
touch of Midas, and unfolded its glittering splendor on the 
still bay s sandy shore. Beyond these, stretching away, 
mile after mile, in incomprehensible vastness, sleep her fer 
tile plains, waiting for the coming millions who are to 
people them. And last of all, her moveless bulwark of 
adamant and gold. Her people too, how loyal, how brave 
and true, how appropriate for such a home, how worthy, 
as a whole, to be fathers and mothers of that people who 
are to see the Queen of the Pacific in the full fruition of her 
glory. Leal and true Californians ! no stain is on your loy 
alty, and when the cries of dying men come flashing to your 
ears, your golden ingots are flung down as though they were 


but water. Fair land ! in thought it seems as though tliou 
wert the last created, and that in thee was centered, by 
Omnipotence, the excellencies of every other clime. Dec. 


UGH has been written by many able writers 
descriptive of the varied scenery of California ; 
but, to get a correct idea, its mountains should 
be visited at different seasons of the year. The 
traveler who visits the highlands of California 
in early spring, or during the summer months, can not fail 
of being deeply impressed with the imposing grandeur of 
its scenery its foaming cataracts, hedged with rough walls 
of granite ; its towering mountains, capped with everlasting 
snow, while their sides are covered with a dense forest of 
the noblest trees ; its broad valleys and sequestered glens, 
dressed in all the foliaceous beauty of spring, luxuriant 
with thrifty and well cultivated vegetation ; while from the 
dark recesses of the mountains meandering streamlets come 
gushing forth, gliding merrily along until lost in distance, 
or sinking in some deep chasm, to burst forth again with 
renewed vigor in some dark forest, where quiet has dwelt 
for ages undisturbed except by murmuring waters and the 
sigh of the gentle mountain zephyr whose breath sways the 
lofty pine. Or, as the visitor stands on the shore of one of 
the many romantic lakes that lie sleeping in seclusion, 
"environed by mountains studded with lofty trees," its 
banks lined with dense underwood hung with rich foliage, 
and nestling in its clustering vines a charm that no man can 
withstand ; and as the fragrance of many flowers is wafted 
over the silent waters of the lake, and you breathe the 
grateful odor, it can not fail to awake in the soul of every 
man (who allows his thoughts to range outside the citadel 
of selfishness or believes in a Creator), a lively spirit of 
admiration, and bring into action that unaccountable 


emotion that environs the heart of every lover of nature 
and dwells in the soul of every true man. The man who is 
familiar with, and speaks disparagingly of, the scenery of 
California, may be justly looked on with distrust, as one 
who would not fail to do wrong where an opportunity 

But when the icy hand of winter spreads her mantle of 
snow over mountain and valley, covering the smooth waters 
of the lakes with a crust of glittering ice, the traveler bids 
adieu to the mountains and seeks a more genial climate. 
Has the country, that a few weeks since was clothed in the 
rich foliage of summer, lost its charm ? We think not, but 
believe that there still remains something ^equally as inter 
esting. Look at the extensive range of lofty mountains, at 
whose base the crisped brook still resounds : listen to the 
cataract 1 s thunders, as it leaps from the crown of some high 
precipice, dashing through some deep gorge, heralding its 
course by the echoing mountains, until it makes its debouch 
upon broad and fertile plains, where it soon becomes mighty 
in its power, and sports as toys on its bosom the most 
powerful mechanism of man. Look again : upon the moun 
tains, as they reflect the oblique rays of the morning sun 
on the frost-covered pines, that stretch along their sides, or 
stand in groups at their base, making them resemble richly 
tesselated monuments capped with crowns of silver, and 
hung with the most gaudy tinsel. Is there not a charm in 
this ? If it is not as pleasant as the more verdant scenes of 
spring and summer, it is as instructive. Does it not teach 
us a lesson of life, opening wide the text-book of nature, 
wherein we may study the four stages of manhood : the 
spring-time of youth, the summer of manhood, the fall of 
age, the winter of death? Downiemlle Sierra Citizen, 
Aug., 1860. 




AN earthquake wave which followed the recent eruption 
in the Sandwich Islands, was transmitted to this coast and 
recorded on the Government self-registering tide-gauges 
at San Diego, San Francisco, and Astoria, in about live 
hours. On the 23d of December, 1854, a similar wave was 
transmitted from the coast of Japan to the Golden Gate 
in twelve hours and thirty-eight minutes. It will be recol 
lected that this earthquake wave caused the wreck of the 
Russian frigate Diana, in the port of Simoda, and great 
loss of life. 

These facts, which are derived from the best authority, 
convey a very impressive idea of the tremendous power re 
quired to disturb the whole body of an ocean, for a distance 
of from 3,000 to 5,000 miles, by a movement distinct from 
its ordinary tidal swing. It will be seen that the revulsion 
of the great tidal wave at Hawaii reached this coast, distant 
over 2,000 miles, in five hours, and was observed along a 
stretch of shore over thirteen geographical degrees in length. 
S. F. Bulletin, June 13, 1868. 


REMARKABLE series of earthquake shocks 
was experienced in the interior of this State 
and Nevada, about nine o clock on the even 
ing of May 30, 1868, of which no trace was 
felt at San Francisco, or north and south of a 
line from Sacramento to Fort Churchill. Although no dam 
age is recorded, the jolts were sharp enough to rack the 
buildings in Virginia, and frighten people out of doors. 
The occurrence of such shocks in unusual places, is one of 


the most puzzling facts to those who theorize upon the 
causes of volcanic disturbances, and is apparently inconsis 
tent with the idea that these causes are decreasing in the 
force and frequency of their operation. If such disturb 
ances were confined to the localities and neighborhood of 
active volcanoes, the phenomena would be more intelligible ; 
but their shifting occurrence, with peculiar severity, in lo 
calities remote from any vent, as in the valley of the Missis 
sippi, and in the plateau of Nevada, complicates the study 
of causes, and inclines us to the opinion that sudden and 
tremendous outbursts are probable anywhere. Nevada, 
which has seldom felt the shocks experienced in San Fran 
cisco, was evidently at a comparatively recent period, the 
seat of a very lively arid extensive display of volcanic en 
ergy. The old craters, the surface distribution of pumice 
and ashes, the hot springs, are sufficient proof on this score ; 
but there are no such evidences in the lower Mississippi Val 
ley, where remarkable disturbances have been noted on 
several occasions since the region became known to white 
men. But much more remarkable disturbances, independ 
ent of active volcanoes, have been recorded. Mention was 
made in our last issue of the sudden elevation of a volcanic 
mountain, 1,600 feet high, in Central America, in 1770. 
Humboldt describes in his voyages a more wonderful erup 
tion yet, which took place in Mexico about fifty years 
before his visit to that country or, say about 1759. The 
locality of this eruption was the Intendancy of Valladolid. 
The country was a fertile plain, nowhere more than 2,600 
feet above the sea, over one hundred miles from the coast, 
and about one hundred and twenty-six miles from any active 
volcano. Till the middle of the eighteenth century, fields 
of sugar-cane, indigo, and cotton, and fine gardens, sup 
porting several villages, covered this plain. Suddenly one 
day subterranean noises were heard, accompanied by nu 
merous dreadful earthquakes, lasting through fifty or sixty 
days. After an interval of a few days, the sounds and 
shocks recommenced, a tract of ground from three to four 
square miles rose up in the shape of a bladder, and the con 
vexity steadily increased in height to five hundred and twenty 


feet, when flames issued from an area of half a square league, 
fragments of broken rocks were thrown up to great heights 
through a thick cloud of ashes illuminated by fire, and the 
softened surface of the earth swelled like an agitated sea. 
Two rivers poured into the burning chasms, invigorating 
the fire by the decomposition of their waters. Thousands 
of small volcanic cones rose over the plain, and in the midst 
six large ones arose, from 1,300 to 1,700 feet above the level 
of the surrounding land. The most elevated of these cones 
was the great volcano of Jorullo, which belched forth fire, 
smoke, rocks, and lava, furiously for about nine months, 
after which its eruptions gradually ceased. The plain was, 
of course, desolated, and the people abandoned it in terror. 
Such paroxysmal outbreaks as this are naturally recalled to 
memory by local shocks like those in Nevada, and confirm 
the impression that the occasional tremblars of San Fran 
cisco are not to be regarded as especially threatening. S. 
F. Bulletin, May 30, 1868. 


OW, when we bear in mind that a mere scratch 
on the surface of our globe, which is nearly 
8,000 miles in diameter (for so the depth of only 
one mile must be considered), brings us to a tem 
perature of 105 degrees, we have only to descend 
in imagination to the still comparatively slight depth of 
twenty miles to find the earth s crust red-hot, while, if the 
temperature continues to increase regularly according to the 
same law, we should come at no very great depth beyond 
on a liquid sea of fire. But it is probable that this molten 
mass is a greater distance from us than this theory would 
place it. Astronomical calculations tend to prove that the 
crust of the earth is at least eight hundred miles thick, and 
that the coating of our globe must be extremely solid and 
rigid to enable our planet to preserve its figure. But the 
farther we remove the seat of the subterranean force from 


us, the more must we be struck by its great power. Earth 
quakes are indeed terrific evidence of mysterious dynamic 
laws ; but it is only when the subterranean expansive force 
breaks through the earth s crust, and after violent earth- 
throes a volcano becomes active, that we obtain a just idea 
of the forces at work in nature s secret laboratory. A 
grand example of the tremendous action of this force may be 
seen in the Monte Nuevo of the Phlegrsean fields, which 
was formed in September, 1558, on the site of the Lucrine 
Lake, once famous for its oysters. The eruption continued 
without intermission two days and two nights, and on the 
third day people climbed to the top of the new hill, four 
hundred and forty feet high, and looked into the crater, four 
hundred and twenty-one feet deep, within which stones were 
boiling up. The mountain has remained quiescent ever 
since that period. On the other hand, the volcano of Izalco, 
in Central America, rose suddenly to the height of 1,600 feet 
on February 23, 1770, and has remained since in such con 
stant activity as to serve as a beacon to mariners. The vol 
cano of Tomboro, in Sumbawa, is another amazing evidence 
of subterranean force. In 1815, it yielded ashes and scoriae 
sufficient to form three mountains, each equal in cubic con 
tents to Mount Blanc, or to cover the whole of Germany 
with scoriae two feet deep. But even more tremendous is 
the volcano of Mauna Loa, a huge dome-shaped mountain 
in Hawaii, nearly 14,000 feet above the sea, formed chiefly 
by the repeated outflows of a highly liquid lava boiling up 
and cascading over the lips of a central vent at its summit. 
The phenomena of this volcano are on the most stupendous 
scale. The highest crater, which is circular, 8,000 feet in 
diameter, and 830 feet deep, is frequently filled by the well 
ing up of the lava from the vents at its bottom. During one 
of the latest eruptions, the lava stream extended sixty-five 
miles, and averaged four miles in width, and twelve feet in 
depth. Its discharge was accompanied by columns of fire, 
scorise of filamentous lava (called Pele s hair), and dense 
vapor, which towered over the crater to the height of eight 
hundred feet for twenty days, darkening the sun, and ob 
scuring every object a few yards distant ; while from the 


surface of the lava currents clouds of steam rolled upward. 
On this occasion it is calculated that within ten months, 
15,400,000,000 cubic feet of molten matter were blown out 
of the crater, and that the lava overflowed an area of 
200,000 acres in the same period of time. Frazef s Maga 


S" many a tombstone where it is written, "Here 
lies so-and-so, aged seventy years," the true 
inscription would read, " In memory of a soul 
who in seventy years lived about five minutes, 
and that was when he first found himself in 
love." A dandy lives not by the clock or almanac, but 
from one neck-tie to another. A fashionable woman lives 
from one wrinkle to another. The politician from one Pres 
idential election to another. The epicure from turtle to 
turtle. The philosopher from the perception of one prin 
ciple to the dawning of another. The philanthropist from 
one act of charity to another. 

Think of the crowning hours of men s lives, if you would 
learn how much living can be crowded into a minute ; of 
Copernicus, when he first saw the sun stop in its career, 
and the earth, like a moth, begin to flutter round it ; of 
Newton, when the law of gravity was first breaking into 
the inclosure of his philosophy, and at the same glance he 
saw his own name written forever on the starry sky ; of L<3 
Yerrier, when from Berlin word came back that a new 
planet had been evoked, by the sorcery of his mathematics, 
to spin a wider thread of reflected light than had ever before 
been traced ; of Washington, when the English general s 
sword was surrendered to him at Yorktown ; of Columbus, 
when on his deck, " before the upright man there arose a 
light" when San Salvador lifted its candle to his sight, 
and shot its ray across on Castile ; and for the jeers of a 
continent, the mutiny of his men, he was repaid as he saw 
that the round idea that haunted him was demonstrated. 


To pictures like these we must turn to understand the 
untranslatable bliss of which a moment is capable to 
learn what fast living really is. Rev. T. Starr King. 


CCORDINGr to the estimates given in the 
Evening Post three weeks ago, the whole 
amount of gold in the world at the present 
moment is about 5,950,000,000 dollars in 
value. It may be of interest to see what the 
bulk of this amount of gold would be* if it was all melted 
and run together. Pure gold is more than nineteen times 
as heavy as water, and a cubic foot of water weighs 1,000 
ounces avoirdupois. A cubic foot of gold, then, would 
weight over 19,000 ounces avoirdupois; and every such 
ounce of fine gold is worth, according to our coinage, some 
what more than eighteen dollars. So then the whole cubic 
foot of gold would be worth a little more than a third of a 
million dollars. A cubic yard of solid gold would be worth 
twenty-seven times as much as that, or over nine million dol 
lars ; and six hundred and sixty cubic yards would contain 
somewhat more than the 5,950,000,000 dollars gold in the 
world. These six hundred and sixty cubic yards would 
be contained within a room five yards high, eight yards 
wide, and six yards long ; say a good sized parlor or a store 
of moderate size. "But," says some one, "gold is so very 
malleable that even this small bulk of it would gild over the 
whole earth." But he either over-estimates the mallea 
bility of gold, or, more likely, under-estimates the size of 
the earth. It takes 1,280,000 leaves of the thinnest gold 
foil to make an inch in thickness, or about fifteen millions 
and a third to make a foot, or about 46,000 to a yard. A 
cubic yard of gold, therefore, could be beaten out so as to 
cover 46,000,000 square yards, somewhat less than 10,000 
acres, for there are 4, 480 square yards to the acre. Then, as 
there are six hundred and forty acres to the square mile, 


the whole six hundred and sixty cubic yards of gold could 
"be beaten out so as to cover about 10,000 square miles 
that is, a tract only one hundred miles square, less than the 
extent of Vermont, and a little more than a fifth of either 
New York or Pennsylvania. GOT. N. Y. ^Evening Post. 


[THE Lost Soul, Alma per dida, is the term applied by the 
Indians to a bird whose melancholy cry is heard at night on 
the margins of the Amazon. ] 

Lsr that black forest, where, when day is done, 
With a snake s stillness glides the Amazon 
Darkly from sunset to the rising sun, 

A cry, as of the pained heart of the wood, 
The long, despairing moan of solitude 
And darkness and the absence of all good, 

Startles the traveler, with a sound so drear, 

So full of hopeless agony and fear, 

His heart stands still and listens like his ear. 

The guide, as if he heard a dead-bell toll, 
Starts, drops his oar against the gunwale s thole, 
Crosses himself, and whispers, "A lost soul !" 

" No, Senor, not a bird. I know it well, 
It is the pained soul of some infidel 
Or cursed heretic that cries from hell. 

" Poor fool ! with hope still mocking his despair, 
He wanders, shrieking on the midnight air 
For human pity and for Christian prayer. 

" Saints strike him dumb ! Our holy Mother hath 
No prayer for him who, sinning unto death, 
Burns always in the furnace of God s wrath !" 


Thus to the baptized pagan s cruel lie, 
Lending new horror to that mournful cry, 
The voyager listens, making no reply. 

Dim burns the boat-lamp : shadows deepen round, 
From giant trees with snake-like creepers wound, 
And the black water glides without a sound. 

But in the traveler s heart a secret sense 
Of nature plastic to benign intents, 
And an eternal good in Providence, 

Lifts to the starry calm of heaven his eyes ; 
And lo ! rebuking all earth s ominous cries, 
The Cross of pardon lights the tropic skies ! 

" Father of all !" he urges his strong plea, 
" Thou lovest all : thy erring child may be 
Lost to himself, but never lost to Thee ! 

" All souls are Thine ; the wings of morning bear 
None from that Presence which is everywhere, 
Nor hell itself can hide, for Thou art there. 

" Through sins of sense, perversities of will, 

Through doubt and pain, through guilt and shame and ill, 

Thy pitying eye is on Thy creature still. 

" Wilt thou not make, Eternal Source and Goal ! 
In Thy long years, life s broken circle whole, 
And change to praise the cry of a lost soul ?" 



iHE Caribs were the boldest of the West Indian 
tribes, and their name has remained almost a 
synonym for cruelty and daring. Europeans 
found them the terror of the milder tribes, for, 
at home on the sea in the midst of storms, they 
swept from island to island, everywhere as con 
querors, or as lords, meeting man as they met the elements, 


The Spaniard with his mimic thunder, his death-dealing 
fire-arms, sent no terror through their breasts ; but discern 
ing in them a more potent foe, they resorted to greater skill 
and precautions in war. Scout boats, light structures, built 
like the birch canoes of our river and lake tribes, but 
firmer and better adapted for the sea, were sent out to 
explore and give notice of hostile movements. 

The Caribs have now almost entirely passed away, but a 
few still linger in Trinidad, Dominica, and St. Vincent, 
as well as on the shores of South America. Chimney 


THE "magnet" has its name from Magnesia. The 
"bayonet", tells us that it was first made at Bayonne ; 
"worsted," that it was first spun at a village of the same 
name in the vicinity of Norwich; "cambrics," that they 
reached us from Cambrao ; "damask," from Damascus ; 
the "damson," also the " Damascene," or Damascus plum ; 
"dimity," from Damietta ; "cord wain," or "cordovan," 
from Cordova; "currants," Corinth ; " indigo" (indicum), 
from India; "agates," from a Sicilian river, Achates; 
"jalap," from Jalapa, a town in Mexico; "parchment," 
from Pergamum ; the "guinea," that it was originally coined 
(in the year 1663) of gold brought from the African coast 
so-called; "camlet," that it was woven in part of camel s 
hair. The fashion of the cravat was borrowed from the 
Croats, or " Crobats," as they used, in the sixteenth cen 
tury, to be called. Such has been the manufacturing pro 
cess of England, that English calicoes and muslins are now 
sent to India and the East ; yet the words give standing 
witness that England once imported them thence, for 
"calico" is from Calicut, and "muslin" from Moussul, a 
city in Asiatic Turkey. 




y E had lost all track of late years, of the man 
who recovered after having had a crowbar shot 
through his brain, by the premature explosion of 
a blast which he was tamping in Vermont, some 
twenty years ago. But the following account 
of proceedings in the Massachusetts Medical So 
ciety last Wednesday, not only revives this wonderful case, 
but presents many hitherto unpublished facts in it. It is 
highly interesting. Probably no such case ever occurred 
before in the history of the world. We published accounts 
of it many years ago ; but nothing so full, precise, interest 
ing and authentic, has ever been given to the public, con 
cerning this case, as the following. That crowbar, that has 
penetrated the inner recesses of "thought s mysterious 
seat," without destroying life, was exhibited, together with 
the skull through which it passed : 



At the meeting of the Massachusetts Medical Society on 
Wednesday, Dr. John M. Harlow, physician and surgeon, 
of Woburn, but formerly of Cavendish, Vermont, read a 
paper containing the history of a most interesting case of 
injury to the head, and presented to the meeting the verita 
ble skull which sustained the injury. 

This case occurred some twenty years ago, in Cavendish, 
Vermont, and was described at length in the Traveler a 
few days later. On the 13th of September, 1848, Phineas 
P. Gage, foreman of a gang of men engaged in blasting a 
deep cut in the continuation of the Rutland and Burlington 
road, had a tamping iron blown through his brains, and re 
covered within sixty days, living twelve years after. The 
case caused great discussion when reported by Dr. Harlow 
in the medical journals at that time, and it was largely dis 
believed, many eminent surgeons declaring the occurrence 


as described, to be a physiological impossibility. Dr. Har- 
low, in presenting the paper to-day, justly said, that it is 
due to science that a case so grave, and succeeded by such 
remarkable results, should not be lost sight of, and that its 
subsequent story should have a permanent record. 

The tamping-iron was three and half feet in length, one 
and a quarter inch thick, and pointed at one end, the 
taper being seven inches long, and the diameter of the point 
a quarter of an inch. It weighed thirteen pounds. The 
point was upward, and the iron smooth. 

Gage was a perfectly healthy, strong and active young 
man, twenty-five years of age, of nervous temperament, 
five and a half feet in height, average weight one hundred 
and fifty pounds, possessing an iron will as well as an iron 
frame, muscular system remarkably well developed, having 
had scarcely a day s illness from childhood up. 

As described in the paper read, it appears that a drill 
hole had been charged with powder, and he was about 
tamping it in (or, more popularly, ramming it down), when 
his attention was called for a moment. Looking over his 
shoulder at his men, he at the same moment rammed down 
the iron, supposing his assistant had poured sand on the 
powder, as is the custom. The iron struck fire from the 
rock, the charge exploded, and the iron was driven up into 
his cheek and out of the top of his head, high in the air, 
and was afterward found several rods distant, smeared 
with blood and brains. 

The missile entered, by its pointed end, the left side of 
the face, immediately anterior to the angle of the lower jaw, 
and passing obliquely upward and slightly backward, 
emerged out of the top of the head in the median line, at 
the back part of the frontal bone, near the coronal suture. 
The ordinary reader will understand it better, if we say 
that, pointing upward, it entered the cheek outside the 
teeth, and under the cheek bone, went inside an inch be 
hind the eye, and out of the top of the head in the center, 
two inches back of the line where the forehead and hair 

The patient was thrown on Ids back, and gave a few con- 


vulsive motions of the extremities, but spoke in a few 
minutes. He was taken three-quarters of a mile in a sitting 
position in a cart, got out of the cart himself with the aid 
of his men, and an hour afterward, with the assistance of 
Dr. Harlow holding his arm, walked up a flight of stairs 
to his room. He was conscious, but exhausted from loss 
of blood, which found its way from the mouth into the 
stomach, and was ejected as often as every fifteen or twenty 
minutes by vomiting. His bed and person were soon a gore 
of blood. 

One piece of the skull had been broken out in fragments ; 
another piece was raised and thrown back, like a door, the 
scalp serving as a hinge ; and on the opposite of the wound 
there was another fracture and an elevation. The globe of 
the left eye was partially protruded from its orbit, the left 
side of the face was more prominent than the right. The 
opening in the skull was two inches wide by three and a 
half long, and the brain was hanging in shreds on the hair. 
The pulsation of the brain could be distinctly seen, and the 
doctor passed his finger in its whole length, without the 
patient saying he felt pain. 

The paper gives an account of the treatment of the case. 
In fifty-nine days the patient was abroad. On the third 
day there was inflammation and some delirium, and during 
several weeks there was occasional delirium ; for tAVO weeks 
of the time the patient lay in a stupid condition, and his 
death was expected and his grave-clothes prepared. On 
the 25th of November he went in a close carriage, thirty 
miles, to his home in Lebanon. 

The subsequent history of the case is interesting. Gage 
came back to Cavendish in April in fair health and strength, 
having his tamping-iron with him, and he carried it with 
him till the day of his death, twelve years after. The effect 
of the injury appears to have been the destruction of the 
equilibrium between his intellectual faculties and the ani 
mal propensities. He was now capricious, fitful, irreverent, 
impatient of restraint, vacillating, a youth in intellectual 
capacity and manifestations, a man in physical system and 
passions. His physical recovery was complete, but those 


who once knew him as a shrewd, smart, energetic, persistent 
"business man, recognized the change in his mental character. 
The balance of his mind was gone. He used to give his 
nephews and nieces wonderful accounts of his hair-breadth 
escapes, without foundation in fact, and conceived a great 
fondness for pets. 

He went to various places, being engaged here and there ; 
was a year and a half in charge of horses at a livery stable ; 
was exhibited at Barnum s Museum in New York ; and, in 
August, 1852, four years after his injury, left New England 
forever, and went to Valparaiso with a man who was going 
to establish a line of coaches. Here he lived eight years, 
occasionally driving a six-horse coach, and enduring many 
hardships. In 1859 his health began to fail, and in 1860 he 
had a long illness, the nature of which can not now be 

He now left Chili, and Dr. Harlow lost all traces of him for 
some years, but finally found out that the mother and sister 
were in San Francisco, wrote to them, and ascertained that 
Gage arrived there in 1860 ; worked with a farmer at Santa 
Clara, and, in February, 1861, was taken with epileptic 
fits ; afterward he worked in several places ; and, finally, 
in May, 1861, had a succession of fits, which lasted a couple 
of days, and carried him off. There was no autopsy made. 
Dr. Harlow made overtures for the possession of the skull, 
on account of its scientific interest, and the world at large is 
under obligation to the relatives who were willing to sur 
render it for the uses of medical science. It appears that the 
man could see out of his left eye, though the lid was not 
fully subject to the will, and that he was troubled with 
uneasiness in the head. 

Dr. Harlow, in summing up his valuable but interesting 
paper, presented these views : 1st. The recovery is attrib 
uted solely to the vis vitse, vis conservatrix, or, if some 
like it, vis medicatrix naturae. [In plain words, he had a 
good constitution.] 2d. This case has been cited as one of 
recovery ; physically, the recovery was nearly or quite 
completed for the four years immediately succeeding the 
injury, but ultimately the patient succumbed to progressive 


disease of the brain. Mentally, the recovery was only 
partial ; there was no dementia ; intellectual operations 
were perfect in kind, but not in degree or quality. 
3d. Though the case may seem improbable, yet the subject 
was the man for the case, as his will, physique, and capacity 
for endurance could scarcely be equaled ; the missile was 
smooth and pointed, dilating and wedging off rather than 
lacerating the tissues ; the bolt did little injury till it en 
tered the base of the brain, and that opening served as a 
drain for the blood and matter, and other substances that 
might have caused death by compression ; the part of the 
brain traversed was the strongest for the purpose. 

Dr. Harlow had with him, and exhibited, the skull and 
the iron. 

The piece of skull, which was thrown backward like a 
door, and was afterward replaced, had grown to the oppo 
site edge by a new formation of bone plainly marked ; the 
holes were large and well defined, and the whole appear 
ance of the skull proved the truth of the account, which has 
also b een verified by letters from some of the first men in 
Cavendish, Vt. It appears that early in the history of the 
case, a number of fragments of bone came down into the 
mouth through the openings in the inside, and were voided. 

A great deal of interest was manifested in the examination 
of these important contributions to surgical science, and Dr. 
Harlow was abundantly complimented for the persistence 
with which he had followed up the case for nearly twenty 
years. Boston Traveler, June 4, 1868. 


[T has often been asserted by writers on this 
State and Mexico, that no traces exist within 
our boundaries of the ancient civilized Indian 
races who are assumed by some to have 
passed across the Gila from Central Alta Cali 
fornia, and founded in Mexico the Toltec and Mexican 


civilizations ; passing, in their several journeys, through 
Sonora, Sinaloa, Durango, &c., until the elevated tropical 
valleys of Mexico and Central America, as far even as the 
mountains of Chiriqui on the Panama Isthmus, are reached. 
Probably the civilizations of the Mississippi valleys formed 
one system of civilization ; those of Alta California, Chi 
huahua, and New Mexico formed another system ; those of 
Arituaba, near Altar, and in Sinaloa, another ; those of 
Mexico Valley, Michoacan, and Oaxaca, another ; those of 
Chiapas, Yucatan, Nicaragua, and Guatemala, another ; 
and those of Honduras, Costa Rica, and Chiriqui the last. 
The extent of this mighty, ancient Indian empire of the 
interior uplands of North America is truly wonderful, 
extending from the southern rim of the Great Basin to the 
Isthmus of Panama, and lying on both ocean coasts. This 
may veritably be termed the ruins of a great empire, and 
of a people wonderfully skilled in many arts, who have 
left no other traces behind them but vast buildings and 
deserted fields their very name and language have expired 
from the earth. The ruins of Oriental populations can bear 
no comparison to it in extent and marvel. 

There does exist, we affirm, some certain traces of this 
ancient empire within the boundaries of our State. A com 
munication appeared in the San Francisco Bulletin of July, 
1861, from near Owen s Lake, in 36 30 , giving a highly 
interesting account of a remnant of this race still living in 
that vicinity, and also of many traces of a more remote 
civilization all through the lately explored districts of the 
Coso mineral regions. A fact was also noted by its first 
explorer, Mr. Farley, in 1860, as to many hieroglyphics 
and ancient well-worn roads. We were informed lately 
by a friend that in the Valley of the Painted Rock, which 
is about four days journey east by south from the Tejon 
Pass, exist many curious paintings in blue, white, and red, 
with Indian figures, also Spanish ones of the time before 
1820. In the valley are now corrals for catching horses 
from the Tulare plains, erected by the Californians since 
1850, and an old Calif orriian told us the soldiers of an 
expedition he was with in 1815 reached these painted 


rocks and found the figures there then; also, at another 
place nearly opposite to the other and which is situated 
in the Coast Range, in a Canada leading from the San Juan 
arroyo. which empties into the Salinas River near the 
Mission of San Miguel. It is not far from the Sulphur or 
Carisso Springs there, and a few miles only from the 
borders of the great valley. These last paintings are said 
to be on soft sandstone rocks ; while those of the first, at 
Painted Rock Valley, are on a hard, bluish rock, and the 
rock itself is about twenty feet square in dimensions, 
hollow in the middle, like a bowl with the bottom knocked 
out. Other paintings or hieroglyphics are found also 
in the vicinity of Truckee Lake. This Painted Rock Valley 
hollows oft* to the east, and makes an immense plain, with 
out wood, and with water in small but deep holes. These 
water holes are only a few feet across, and entirely bare of 
wood near them, and are nearly always situated on the tops 
of hills. The Painted Rock Valley does not empty into the 
Tulare plains, but into the eastern aspects of New Mexico, 
and is south of the Coso region. Great bands of the big 
horn or mountain sheep are found in its vicinity, and are 
excellent eating, but the pelt is like that of deer, with hair, 
and not wool. The range of this animal is all along the San 
Bernardino Mountains, into Northern Lower California as 
far as the ocean, and eastward to the head of the Gulf, the 
mountains of the Gila, and all the country north from the 
Gila to the southern rim of the Great Basin. The bands are 
often thousands in number, the males with immense horns, 
while the females are without this appendage. 

This gentleman informs us that while hunting in the 
Tulare lakes he found immense numbers of the white swan, 
who make their nests on tule floats, and hatch three or four 
young a year. They will often weigh thirty pounds, and 
are excellent eating and very fat, and much sought after by 
the hunters. They feed partly on the fresh water muscle, 
or clam, which is found in extraordinary abundance in all 
the Tulare waters, completely paving the bottom and very 
dangerous to walk on, as they are thin and brittle, and will 
cut like glass. The Indians feed greedily on them, and 

t? j 



latterly they are used to fatten the hogs bred in that vicinity. 
This muscle has a shell of silicarious and not calcareous 
formation, and weighs about three ounces. It is found in 
all the fresh water lagunas of the coast. 

It is a very singular thing that these Tulare lakes have 
never been carefully explored. They are said to have been 
discovered by Padre Pedro Font, in 1775, in a journey 
overland from Sonora to Monterey with Captain Anzar, 
who was afterward killed on the Colorado by the Yumas. 
In 1819, a very careful survey was made of them in an 
expedition from Monterey, commanded by Captain J. M. 
Estudillo, who made a small, but very detailed, map of the 
Lake country, a copy of which may be seen in the Surveyor- 
General s office in San Francisco. 

Another trace of the ancient Indians exists in our State 
on the San Cayatano Rancho of the Saticoy Valley, belong 
ing to the Messrs. Mores. This trace is a large field of some 
five hundred acres, divided by exactly parallel lines of 
earth, formerly irrigated, and which we are assured is neither 
the work of the Mission Indians nor those existing. It is 
divided exactly like those of the Gila or Pirn a Indians. 
All the canal or acequia marks are very old, and entirely 
different from those of the Mission Indians, which can be 
seen in the same valley in several places. The field is 
situated on a dry mesa, about a league from the ranch 
house, and near the mouth of the Sespe arroyo ; the supply 
ing canal can be traced two or three miles up that arroyo. 
Near by are found several singular mounds, which may be 
burial-places ; they are in hollows of the ground not far 
from the plateau. We were assured by an American who 
had resided in the valley several years, that he was very 
sure that this field was never cultivated or irrigated by the 
Mission or present Indians, and that it had always puzzled 
him, and he concluded it must have been done by the ancient 
Indians, of whom we know nothing. He had heard of the 
bones of buffaloes being found in this valley, and this con 
firms a statement made in Cabrilo s voyage of 1542, who 
when he anchored in front of Saticoy Valley was told by 
the Indians that people lived to the eastward of them who 


had cows and planted maize. The discoverer of California 
found the Indians of this vicinity much smarter than any 
where along the coast. Near the mouth of the Saticoy 
River are two immense smooth mounds, called by the 
Indians Tosalaloo and Mosolollo, over a mile long. 

There is another trace of this ancient Indian population in 
a curious roadway which leads from the mouth of the 
Coahuila Valley of San Gorgonio Pass across the desert 
country, for over one hundred and forty miles, in nearly a 
straight easterly line, to the mouth of the Big Canon of the 
Colorado River. All along this pathway, which is worn 
deep into the earth and soft rocks, the ground is covered 
thickly with broken unglazed pottery, supposed to be the 
remains of water vessels used by the ancient Indians. The 
present Indians know nothing of those who made this high 
way, which ends near Noble s ranclio of San Gorgonio 
Pass, or Valley of the Coahuilas. 

The roadway is not much over a foot broad, and what is 
very curious, it has in many of the rocks the distinct im 
pression of human feet and of animals. It is worn into the 
soil several inches, and is very ancient, and still perfectly 
preserved in all its parts, as our informant related to us. 
By-paths lead from it in straight lines to off-lying water 
holes and springs, which are all surrounded with broken 

It is well known that the present Indians living in the 
little valleys of the eastern slopes of the San Bernardino 
Mountains, in San Diego and San Bernardino counties, who 
number several thousands, and are mostly the neophytes of 
the southern missions, and generally speaking Spanish, have 
a tradition from their grandfathers that the Colorado desert 
was once thickly settled, and never in want of water, and 
well cultivated in many parts. These Indians still cultivate 
the ground and raise grain, cattle, sheep, horses, &c., and 
even make woolen blankets, as many of the Colorado tribes 
have done for many years back, some of which were of a 
superior quality, and which we have ourselves seen. These 
blankets are similar to the Navajo Zuni serapes, and can 
easily hold water. 


In 1853, there were given out in the California papers 
great stories of the discovery of an immense pyramid and 
an extensive stone bridge being found in the eastern or 
Colorado parts of San Diego, Los Angeles or San Bernar 
dino counties. The story was supposed to have been got 
up by some gold-mining hunters, or emigrants, sons of the 
father of lies, and descendants of the anathematized Men- 
doza, and was consequently disbelieved by Californians, 
who are not easily deceived, either by politicians or gam- 
businos. Nor ought they to be, if ten millions of public 
debts, or Fraser River, or Gold Lake are proofs of their 
sagacity. If they had not have doubted no one would 
have found gold at Cariboo, or Salmon River, nor will ever 
any one find the gold-bullet country of Aubrey, nor the 
great pyramid and stone bridge, nor the capital of the 
ancient kings of California, which is still supposed to exist 
in some secret valley inside the dry mountains between the 
headwaters of the Rio Salado and Bill Williams s fork of 
the Colorado a very terra incognita by tradition of 
Jesuits and Indians, full of silver, gold and mercury, and 
waiting to immortalize some new discoverer, whose paths 
diverge from the field of Mars. 

The mounds of Tosalaloo and Mosolollo, referred to as 
existing near the mouth of the Saticoy River, are strange 
looking objects, and as they are in the midst of a fiat plain 
of great extent, running down to the ocean some six miles 
off, they suggest the idea which some of the old Indians are 
said to entertain of an ancient burial-place, probably of 
some of the sea kings of California, whose cities are now 
sunk under the neighboring channel of Santa Barbara. 
The high-road runs between them, and they are some two 
hundred feet high smooth, rounded, and entirely bare of 
trees. But they may be only one of the caprices of Mother 
Nature. The smaller mounds near the ancient irrigated 
fields of Cayatano are twenty miles up the valley, which 
has an exceedingly fertile soil in the bottoms ; the whole 
country opens to the ocean in an immense plain twenty 
miles along the sea-shore, backed by high ranges of moun 
tains. These smaller mounds are only five or six feet high, 


by about ten feet long ; they are at the western end of the 
acequias, and seem to have been water-worn or worked out, 
by running water all around the mounds, so as to isolate 
each one, of which there are ten or twelve in number. 

in San Francisco Bulletin, 1862. 


THE mighty tide of empire dashed 
Upon a continent s bold strand, 

And, rolling back, its billows washed 
And fertilized a desert land. 

They came the founders of a State, 
The men with spirit brave and free, 

Who snatched the magic wand of Fate 
And shaped their own high destiny. 

They smote with it the barren rock, 
A silver tide was disentombed ; 

The mountains sank beneath the shock, 
And arid valleys rose and bloomed. 

In canon, desert, plain, and glade, 
On mountains towering to the skies, 

The broad foundations have been laid 
On which our noble State shall rise. 

Proud may we be, whom God selects 
As trusty instruments of fate, 

Proud may we be, the architects 
Who rear the pillars of a State. 

The humblest laborers who toil 

Within the tunnels damp and murk, 

Are clothed with majesty the while 
They aid this grand creative work. 


Though poor, the legacy they leave 
The gift of wealth or rank exceeds 

This proudest boast their souls shall have 
A heritage of noble deeds. 

Then, lend a stout and willing hand, 
And let the stately structure tower, 

With its proportions fair and grand, 
As reared by superhuman power. 

So fair, so grand, that we with pride 

Shall list while generous tongues relate 
i Where met the East and Western tide 
Was formed at last a perfect State ! 

in the Virginia (JVev.) Territorial Enterprise. 


President and Dictator of Mexico, has passed 
a remarkable career, and is a remarkable char 
acter. He was born in Jalapa, February 21, 
1798. He first came into public notice in 
1821, in the Mexican war of independence ; and in 1822, 
haying expelled the royalists from Vera Cruz, he was ap 
pointed to the command of that city. In November of that 
year, he was deposed by Yturbide, who had proclaimed 
himself Emperor ; but Santa Anna refused to submit to his 
authority, raised the banner of the republic in Vera Cruz, 
and in 1823 succeeded in compassing Yturbide s downfall. 
In the changes which quickly followed, he placed himself 
at the head of the federal party, but was defeated, and re 
tired to his estate at Jalapa. In 1828, he took the field 
against the government of Pedraza, chosen to the presidency 
by an electoral majority of two, declaring the election of 
Guerrero valid ; and after a series of engagements retired to 


Oajaca. The command of the forces against the Spanish 
expedition under Barradas, was intrusted to him ; and em 
barking at Yera Cruz, he forced Barradas to capitulate at 
Tampico, September 11, 1829. Guerrero made him Minister 
of War and Commander-in-Chief of the army, but, continu 
ing afterward to exercise the dictatorial powers with which 
he had been invested to repel the invasion, Santa Anna 
combined with Bustamente to overthrow him, and the latter 
was made President by the army. In January, 1 832, how 
ever, Santa Anna headed a new insurrection, declaring for 
Ms former opponent, Pedraza, whose triumph he insured by 
a victory over the government troops, in October of that 
year. Being himself chosen President in March, 1833, he 
had to confront a popular insurrection under Arista and 
Don Gabriel Duran, but speedily subdued it. He now left 
the party of the federalists, and put himself at the head of 
the centralists, who wished the power concentrated in the 
executive government. Though a favorite with the army, 
which desired him to be made Dictator, he was unpopular 
with the nation, especially as a rumor was spreading that 
he aimed at the imperial dignity. A new revolt broke out 
in four provinces, and a manifesto was issued at Texca 
against his government. On May 11, 1835, he utterly de 
feated the army of the insurgents, on the plains of Guada- 
lupe, near Zacatecas. killing two thousand, and taking two 
thousand seven hundred prisoners. This was a fatal blow 
to the republican party in Mexico, and Santa Anna was 
named Dictator. The destruction of the federal constitution 
was soon consummated ; the State Legislatures were abol 
ished, their places being supplied by a departmental coun 
cil, and the governors of the several States became depend 
ent upon the supreme power. Mexico was submissive, but 
a revolutionary feeling had been long existing in Texas, 
which now broke out into open insurrection. Early in 
1836, Santa Anna took the field in person. By the middle 
of February, he reached the Rio Grande, at the head of six 
thousand troops, stormed the Alamo at San Antonio, on 
March 6, after several days siege, and massacred its de 
fenders, but with great loss to himself, and after the mas- 


sacre at Goliad, done under his express orders, marched 
toward Gonzales. At San Jacinto, he met the Texan army, 
under Houston, by whom he was totally routed, April 21, 
and the day following taken prisoner. During his captivity 
he made a treaty with the Texans, which resulted in nothing, 
as his functions were suspended by the Mexican govern 
ment. In 1837, he was set at liberty, and returned to his 
native country, by way of the United States. On reaching 
Yera Cruz, he was coldly received. At the Presidential 
election of that year, he received but two out of sixty-nine 
electoral votes. He had retired to his estate, twenty-seven 
miles from V era Cruz, when (November 27) the castle of San 
Juan de Ulloa was bombarded by the French. He hastened 
to Yera Cruz, where his services were accepted by General 
Victoria, and took command after the fall of the castle. He 
repelled an assault upon that city by the French (December 
5), forcing them to re-embark, but received a wound in the 
leg, which necessitated its amputation. In the contentions 
between the centralists and federalists, which during the 
following years distracted Mexico, he was one of the leaders 
of the former; and from October 10, 1841, to June 4, 1844, 
he was virtual Dictator, under the title of Provisional Pres 
ident, Bravo and Canalizo acting as his substitutes during 
two intervals of absence with the army. He was again Con 
stitutional President, under the instrument of June 12, 1843, 
from June 4 to September 20, 1844, when he was deposed 
by a new revolution, taken prisoner near Tlacolula, on Jan 
uary 15, 1845, banished for ten years, and took up his resi 
dence in Cuba. The two succeeding Presidents, Herrera 
and Paredes, found themselves unable to grapple with the 
difficulties under which the country was laboring, aggra 
vated as they were by the war just breaking out with the 
United States. Santa Anna was recalled, and by the con 
nivance of the American Government, which, for reasons 
that have never been made known, supposed him favorable 
to peace and recognizing the independence of Texas, he was 
permitted to pass through the fleet and reach Mexico in 
safety. There, contrary to the opinion entertained in the 
United States, he declared vigorously for the war, and was 


appointed generalissimo by the provisional government 
under Salas, and in December was made Provisional Presi 
dent. Immediately after, at tlie head of twenty thousand 
men, the flower of the Mexican army, he advanced north 
ward, and on February 22, 1847, attacked the American 
troops at Buena Vista, five thousand strong, under General 
Taylor. He was effectually repulsed, but nevertheless main 
tained his reputation and popularity, and collected a new 
army for the defense of the eastern frontier. In the mean 
time Anaya was elected President, and Santa Anna, taking 
command of his troops, intrenched himself at Cerro Gordo, 
where, on April 18, he was attacked and defeated by the 
Americans under Scott. Yet in spite of these disasters, he 
was enabled to collect three thousand men from the frag 
ments of his broken army, and, retreating toward the na 
tional capital, halted at Ayutla. There he was informed of 
his appointment to the Presidency, as it was felt by the 
Mexicans, amid all their disheartening reverses, that he was 
the only man who could make head against the Americans 
with any prospect of success. But finding subsequently 
that the election for President which the States had held on 
May 15, was unfavorable to his pretensions, he prevailed on 
Congress to postpone the counting of votes until Janu 
ary, 1818, and in the mean time banished or imprisoned all 
those opposing his schemes, and established a severe cen 
sorship of the press. During the course of the year he car 
ried on secret negotiations with Scott, and Trist, the Ameri 
can commissioner, with questionable sincerity, and certainly 
with no result. He organized an army of thirty thousand 
men for the defense of the capital. The battles of Contreras 
and Churubusco followed (August 19 and 20, 1847), and the 
next day an armistice, proposed by General Scott, was ac 
cepted by him, which suspended hostilities till September 8. 
The battle of Molinos del Rey was fought September 9 ; and 
on September 16, 1847, the City of Mexico was captured, 
having previously been evacuated by the officers of the 
government. Santa Anna now resigned the executive chair 
to Peua y Pena, who had been constitutionally elected his 
successor, and, though he despaired of successfully resisting 


the party of peace in Mexico, lie made a last effort to re 
trieve his reputation by the siege of Puebla ; but he was 
attacked by General Lane at Huamantla, and forced to re 
tire from the place, which was now relieved. In the middle 
of January, 1848, an attempt was made to surprise him at 
Tehuacan, where he was lurking, but failed ; and about 
February 1, Santa Anna informed the Minister of War, and 
the American Commander-in- Chief, that he desired to leave 
Mexico, and "seek an asylum on a foreign soil, where he 
might pass his last days in that tranquillity which he could 
never find in the land of his birth. The desired permission 
was granted, and on April 5, 1848, he took passage from La 
Antigua to Jamaica. In that island he remained several 
years ; but the anarchical condition of Mexico under the 
Presidencies of Herrera and Arista turned men s eyes once 
more upon him, and returning to Mexico in 1853, he was 
received with great enthusiasm. He was appointed Presi 
dent for one year, after which time he was to call a constit 
uent Congress ; but he fomented a new revolution by which 
he was declared President for life, with power to appoint 
his successor, and the title of Most Serene Highness. He 
began to rule with despotic authority, and the revolution of 
Ayutla followed, led by General Alvarez. After a struggle 
of two years, Santa Anna, finding himself without resources, 
since he had spent the ten millions of the Gadsden treaty, 
signed his unconditional abdication, and sailed (August 16, 
1855) from Vera Cruz for Havana. He afterward went to 
Turbaco, Venezuela, for two years, and has since resided in 
the island of St. Thomas. On the advent of Maximilian in 
Mexico, he embraced the cause of the usurper, believing, as 
he declared, that Maximilian could restore peace to the 
country. He was disappointed, however, in his hopes, and 
perhaps his expectations ; for he soon abandoned Mexico 
and the cause, and returned to St. Thomas. Here he has 
since resided. if. Y. Herald, May 14, 1866. 



IHIS valley is some fifty miles long by thirty in 
breadth, and, save at two points, it is wholly 
encircled by mountains, up whose steep sides 
it is impossible for any but expert climbers to 
ascend. It is devoid of vegetation and the 
shadows of bird or wild beast never darkened 
its white glaring sand. In the early days, trains of emi 
grants bound for California passed, under the direction of 
guides, to the south of Death Valley, by what is known as 
the "old Mormon road." In the year 1850, a large train, 
with some three hundred emigrants, mostly from Illinois 
and Missouri, came from Salt Lake, guided by a Mormon. 
When near Death Valley, a dissent broke out in a part of 
the train, and twenty-one families came to the conclusion 
that the Mormon knew nothing about the country ; so they 
appointed one of their number a leader, and broke off from 
the main party. This leader determined to turn due west ; 
so with the people and wagons and flocks he traveled for 
three days, and then descended into the broad valley, 
whose treacherous mirage promised water. They reached 
the center, but only the white glaring sand, bound by the 
scorched peaks, met their gaze on every hand. Around 
the valley they wandered, and one by one the men died and 
the panting flocks stretched themselves in death under the 
hot sun. Then the children, crying for water, died at their 
mothers breasts, and with swollen tongues and burning 
vitals, the mothers followed. Wagon after wagon was aban 
doned, and strong men tottered and raved and died. After 
a week s wandering, a dozen survivors found some water in 
the hollow of a rock in the mountains. It lasted but a 
short time, then all perished but two, who, through some 
miraculous means, got out of the valley and followed the 
trail of their former companions. Eighty-seven persons, 
with hundreds of animals, perished in this fearful place, 
and since then the name of Death Valley has been applied 
to it. Mr. Spears says that when he visited it last winter, 


after the lapse of eighteen years, he found the wagons still 
complete, the iron works and the tires bright, and the 
shriveled skeletons lying in many places side by side. 
& F. Golden City, June 28, 1868. 


treating of the distribution of the different rocks 
covering the face of the globe, I shall divide 
the world into six portions. In the North there 
are North America, Europe, and Asia ; and in 
the South, South America, Africa, and Aus 

I. North America. The first land which appeared in 
North America was Russian America, at Behring s Straits, 
with a narrow strip running south to the Straits of Panama, 
the whole being Silurian rock, which formed the west 
coast. On the east coast there is Labrador, Canada, and 
Greenland, and a narrow strip running south to Virginia, 
which is likewise composed of silurian rock. These begin 
nings of North America form two long islands. The waters 
recede caused by so large a discharge of solid matter from 
the ocean (the two islands just named) when the Devonian 
and carboniferous rocks of the Hudson s Bay and the 
United States make their appearance, which forms another 
island, midway between the two previously named. The 
waters again recede, and the oolite and chalk of the Missis 
sippi valley are produced. This addition converts the three 
islands into two, which are now only separated by a nar 
row sea. The water once more subsides, when the London 
clay formation comes to light, which unites the two islands 
and completes the formation of the North American conti 
nent. A considerable extent of London clay is at the same 
time added to the shores of the Gulf of Mexico. The valley 
of the Mississippi, as far up as Red River, is, however, allu 
vial, formed by the soil carried down by the Mississippi 
and Missouri. The elevation of the older rocks being 
always greater than those which follow them, it is very 


evident that the formation of dry land and the appearance 
of new rocks has been caused, not by the upheaving of the 
land, but by the subsidence of the waters. The solidifica 
tion of the water by the creation of rocks, and the conse 
quent reduction of the temperature, could not fail to reduce 
the water level. In modern times there are almost no 
traces of this action going on, but neither are there any visi 
ble traces of new rocks being formed, and without the one 
we can not have the other. 

II. Europe. Europe began with a large island in the 
North, comprising Norway, Sweden, Lapland, and Finland, 
with a number of small islands dotted over the area now 
occupied by the various countries of Europe. The water 
having receded, the Devonian and carboniferous rocks are 
added. The water again subsides, and the oolite and chalk 
make their appearance. The sea having been again 
reduced, the London clay makes its appearance, when all 
Europe, including Great Britain, is united and formed into 
one continent. The deluge, which caused the northern 
drift, now makes its appearance, and detaches England 
from the continent. 

III. Asia. The northern and western coasts of Asia being 
silurian, that would form one vast island, detached from 
Europe, in the form of a crescent, beginning with Siberia 
and Russian America, and ending with Malacca and Hin- 
dostan. The sea recedes, and large patches of Devonian 
and carboniferous rocks are added. The water having again 
fallen, the oolite and chalk appear in China, Thibet, and 
Arabia. The sea is again reduced, and a vast field of Lon 
don clay is laid dry, which connects Europe with Asia. 
The deposit forms Western Siberia and the deserts of Central 
Asia and Arabia. The northern part of Siberia is formed 
of drift or alluvial, which has either been caused by the 
deluge or carried down by the great rivers running north, 
or partly from both causes. The deluge appears to have cut 
through Behring s Straits, and separated the old world 
from the new. The rocks on both sides of Behring s Straits 
being low, and of the same description, there is every indi 
cation that this was so ; and when we find the Mongolian 


race inhabiting the north on both continents to this day, 
this theory is pretty well established. 

The Arctic Ocean was probably at one time a lake, sur 
rounded on all sides by land. This lake in the early ages 
would be entirely free from frost, snow, or ice, for then the 
temperature was much higher than it is now, of which the 
fossils of tropical animals found in Lapland are proof. 
Suppose that temperature was 156 at the tropics at the 
period of the London clay, and there was a general fall of 
temperature of one-half, that would leave a temperature of 
78 for Lapland and Greenland. In this state of the world, 
this great Arctic sea or lake overflows, or is visited by a 
tornado or convulsion of nature. The waters burst through 
the barriers of land that confine them at Bhering s Straits, 
Baffin s Bay, and Spitzbergen, which flood the whole world, 
and the drifting matter found in all parts of the globe testi 
fies to the extent and fatal results of this fearful catastrophe. 

IV. South America. This continent began with three 
great islands, the first forming the western coast from 
Panama to Cape Horn, the second forming nearly the whole 
of the Brazils, and the third forming the northern coast all 
being composed of silurian rocks. The sea having receded, 
patches of Devonian and carboniferous rocks are added to 
the dry land. The water again subsides, when a vast 
extent of London clay is left dry, which connects the 
islands, and completes the formation of South America. 
The alluvial formation is here very extensive, formed by 
the soil washed down by the Amazon and the La Plata. 

V. Africa. This vast continent began with one great 
island, forming the southern half of Africa and the western 
shores of the Red Sea. Patches of carboniferous rocks are 
next added. The sea having receded, a strip of oolite and 
chalk appears along the shores of the Mediterranean, which 
forms a second island. The waters again subside, and a 
vast deposit of London clay, forming the great desert of 
Sahara, completes the formation of the African continent. 

VI. Australasia. The great island of Australia began 
with an island in the form of a crescent, composed of 
silurian rocks. At the same time, the islands of New 


Guinea, Borneo, Tasmania, and JS T ew Zealand were formed, 
which are likewise Silurian. The waters having receded, 
strips of carboniferous rocks appear on the eastern coast of 
Australia, and in most of the other islands. The coasts are 
next skirted with oolite and chalk, left bare by the receding 
of the waters. The ocean having again subsided, the center 
of Australia, which is London clay, becomes dry land, when 
the island continent, as it now exists, is completed. 

There is a great want of land in the south compared with 
the north. Land appeared first in quantity in the north, 
which impeded the natural flow of the ocean in that region. 
It was different with the south, where there was compara 
tively little land, and where the currents pursued their 
course with little interruption. The peculiar shape of the 
land in the south, with pointed ends turning southward, as 
in the case of South America, Africa, Arabia, Hindostan, 
and Malacca, indicate a flow of water to the north, which 
had washed away the land and left the continents the shape 
they now are. While the northern drift sent the water from 
the north to the south there would of necessity be a counter 
current from the south to the north, and while there are in 
dications of the one current in the north, there are equally 
strong indications of the other current in the south, as has 
been already explained. When additions of new land are 
made, new deposits of rocks now unknown will cover the 
land. We have been gauging the waters of the Atlantic, 
and if we could bore down a few hundred fathoms in the 
bottom of the sea we should know what these new rocks 
are. The following table gives the probable quantities of 
the different rocks covering the six portions into which I 
have divided the globe. The figures represent millions of 
square miles : 










North America 


..2 .. 

i . . 











South America 




2 .. 


Africa. . . 










1 .. 


c, -3 

I I 

| 4 

Total 17^ . 71 .. 3 .. 14 .. 6^ .. 2 ..50^ 


It will be observed from the above estimate that there are 
more silurian rocks on the face of the earth than other 
viz., 17,500,000 square miles; London clay coming next, 
which extends to 14,000,000 miles. Of Devonian and car 
boniferous rocks there are 7,500,000 ; of trap and granite, 
2,000,000; and of drift and alluvial, 6,250,000. The vast 
extent of the London clay points to this period, or rather 
the one immediately preceding it, as the age of the earth 
when the absorption of the waters, and the consequent 
reduction of the temperature, went on most rapidly, for we 
may always measure the fall of the water level by the extent 
of the land uncovered. 

The generally received theory of the drift is that the 
Arctic Sea was frozen at the time of the London clay. The 
ice was broken up by some convulsions of nature, which 
drifted enormous icebergs over the whole world, carrying 
on their backs huge masses of soil and rock. That such an 
improbable theory should have gained ground among scien 
tific men only shows the want of some better theory to 
account for the facts of the case. There is no want of evi 
dence to show that the Arctic Sea could not have been 
frozen over at the time of the drift ; and it is equally im 
possible to conceive how the icebergs could have been 
loaded with soil and rock, as they are said to have been. 

The theory of the drift which I have ventured to propose, 
is, in my opinion, a very probable one. One-half of Siberia 
consists of drift and alluvial, not confined merely to the 
estuaries of the rivers, but stretching along the coast from 
the White Sea to Kamschatka, a distance of many thousand 
miles. This enormous mass of drifted matter indicates a 
vast accumulation, caused by the influx of the rivers running 
north on the one hand, and the pent-up waters of the 
Arctic Sea on the other. Should a new exploring expedi 
tion be sent to the North Pole, it would be well to take this 
new theory into consideration, and to furnish any facts that 
may be gathered tending to elucidate the matter. 

Such is a general estimate of the structure of the earth, 
and how the dry land emerged from the bosom of the 
waters. Unionmlle, Nevada, Huinboldt Register. 





IT is a century ago. Who can realize it? Could 
any California!! embody the thought while wit 
nessing, at Santa Clara, in June, 1867, tli3 
examination of the students of the great col 
lege of that religious fraternity, which many 
Roman Catholics affirm is the "right hand of the Church," 
that their predecessors were ignominiously expelled one 
hundred years ago from the Californias, and forbid ever to 
set foot again in the American dominions of the King of 


Thus came about this mighty event in the religious and 
political peripheries of the family of man. The Jesuits, 
since the year 1550, had explored every portion of the New 
World (save the ancient Alta California), from the frontiers 
of Auracania to the frozen wilds of Labrador from the 
lines of the Atlantic to the boundless horizons of the South 
Seas. In the pampas of La Plata, among the sclvas of 
Paragua}^ in the interminable forests of Brazil, among the 
beautiful dells and glades and vcgas of Chili, of Peru, of 
Quito, of New Granada, of Venezuela, in the very heart of 
the Andes, within the most lovely valleys and temperate 
lands of Central America and Mexico ; throughout the 
islands of the Carribean Antilles ; from the gates of the 
Mississippi to the great lakes of New France, where the 
mighty St. Lawrence fountains its floods, to the Gulf of 
Newfoundland, lived these men among the children of the 
Aztecs and the Tzendals and the Incas, brooding over the 
fall of their ancient empires and traditions ; having gone 
forth from the haunts of European civilizations, with an 
irrevocable vow to conquer the races of men to the dominion 
of Christ to fix their faith to the Church of Rome to make 
all know that St. Peter was keeper of the doors of heaven ; 



on this rock do " I build my Church, nor shall the gates 
of hell prevail." In every country of Europe : in Egypt, 
in Syria, in Abyssinia, in Persia, in Chaldea, in Armenia ; 
in the boundless steppes of Tartary and the rugged fronts 
of the Caucasus ; in the deserts of Arabia, in the humid, 
heated plains of Bengal ; among the nations of the Carnatic, 
the Malabar, and the Coromandel ; the super- refined Gentiles 
of the Oriental Illuminati, glorying in the fabrications of 
magic and enchantery, and dwelling among the splendid 
ruins of the old sultans and rajahs, in the imperium of the 
Great Mogul ; all through populous, crowding, million- 
peopled China, to the very throne of the Mantchoos at 
Pekin, they bore the Banner of the Cross ! 


In most of the powerful States and Kingdoms of Conti 
nental Europe they founded Colleges, which became the 
mother seats of letters and science, and to this day these 
institutions, secularized to the Governments after their ex 
pulsion before 1767, are still the great centers of learning 
and of immense collections of books and instruments of 
philosophic demonstration. Many of the sons of kings and 
princes, and thousands of the first families of Europe, with 
multitudes of those of the less wealthy and of the middle 
classes, joined the Order and went forth year after year 
into every land, country, and people under the sun, as 
teachers or missionaries or lay brethren, to capture human 
souls ; to build up the houses, the churches, the parishes, 
the convents, or the colleges of the company ; to lay down 
their lives as martyrs or as civilizers of pagan nations or of 
savage tribes, or instructors of Christian youth, or pro 
fessors in learned universities, or priests to serve the hum 
blest parish church in Christendom, or as confessors to 
kings, queens, princes, nobles, or statesmen. They built 
the most splendid churches in Europe and filled them with 
the choicest morceaux of art ; and innumerable were the 
" monsters of erudition " which the sons of Ignatius gave 
to the learned world in theology, philosophy, languages, 


science, belles lettres, history, archaeology, travels, and 


Throughout all Spanish and French America they estab 
lished hundreds of missions among the Indian tribes, and in 
Mexico, New Granada, Quito, and Peru were the founders 
of universities, colleges, and libraries, and they reduced to 
grammatical rules not less than fifty different idioms of the 
aboriginal tribes of the Americas, some of which were the 
results of life-labor, and are monuments of acute research, 
industry, and learned zeal, and are in constant use to this 
day in letters and common life. 


The histories and explorations of the barbarous or con 
quered countries of the New World, which the Jesuits 
compiled, attest the industry, the zeal, and the intelligence 
of the fraternity ; and it may be truly said, if these works 
had perished, there would be no true foundation for the 
history of one half of America. The immense numbers of 
philological and historical volumes on China, India, Japan, 
Western Asia, and Eastern Europe compiled by the mem 
bers of this religious corporation is one of the most wonder 
ful features of modern letters, and has drawn forth the 
plaudits of the most bitter of their enemies and the deepest 
regrets from high-minded philosophers that this great body 
of literary monks and scribes should have been plundered 
by princes and people to such poverty and destruction. To 
give a better idea of what the Jesuits have done in the re 
public of letters, ten years ago a French author made a 
bibliographical catalogue of their writings, which filled 
four or five large octavos. A highly interesting account of 
their missionary labors in English America before 1750 was 
written by no less a personage than the excellent bishop of 
the Protestant Episcopal Church of California, to whom the 
Jesuits are indebted for much honorable and Christian 



In Mexico, Guatemala, Venezuela, Ecuador, Peru, Bo 
livia, and Chili, and particularly Paraguay, they established 
an immense number of missions among the Indian tribes, 
and, after long years of laborious perseverance, brought 
hundreds of thousands of them into the habits of orderly, 
civilized life, and greatly extended and confirmed the power 
of Spain, and even made Christian republics in Paraguay 
and California. In all the chief towns of these remote 
countries they erected elegantly constructed and beautiful 
churches, built many of them in the highest style of art, 
which, to this day, call forth the admiration of the traveler. 
In Bogota, in Mexico, Pueblo, Guadalajara, Guatemala. 
Quito, Lima, Cuzco, La Paz of Bolivia, Cordova, and 
Buenos Ayres of La Plata, and in Santiago they erected 
colleges which speedily attained the highest status in Span 
ish America, from the numbers of eminent scholars with 
which they filled the chairs of the professorships, combined 
with large libraries of books, procured from all parts of 
America and Europe, and attracting crowds of the youth of 
the first families of the wealthy Creoles of the New World. 
Thus it was that the marvelous green bay-tree of the Society 
of Jesus struck its roots deep into the earth and grew to a 
lofty height, and spread far and wide its umbrageous arms, 
so that all races of men rested under its shadow, and won 
dered at the power, diligence, and ubiquity of the sons of 
Loyola. In the year 1760, the Jesuits are, by some writers, 
stated to have numbered, in Spanish America, 7,000 persons, 
lay and sacerdotal, over 3,000 of whom were in New Spain 
and Guatemala, many of them natives of the New World, 
for an inexorable rule of democratic equality prevailed from 
Rome to California, and every man, from the richest to the 
poorest, went through one mill and found his exact level, 
according to natural merit. Their own writers affirm, as 
well as their enemies, that the sons of princes or nobles 
served as gardeners or cooks, or those of farmers and 
peasants sat in the chairs of professors or the heads of 


houses. The order accumulated in the Spanish colonies an 
immense amount of wealth, but it was all concentrated in 
churches, convents, libraries, colleges, and mission build 
ings, with landed properties as haciendas and gardens, which 
last were managed by lay brethren, to give rentals for the 
maintenance of the priests, professors, and missionaries, and 
provision for the poor. 


The society thus attained an immense popularity among 
the middling and humbler classes of people, and the Black 
Coats were the most popular of men among the down-trod 
den Indian races. They went unharmed among the most 
savage and barbarous tribes, where no other Spaniard 
dared to set his foot. The priests and professors in Spanish 
America were the most esteemed and welcome of all the 
Catholic clergy, among the rich and the poor; and the 
society, as well as other Spanish writers, assert that their 
lives were eminently virtuous, pure, and honorable, and 
according to the highest standard laid down by the Fathers 
of the Latin Church. After awhile, from the high-bred 
courtesy, patience, and persistent attention of the teachers 
to the development of the characteristic abilities of their 
pupils, no young man s education in the American colonies 
was considered complete until he had passed through their 
schools, and great numbers of their Creole students joined 
the Order, and became famous scholars in belles-lettres, 
theology, and history. 


All this wonderful prosperity, power, and influence could 
not exist without exciting enmity, jealousy, suspicion, and, 
finally, the fiercest opposition and cunningest combinations 
of intrigue. Satan, the enemy of man, ever plotting the 
abasement and destruction of the Church, says the old Jesuit 
chronicler of California, could not see so many souls re 
deemed from perdition without revolting against these 
sacred invasions of his unholy diminion. " You are very 


astute, you gentle shepherds of the simple flocks," said the 
philosophers and the Voltarian Spaniards. "You like to 
sit in soft places, arid know how to feather your nests ; you 
invade the courts of kings and juggle for the consciences of 
the ignorant ; you are too good for this world, and such are 
not to be trusted by those who know two from four. Your 
sleek black coats and catecornered skull-caps cover deep 
heads and black hearts. We ll watch you and scotch you." 
Then commenced an uproar, and a determined fight in 
every family and every circle in the Catholic world from 
the highest to the lowest ; and, after a long and bitter 
struggle, they became the "bottom dog," and the enemies 
of the Jesuits triumphed. 

The Jesuits were driven from city to city ; they were 
abhorred outcasts in Portugal, in Prance, in Naples, in 
Germany, and, finally, in the domains of Spain, in all of 
which they had been the honored of the honored, their last 
and only refuge being the States of the Papal See. " God, 
in his mysterious wisdom, hath allowed the enemy of man 
to prevail for a season," saj^s the ancient Jesuit author; 
"our calumniators, and even those of the household of 
faith, hath overcome us in the conflict. We are chastised 
for our innumerable sins, and bow to the hand that smites. 
We can now realize the words of our Founder, that good 
fortune is never to be trusted, and that we have most to fear 
when things go according to our own desires. Christ is the 
Master of souls, and we are his ministers, and but sqjourn- 
ers on earth to that country where God reigns all in all. 
A. M. D. G." 



In June, 1767, the decree of Charles III., of April 3, 
1767, countersigned by their confirmed enemy, the Minister 
Aranda, arrived in Mexico, and other parts of Spanish 
America, for the expulsion of the Jesuits ; and, in the 
course of the ensuing months, some 7,000 are said to have 
been taken in Spanish vessels to the Pope s dominions from 


different ports of the colonies of Spain. This decree was 
pitilessly executed throughout New Spain on the 25th day 
of June, and the entire property of the Order, amounting 
to over $11,000,000, as stated "by some Mexican writers, 
was confiscated to the Crown, and every Jesuit inarched to 
Yera Cruz. From many delays, by dangers on sea and 
land, this mandate was not accomplished in Peninsular 
California until the end of November following (1767), when 
Capt. Gaspar de Portolo arrived in the country with a com 
mission from the Viceroy de Croix, as Governor of the 
Province, accompanied by fifty soldiers to enforce his 
orders. This was the same military officer who became 
(in 1769) the first Governor of New California, or California 
Felix, and chief of the expedition of exploration, in com 
pany with Padre Junipero Serra, which discovered in that 
year the Bay of San Francisco, and the route to the same 
by land from San Diego. 

Portolo arrived at Loretto and immediately summoned 
Father Ducrue, Superior of the Mission, to deliver up their 
establishments and the effects of the Company into their 
hands. To this Ducrue, a venerable old man who had 
resided long years in the country, responded that his 
Majesty s commands should be obeyed with every respect 
and promptitude. On receiving the order every missionary 
Father promptly put himself on the road for the appointed 
destination, which was Loretto, where, to the number of 
sixteen, they arrived, each with a small wallet of clothing, 
and, as Clavijero says, having all the rest of his personal 
property comprised in " a book of devotions, one of theol 
ogy and one of history/ Some of them traveled through 
five hundred miles of uninhabited, sultry, barren, cactus- 
covered land, from the outposts near the head of the Gulf, 
yet they all arrived safe. 


Then went up a wail from the simple Indian neophytes, 
such as the rugged and solitary wastes of California Petrse 
had never before echoed, and at sixteen different Mission 


towns from Jose del Cabo to near the mouth of the Colorado 
7,000 of the red men fell down on their knees and begged 
the venerated black coats not to desert the soil ; not to 
leave their children unprotected from the demons roaming 
in Pagandom. That could not be, said the faithful pastors ; 
the King and Sovereign and Father of the land, on whose 
dominion the sun shone every hour from its rise to its set 
ting, and so continued till it rose again, day by day, had 
directed them to forever depart from the land, and the Great 
Monarch would send them other care-takers, who must be 
obeyed as their children obeyed them. 


Several of the Fathers were venerable, gray -haired men, 
and had known since 1710 the younger companions who 
had with such unwearied zeal and courage assisted in 
founding the first Missions of La Paz, Loretto, and San Igna- 
cio, under those ever- to-be-remembered names of Kino, 
Salvaterra, Ugarte, Taraval and Piccoli, the apostles and 
frontiersmen of the ultima tliule of the settlement of Chris 
tendom. The Roman Catholics of the domains and com 
monwealths made out of ancient California, can ever affirm 
with honest pride that the land was cleared and the road 
made smooth for all comers thereafter, by pioneers of the 
most irreproachable character ; noble-hearted, learned, and 
pious Christian gentlemen, who forsook titles and honors to 
serve the Redeemer of men, and build up the waste places 
among the miserable solitudes and canons of godless Cali 
fornia. Sixteen of these devout men left their bones in old 
California, while a like number were hurried on board a 
small leaky vessel which bore them, on the 3d of February, 
1768, to the pestiferous port of San Bias, from whence they 
were taken overland to Vera Cruz and deported to Spain. 
In Spain none of the expelled Jesuits from the colonies 
were allowed to debark, but forced to continue their voy 
age, and were landed in crowds, after much suffering and 
numerous deaths, mostly in the Papal States. In this 
territory and in Venice and Bavaria, they were allowed to 
enter existing institutions of the Society, and before the 


suppression of the Order by the Pope and the con 
quest of Italy by Napoleon, the Jesuits from Spanish 
America compiled large numbers of most valuable works of 
history on all parts of the New World, often quoted in the 
columns of the Bulletin, and which are to this day in high 
est esteem in the republic of letters ; among these are the 
volumes relating to California and Arizona, written by De 
Hervas, Clavijero, Del Barco, Alegre, Begert, Steffel and 


At the time the Jesuits left Baja California they had just 
established the frontier Missions of Santa Maria and San 
Francisco Borgas, a short distance above the parallel of 
Cedros Island, with the ultimate design of continuing a 
line of Missions over to the Colorado to connect with their 
outposts in South Arizona, then called Alia Primaria, and 
also to carry them up the northern coast as far as Monterey 
Bay, which last was intended as a port for the Manila gal 
leons, and to open the trade with China. Their Missions 
in 1767 in the Peninsula numbered fourteen, commencing 
with San Jose del Cabo and ending at Santa Maria, some 
twelve leagues east of the Bay of Los Angeles on the Gulf, 
and their Indian neophytes amounted to about 7,000 souls. 
They also had three or four Missions in South Arizona, and 
some twenty others in Sonora, some of them founded before 
1630, all of which, including those of Lower California, were 
given up to the Franciscans. In 1856 an old Mexican 
woman died at Monterey, over one hundred years of age, 
who once informed us that she was a donzela of eleven 
the day when the Jesuit Fathers left the city of Mexico, 
and on that eventful day one of the most destructive storms 
visited the capital the people ever heard of, a fact vastly 
improved by the friends of La Sagrada Compania, who 
were not only numerous but among the wealthiest and most 
devout in the Vicerdyalty particularly those of th ehigh 
families of the Creoles and Indians. 




Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Society of Jesus, was 
"born in 1491, in the province of Biscay, during the time 
Columbus was in Spain entreating Ferdinand and Isabella 
to discover the New World, and was the son of one of the 
oldest families among the Grandees of that monarchy and 
which is still flourishing in the Yascongada. Passing from 
the turbulent life of a soldier, his whole existence became 
changed, and he was made a priest in 1537. In 1540, the 
Order w r as established by Pope Paul III., and in 1541 Igna 
tius Loyola was made the first General of this famous mater 
nity of Sacerdotals. These facts occurred in the two years 
when Viceroy Mendoza was forwarding the explorations of 
New Mexico under Coronado, and w r ho ordered the expedi 
tion of Rodriquez Cabrillo to the northern seas, which 
resulted in 1541, in the first discovery of the coasts of the 
State of California, and at the time of the conquest of Peru 
and before Cortes or Pizarro died. Loyola, eminently the 
friend of the poor and ignorant, after seeing his Order 
establish over one hundred colleges, and flourishing in 
every country of Europe, battling with thundering force 
and effect against the spread of this Protestant Reforma 
tion, and extending into India, China, Japan, and America, 
died at Rome, on the 31st July, 1556, at the age of sixty -five, 
and lies buried at the celebrated church known in our days 
as II Giesu, or of Jesus, and esteemed as next to Saint 
Peter s in architecture and the treasures of Italian art. In 
1622, or sixty- six years after his death, he was canonized as 
a saint by Pope Gregory XV., and has ever been held by 
the Roman Church as one of the mightiest of its spiritual 
warriors, and in the world of letters his fame is as co-exten 
sive as that of Columbus, Napoleon, Cortez, Washington, 
or any other of the prominent actors in the human drama 
since the foundation of the art of printing or the discovery 
of the Western Hemisphere. 




Libraries of volumes have been written pro and con 
touching the Company of Jesus. By their enemies, who 
are among the most celebrated names in politics and letters, 
Catholic and anti-Catholic, they are numbered among the 
greatest foes to human rights, public liberties, or the prog 
ress of man. The books of their friends are too generally 
filled with vapid flatteries and compliments, and there 
exists no dispassionate work containing an intelligent ac 
count of the operations and history of the Order through 
out the world from its foundation to the present day. 
Strange to say no Jesuit writer has yet given a full and 
detailed account of their Society in the two Americas for the 
same space of time ; nearly all their chronicles are old, par 
tial, local, and generally any thing but full and complete. 
Among the best of their works of history on Spanish Amer 
ica are Clavijero s Mexico and Yenega s California, which 
last was edited by Burriel, a celebrated Jesuit professor of 


No Jesuit priest visited or was known in new or Alta 
California before 1849, if we except the exiled Fathers 
Bachelot and Short at San Pedro, from the Sandwich 
Islands in 1832, who shortly afterward left for Chile. In 
the northeastern portions of old Oregon, in the frontiers of 
the Alta California of 1800, among the Indian tribes of the 
Rocky Mountains of the present territories of Idaho- and 
Montana, known as the Kootenais, Pen d Oreilles, Cceur 
d Alenes, Flatheads, Nez Perces, and Blackfeet, the Society, 
about the year 1839, commenced the conversion of those 
wild people, under the supervision of De Smedt, Nobili, 
Mergarine, Congiato, Accolti, Hoecken, Joset, and other 
members of the Order, some of whom serve at present in 
the two colleges at Santa Clara and San Francisco, and all 
of them well known among the old pioneers of Oregon 
ante 1848. These conversions were not well settled until 


about 1846, and in 1861 they had established six reductions 
or villages, and gathered nearly four thousand of these 
tribes into the Catholic fold, besides obtaining a powerful 
influence, over the Blackfeet, who numbered fifteen thou 
sand souls, by the estimates of their missionaries. The great 
college of the Order at Santa Clara was founded by Father 
John Nobili in 1851, at the invitation of Archbishop Ale- 
many, and has become one of the first institutions of 
learning in California. Their students have not only come 
from all parts of our Pacific domain, but from Baja Cali 
fornia, Western Mexico, Central America, Ecuador, Peru, 
and Chile. 


During the time of the first French Empire, the Society 
of Jesus was re-established again by the Papal See, and 
since the opening of China and Japan, and the consolida 
tion of the British empire in India (1840-1863), they have 
again spread over those immense countries. In all the 
English domains and in the English tongued American 
countries, they are in the most flourishing state, but in only 
a few of the Catholic States of Europe are they allowed to 
hold property as a community, and only permitted to act 
as parish priests or under the complete jurisdiction of the 
Bishops. In several of the Protestant States of Europe, 
they are still under the ban of exile, as well as other Roman 
Catholics. In all the Spanish- American Republics within 
the last twenty years, they are now allowed to establish 
their schools and missions, but in none of these Roman 
Catholic countries do they exercise as much influence, nor 
are their numbers at all numerous, compared to other 
Catholic Orders or secular priests. In the United States 
and in the British empire they enjoy all the liberties and 
rights that are accorded to all opinions in religious matters, 
and they not only therein govern a large number of colleges 
and Catholic parishes, but may be said to be vastly more 
protected and respected than in any State or nation of the 
Latin race. In 1783 their convents, colleges, and other 


effects were sequestered to the crown in the new Italian 
kingdom, and to the number of thousands they were re 
morselessly turned out into the world, great numbers of 
them gray -headed old men, who had lived since their youth 
in colleges and convents. The enemies of the Jesuits in 
Europe have one crying fault, that they make mountains of 
diatribes against them for defending their personal and com 
munity rights, and for acting precisely as all other men act 
when there are two fierce parties in the field. The great 
mistake of the Jesuits appears to have been allying them 
selves to the State as coadjutors of their political policy, 
and these, using them as tools, have ground them between 
the upper and the nether millstones. " The loss of every 
thing good is to be feared, wrote Loyola, sharply, to Ardos, 
at the Court of Spain, "when Jesuits mix much with the 
great ones of the world." The greatest good of the greatest 
number, says his biographer, was always on his tongue. 

A curious fact occurs in their history, connected with 
American Revolutionary history. When Father Carrol, a 
member of the Society, and a cousin of Charles Carrol of 
Carrolton, who was a native of Maryland, and the first 
Archbishop of Baltimore, was sent by the old Congress with 
Dr. Franklin to Canada, to stir up the people of that country 
to aid the colonial revolt, gome of the former French Jesuit 
priests who had remained in the country, by a compact with 
the British Government that they should reside in peace 
there, but without exercising their functions as allowed 
(ante 1762) by the French monarchy, sedulously opposed 
Carrol s projects, with the majority of the other Catholic 
priests, and these two envoys were obliged to leave. Both 
of them, however, were transferred as the agents of Con 
gress to France, and every well-informed American knows 
with what fortunate results to the cause of independence- 
and freedom. ALEX. S. TAYLOR, M. D., 

in S. F. Bulletin, January, 1808. 



A HUMAN" skull lias been found in California in tlie 
pliocene formation. The skull is the remnant not only of 
the earliest pioneer of the State, but the oldest known 
human being. * * * * * The skull was found in a 
shaft one hundred and fifty feet deep, two miles from 
Angel s, in Calaveras County, by a miner named James 
Mat son, who gave it to Mr. Scribner, a merchant, and he 
gave it to Dr. Jones, who sent it to the State Geological 
Survey. * * * * * The published volume of the 
State Survey on the Geology of California states that man 
existed here contemporaneously with the mastodon, but this 
fossil proves that he was here before the mastodon was 
known to exist. Daily Paper. 

" Speak, O man, less recent ! Fragmentary fossil ! 
Primal pioneer of pliocene formation, 
Hid in the lowest drifts below the earliest stratum 
Of volcanic tufa ! 

" Older than the beasts, the oldest Palseotherium ; 
Older than the trees, the oldest Cryptogamia ; 
Older than the hills, those infantile eruptions 
Of earth s epidermis ! 

" Eo Mio Plio whatsoe r the " cenc " was 
That those vacant sockets filled with awe and wonder 
Whether shores Devonian or Silurian beaches- 
Tell us thy strange story ! 

" Or has the Professor slighly antedated 
By some thousand years thy advent on this planet, 
Giving thee an air that s somewhat better fitted 
For cold-blooded creatures ? 

" Wert tliou true spectator of that mighty forest 
When above thy head the beautiful Sigillaria 
Reared its columned trunks in that remote and distant 
Carboniferous epoch? 



"Tell us of that scene the dim and watery woodland 
Songless, silent, hushed, with never bird or insect, [mosses, 
Veiled with spreading fronds and screened with tall cltib- 

" When beside thee walked the solemn Plesiosaurus, 
And around thee crept the festive Icthyosaurus, 
While from time to time above thee flew and circled 
Cheerful Pterodactyls. 

" Tell us of thy food those half marine refections, 
Crinoids on the shell and Brachipods au naturel 
Cuttle-fish to which the pieuvre of Victor Hugo 

Seems a periwinkle. 

" Speak, thou awful vestige of the Earth s creation- 
Solitary fragment of remains organic 
Tell the wondrous secrets of thy past existence 
Speak ! thou oldest primate !" 


Even as I gazed, a thrill of the maxilla 
And a lateral movement of the condyloid process, 
With post-pliocene sounds of healthy mastication, 
Ground the teeth together. 

And, from that imperfect dental exhibition, 
Stained with expressed juices of the weed Nicotian, 
Came these hollow accents, blent with softer murmurs 
Of expectoration : 

" Which my name is Bowers, and my crust was busted 
Falling down a shaft, in Calaveras County ; 
But I d take it kindly if you d send the pieces 
Home to old Missouri !" 


in The Califomian. 


jHE Broadway Magazine for October, 1867, 
propounds a theory of the gulf stream which 
will be amusing to navigators and others who 
have studied the subject of ocean currents 
theoretically or practically. The writer, after 
giving a readable account of the gulf stream, 
but not stating and refuting, as he should have attempted 
to do, existing explanatory theories before broaching his 
own, claims that the stream is a subterranean water, mainly 
fed by the Mediterranean Sea. In other words, he thinks 
that the waters of the Mediterranean descend into the 
bowels of the earth through the vortex of Scylla and 
Charybdis, and pass by an underground channel, beneath 
the Atlantic Ocean, to a point opposite the coast of Yucatan, 
where they issue with such force as to start a current at the 
rate of three miles an hour, which does not expend its 
momentum until it has moved for thousands of miles along 
the American coast, and swept past the British isles into 
the Arctic Sea. This gigantic theory stands, like a bird at 
roost, upon one spindling leg of fact. 


This fact is, that an enormous amount of water is con 
stantly pouring into the Mediterranean through the Straits 
of Gibraltar from the Atlantic Ocean, and also from a num 
ber of large rivers, including the Nile. Where, asks the 
theorizer, does this water go ? and he heads off the only 
true answer to his question by saying " it is impossible that 
it should pass off in exhalation." Assuming this impossi 
bility, he revives (for the idea is not original with him), and 
introduces to the world with sundry amendatory flourishes, 
the absurd notion of the subterranean, natural canal afore 
said. It is not often that a theory can be effectually 
exploded by a single charge of critical powder ; but such 
is the case with this one. 

Not only is the surplus water evaporated from the Medi 
terranean, but the volume of that sea would be still further 
reduced but for the supply (of which the writer takes no 
notice) from the Black Sea through the Sea of Marmora 
and the Straits of the Dardanelles. The Black Sea, though 
not quarter as large as the Mediterranean, receives an 
ample supply from rivers about one-third of all the run 
ning waters of Europe emptying at last into its bosom. 
The determination of the current from the Black Sea, as 
well as from the Atlantic, into the Mediterranean is perfectly 
explained by the fact of evaporation, which the writer 
rashly pronounced "impossible." The inpouring of fresh 
water from the tributary rivers and the fall of rain being 
insufficient to make good the losses by evaporation, the 
Mediterranean levies upon her neighbors, and they promptly 
honor her calls, for more water. That is the whole mystery, 
which proves, upon examination, to be no mystery at all. 
The old bugaboo of Scylla and Chary bdis is reinvested 
with its ancient terrors by this modern myth-maker ; 
whereas, as a matter of fact, it is not much of a whirlpool 
after all, and by no means dangerous to skillful navigators. 
The phenomenon is readily explained by the extreme nar 
rowness of the Straits of Messina at that point, and the con 
flict of currents which there takes place currents probably 
caused by the influx of waters from the Atlantic Ocean and 
the Black Sea. 



The cause of that mighty ocean river which we call the 
gulf stream is not a puzzle which requires an hypothesis so 
very far-fetched. It is much more easily accounted for by the 
theory of the great accumulation of water on the eastern 
coast of Africa, between the tropics, by the action of the 
trade winds, or by the rotation of the earth, or by the prog 
ress of the tidal wave, or by the constant interchange of 
cold and hot waters between the different parts of the globe 
necessary to maintain the equilibrium of temperature in the 
ocean by movements analogous to those perpetually going 
on in the atmosphere. 

If we should admit the theory, which we may call "for 
short" the "Mediterranean," that would explain only the 
gulf stream. But there are numerous other ocean currents, 
almost equally marked in their differences from surrounding 
waters such as the "equatorial," the "Japan," the "Ben 
gal," the "Arctic," the "Antarctic," the "Cape Horn," 
the "Peruvian," and the "Mexican." Shall we suppose 
a subterranean stream in their cases also ? Certainly not, 
unless we wish to start paradoxes or propound theories for 
the sake of seeming original and audacious. This may do 
very well in politics, but it will not answer in science. 
Currents of the ocean, like currents of the air, move in 
obedience to certain simple laws for the equilibrizing of 
temperature ; and though we do not yet fully understand 
them, we know enough of them to save us from the necessity 
of concocting such ridiculous theories as the one upon which 
we have commented. N. Y. Journal of Commerce. 

[T was Lieutenant Bent, of the U. S. Navy, an officer 
of much scientific merit, and who was attached 
to the expedition to Japan under Commodore 
Matthew C. Perry, who discovered a river in the 
ocean the Pacific flowing northward and east 
ward along the coast of Asia, corresponding in every essen- 



tial point with the gulf stream of the Atlantic, and 
impinging on the north coast of America imparting its 
southern influence to the coast of Oregon and California, to 
that degree that the winters are so mild in latitude 48 n north, 
that snow rarely falls there, and the inhabitants are never 
able to fill their ice-houses for summer ; and, per contra, 
the vessels trading to Petropaulovski, on the coast of Kam- 
schatka, when becoming un wieldly from the accumulation 
of ice on their hulls and rigging, run over to a higher 
latitude on the American coast, and thaw out, in the same 
manner that sailing vessls frozen on the Atlantic coast of 
America, retreat to the gulf stream, until favored by an 
easterly wind. The fountain of the great Pacific "river in 
the ocean," from which this stream springs, is the great 
equatorial current of the Pacific, which, in magnitude, is in 
proportion to the vast extent of that ocean, when compared 
with the Atlantic. It extends from the tropic of Cancer, on 
the north, to Capricorn, on the south, and has a width of 
near eight thousand miles ; and, with a velocity of from 
twenty to sixty miles per day, it sweeps to the westward in 
uninterrupted grandeur, around three-eighths of the circum 
ference of the globe, until diverted by the continent of 
Asia, and split into innumerable streams by the Polynesian 


GERMAN author states that the number of 
useful plants has risen to about 12,000, but that 
others will no doubt be discovered, as the re 
searches yet made have been completed in only 
portions of the earth. Of these plants there 
are 1,350 varieties of edible fruits, berries, and seeds ; 108 
cereals ; 37 onions ; 460 vegetables and salads ; 40 species 
of palms ; 32 varieties of arrow-root, and 31 different kinds 
of sugars. Various drinks are obtained from 200 plants, 
and aromatics from 266. There are 20 substitutes for 
coffee, and 129 for tea. Tannin is present in 140 plants, 


caoutchouc in 96, gutta percha in 7, rosin and balsamic gums 
in 387, wax in 10, and grease and essential oils in 330 ; 88 
plants contain potash, soda, and iodine ; 650 contain dyes, 
1 47 soap, 266 weaving fibers ; 44 fibers used in paper-making ; 
48 give roofing materials, and 100 are employed for hurdles 
and copses. In building, 740 plants are used, and there 
are 615 known poisonous plants. One of the most gratifying 
developments is, that of 278 known natural families of 
plants, there are but 18 species for which no use has yet 
been discovered. 


[HE first piece of gold found in the United States 
is said to have been found in Cabarras County, 
North Carolina, in 1799. It seems, from the 
account furnished Mr. Wheeler by Col. Burn- 
bandt, that a boy named Conrad Reed went 
with his sister and younger brother to a small 
stream called Meadow Creek, on Sunday, and while engaged 
along the bank shooting fish he saw a yellow substance 
shining in the water, which he picked up, and found to be 
metal. His father carried it to Concord, and showed it to 
William Atkinson, the silversmith of the town, who was 
unable to tell what it was. It was taken home by Mr. Reed, 
and, being about the size of a small smoothing-iron, it was 
used as a weight against the door to keep it from shutting. 
In 1802 he carried it to market at Fayetteville, where the 
jeweler pronounced it gold, and melted it, producing a bar 
six or eight inches long. It was sold to the jeweler for 
$350, a big price, Mr. Reed thought. Upon subsequent 
examination, gold was found along the surface on Meadow 
Creek, and in 1803 a piece of gold was found in the stream 
that weighed twenty -eight pounds. Several other pieces 
were found, varying from sixteen pounds to the smallest 
particles. The vein of this mine was discovered in 1831. 



O FAIR young land, the youngest, fairest far 

Of which our world can boast 
Whose guardian planet, evening s silver star, 

Illumes thy golden coast, 

How art thou conquered, tamed in all the pride 

Of savage beauty still ! 
How brought, O panther of the splendid hide, 

To know thy master s will ! 

No more thou sittest on thy tawny hills 

In indolent repose ; 
Or pourest the crystal of a thousand rills 

Down from thy house of snows. 

But where the wild oats wrapped thy knees in gold, 

The plowman drives his share, 
And where, through canons deep, thy streams are rolled, 

The miner s arm is bare. 

Yet in thy lap, thus rudely rent and torn, 

A nobler seed shall be ; 
Mother of mighty men, thou shalt not mourn 

Thy lost virginity ! 

Thy human children shall restore the grace 

Gone with thy fallen pines ; 
The wild, barbaric beauty of thy face 

Shall round to classic lines. 

And order, justice, social law shall curb 

Thy untamed energies ; 
And art and science, with their dreams superb, 

Replace thine ancient ease. 

The marble, sleeping in thy mountains now, 

Shall live in sculptures rare ; 
Thy native oak shall crown the sage s brow 

Thy bay, the poet s hair. 


Thy tawny hills shall bleed their purple wine, 

Thy valleys yield their oil; 
And music, with her eloquence divine, 

Persuade thy sons to toil. 

Till Hesper, as he trims his silver beam, 

N"o happier land shall see, 
And earth shall find her old Arcadian dream 

Restored again in thee ! BAYARD TAYLOR. 


THE milky way forms the grandest feature of the firma 
ment. It completely encircles the whole fabric of the skies, 
and sends its light down upon us, according to the "best 
observations, from no less than 18,000,000 of suns. These 
are planted at various distances, too remote to be more 
than little understood ; but their light, in the medium of 
measurement, requires for its transit to our earth, periods 
ranging from ten to a thousand years. Such is the sum of 
the great truths revealed to us by the two Herschels, who, 
with a zeal no obstacles could daunt, have explored every 
part of the prodigious circle. 

Sir William Herschel, after accomplishing his famous 
section, believed that he had gauged the milky way to 
its lowest depth, affirming that he could follow a cluster 
of stars with his telescope, constructed expressly for the 
investigation, as far back as would require 303,000 years 
for the transit of its light. But, presumptuous as it may 
seem, we must be permitted to doubt this assertion, as the 
same telescope in the same master-hand was not sufficiently 
powerful to resolve even the nebulae in Orion. Nor must 
we forget that light, our only clue to those unsearchable 
regions, expands and decomposes in its progress, and, com 
ing from a point so remote, its radiant waves could be dis 
persed in space. Thus the reflection is forced upon us, 
that new clusters and systems, whose beaming light will 



never reacli our earth, still throng beyond, and that, 
though it is permitted to man to "behold the immensity, 
he shall never see the "bounds of creation. Marvels of 


18, 1868. 

ND now I dedicate this temple to the true 
mercantile spirit to the spirit of true honesty, 
which, rejecting the letter of the written con 
tract, looks to its spirit, which, disdaining all 
deceit, all mean and petty advantages, takes 
the just for its rule and guide ; to the spirit of true equality, 
which, stripping off from man all accidental circumstances, 
respects and reverences him according to his merit ; to the 
spirit of enterprise, whose field is the earth, the air, the sea, 
the sky, and all that in them is ; to the spirit of munificence, 
that never tires in lavishing its treasures on all good objects, 
on the scientific expedition, on the library, the University, 
on the cause of religion, and on the soldier battling for the 
right ; to the spirit of loyalty, that submits calmly and 
patiently to that great bond which holds society together 
the law which aims to reform, but never to resist or over 
throw ; to the spirit of patriotism, which follows with 
affection, pride, and devotion the daring mark of our 
country s flag ; and to the spirit which worships Grod. 



[HIS extract, from a reminiscence concerning a 
series of murders committed some years since 
in France, develops a rare instance of presence 
of mind in women. We will premise that the 
murderer was known by the fact that in some 
previous brawl or scene of murder he had lost 
three fingers from one of his hands. 

There lived on the outskirts of Dieppe a widow lady by 
the name of Beaumaurice. She had no family, but with 
one servant girl lived in a very retired manner. The cottage 
in which she resided was situated about half a mile from 
the city, a little off from the public road. 

Madame Beaumaurice had been the wife of an officer of 
the Guards. She was an extraordinary woman in every 
particular ; but especially so in respect to a certain coolness 
of character she possessed in the midst of danger, which, 
together with a large amount of moral courage, made her a 
very notable person. The recent murders made, perhaps, 
less impression on her mind than upon any one else in 
Dieppe, although it was naturally supposed the retired 
situation in which she lived would have caused her to be 
more fearful. 

About ten o clock on the night of the 30th of April, just 
ten days after the murders in the Rue Grenard, Madame 
Beaumaurice went up into her bedroom. She was suffer 
ing from a nervous headache. She felt very sleepy, and 
seated herself. The lamp was placed on a chest of drawers 
behind her. Opposite to her was a toilet table, with a cloth 
on it reaching to the floor. She had already commenced 
taking off her clothes, when, happening to look around her 
she saw some thing that for a moment chilled her blood. 
It was the shadow of a man s hand on the floor. The 
hand had lost three fingers. 

She divined the truth in a moment the assassin was 
there in her house under the table. She made not the 


least motion or sign, but reflected two or three minutes as 
to the best course to be pursued. 

She divined what to do, and advancing to the door, called 
the servant maid. 

" Oh, Mary!" exclaimed she, when the girl entered the 
room, " do you know where Mons. Bernard lives ?" 

" Yes, Madame." 

" I have to pay 5,000 francs away very early in the morn 
ing. You will have to run to his house and get money for 

"Very well, Madame." 

" I will write a note, which you will deliver to him, and 
he will give you bank bills to the amount." 

She wrote as follows : 

My dear Monsieur Bernard The assassin of the Rue des 
Armes and the Rue Grenard is in my house. Come imme 
diately with some gens d armes, and take him before he 

And, without entering into any explanation with her ser 
vant, she dispatched her on her errand. She then quietly 
reseated herself and waited. 

Yes, she sat in the room, with that man under the table, 
for a whole hour. She sat, calm, cool, and collected. She 
saw the shadow of the hand shift several times, but the 
murderer did not make any attempt to escape from his place 
of concealment. 

In due time, the gens d armes arrived, and Jacques 
Reynaulds was arrested not, however, without a violent 

I need scarcely add that the most convincing proof as to 
his guilt was found, and in due time he was guillotined. 



jHE Grayson picture is in the collection of the 
Mercantile Library of San Francisco. Gazing 
P|? upon it and following its suggestions rather 
!p than criticising its execution, one can imagine 
^ the feelings of that pioneer family, who, after 
weeks of weary travel across the wide and 
desolate plains of the middle continent, and days of weary 
climbing up rocky steeps, through many dangers real or 
imaginary, have reached the Pisgah of their hopes, and are 
looking down upon the promised land lying in its still 
beauty like the sleeping Princess of the story, waiting but 
the kiss of Enterprise to spring into energetic life. There 
below them is not only the field for industry and enterprise, 
but a panorama of natural charms destined to inspire poets, 
to glow on the canvas of painters, and to take on the magic 
of human associations and tradition. The piney slopes are 
musical with the gurgle of hidden waters tumbling from the 
rim of still lakes ; the coniferous woods open like columned 
aisles ; silver mists hide the wandering streams in abysmal 
canons ; purple ridges wall the bright sky in straight lines 
to left and right ; below them imagination pictures the 
billowy foot-hills, tawny with dry stubble, and islanded 
with oaks of never-failing verdure ; while still beneath and 
beyond, the broad valley of the Sacramento shimmers in its 
summer gold that spring will turn to a variegated parterre, 
and from its western verge rises the Coast Range, soft as 
cloud-land mountains, looking into the Pacific. Over this 
scene are spread those delicious tints of blue and purple and 
gold, those blending shades of violet, lilac and topaz, which 
give to the landscapes of California all the charm of fairy 
illusion. This is the Rasselas Valley of sober fact, Here 
beauty awaits the poet who shall praise and the limner who 
shall copy her manifold fascinations. Overland Monthly, 
July, 1868. 




IFE ! what a gift it is in contrast with non-exist 
ence. Life, even the lowliest, a flower s life, 
a bird s! How the lily and the lark praise 
God for their being, till the air seems odorous 
and musical with their thanksgiving. Yet the 
winged bird is a poor soulless wanderer, and 
the brightest flower dies with the summer. How, then, 
with your life an immortal life, bearing God s image! 
can you be thankless ? A life so conditioned for develop 
ment, cradled in a star-hung world, and watched and warded 
by angels, and preparing and advancing to a destiny for 
whose glory thought has no image and language no name ! 
Men, immortal men, sons of God, princes of an endless 
empire, borne in this chariot of creation to the palace and 
the throne ! you who might have been a fading flower, 
a dead stone, a nothing how can you be thankless 2 You, 
whose afflictions at their most, in contrast with your mer 
cies, are no more than a single plume gone from the wing 
of a soaring eagle a stain of dust on the iron wheel of the 
golden car of a triumphing conqueror ! What mean you, 
thanklessly to count your losses, and trials, and sorrows ? 
Awake to better thoughts and higher moods ! Lift your 
eye from the low paths you are treading, to the divine 
love that watches you, the shining angels that wait on you, 
the eternal city that opens its glorious gates to welcome 
you \-Rev. Dr. WadswortJi, in the Occident, Jan. 4, 1867. 


NORTHWARD lie lies from our home in the town ; 

Over the ribbon of water that flings 
A silver ruffle about his brown 

Harsh hem in its tremulous eddyings. 
Old Tamalpais ! he looks so grave, 
With his brow in the cloud and his chin in the wave. 


Grand old monitor ! proud in his might ! 

Silent and watchful, guarding us well, 
Is it his eye that is piercing the night, 

Or a giddy star that he caught as it fell ? 
Old fellow, tis fitting and meet that you are 
In imperial majesty crowned with a star! 

He is so old that his wrinkled hide 

Is gray as a frown on the rough, mad sea ; 

But his might is alive, and the hurricanes glide 
Not easily by him ; Jie scatters the glee 

Of the wild, roving winds ; you may know when he wakes 

In a laugh, for the echoing earth fairly quakes. 

Broad banners of mist thread in through the Gate, 
And gather about him as cold as a shroud ; 

But little he cares, for his bare, hoary pate 

Is capped with the sunlight far over the cloud. 

Brave Tamalpais ! he looks so grand, 

Bluffing the ocean off, guarding the land ! 

CHAKLES WABEEX STODDAKD, in the Calif or nian. 


THERE is a vein of human feeling that will waken a 
responsive cord in every heart unseared by worldly pur 
suits, in this eloquent poem : 

Through silver portals arched with flowers, 

And turning in with silver sound, 
Attended by the laughing Hours, 

And fairy music floating round 
In crystal circles till it weaves 

A magic spell that softly breaks 

In trembling murmurs on the lakes, 
Like melody of falling leaves 

With roses crowned, a frolic band 

Go ever trooping in to Youth s enchanted land. 

An Eden-realm of honeyed streams, 

And shifting lights that touch and change, 

With crimson flecks and golden gleams, 
The landscape into something strange ; 


And gorgeous fabrics floating through 

The liquid sky into the west, 

And on the sunset s flaming breast, 
Like dying dolphins, changing hue ; 

And purple mornings, lit with gems, 

Capping the blooming hills with jeweled diadems. 

And falling waters waving down 

In snowy veils that break and spread 
In diamond showers, and lift a crown 

Of circling rainbows overhead ; 
And meadows golden-draperied, 

With lights and shadows woven in ; 

And fountains musical with din 
O:f laughing Naiads, faintly heard ; 

And sunny meres and groves and vales 

Where fauns and sylvans sport and breathe their evening tales. 

And tricksy fairies in the realm 

Weave mystic circles on the green, 
And dance beneath the aged elm 

In honor of their beauteous queen ; 
Or ring their tiny heather-bells, 

And sound their buo;le-horns until 


Swift echoes fly from hill to hill, 
And die along the winding dells ; 
Or flit athwart the moonlit skies 
On winged thistle-downs and silver fire-flies. 

And pleasures wed with rosy joys 

Forever mingle with the band 
Of winsome girls and gleesome boys 

That dwell within the charmed land ; 
And warbling music lulls to rest, 

While airy dreams and visions fine, 

Touched with a beauty half divine, 
Throng in upon the sinless breast ; 

And angels, hovering round the while, 

Kiss oft the dreamers lips and wreathe them with a smile. 
O happy land ! O happy days ! 

And happy dwellers, loved of God ! 
Along whose flowery paths and ways 

Celestial feet have often trod. 


Through misty years that gather fast, 
With weary toil and patience fraught, 
How oft I turn and feed my thought 

On golden echoes from the Past, 
And gaze until my eyes grow dim 
Where at the portals stand the flaming cherubim. 




Delivered in San Francisco, July 29, 1860, ~by Rev. T. 


FRESH impression of the marvels of nature 
always awakens a religious emotion. I thought 
of this more seriously than ever before, when, 
about two weeks ago, I first looked down from 
the Mariposa trail into the tremendous fissure 
of the Sierras. The place is fitly called Inspiration Point." 
The shock to the senses there, as one rides out from the 
level and sheltered forest, up to which our horses had been 
climbing two days, is scarcely less than if he had been 
instantly borne to a region where the Creator reveals more 
of himself in his works than can be learned from the ordi 
nary scenery of this world. We stood, almost without 
warning, on the summit of the southerly wall of the valley, 
and obtained our first impression of its depth and grandeur 
by looking down. A vast trench, cloven by Omnipotence 
amid a tumult of mountains, yawned beneath us. The 
length of it was seven or eight miles ; the sides of it were 
bare rock, and they were perpendicular. They did not 
flow or subside to the valley in charming curve-lines, such 
as I have seen in the wildest passes of the New England 
mountains. The walls were firm and sheer. A man could 
have found places where he could have jumped three thou 
sand feet in one descent to the valley. More than a thousand 
feet beneath us was the arching head of a waterfall, that 
leaped another thousand before its widening spray shat- 


tered itself into finer mists in a rocky dell. The roar of it 
was a slight murmur at our elevation. On the wall opposite, 
about a mile across the gulf, a brook was pouring itself to 
the valley. Although it was slipping down more than 
half a mile of undisturbed depth, it appeared to be creeping 
at its own will and leisure. We could not believe that the 
awful force of gravitation was controlling it. 

" But like a downward smoke, the slender stream 
Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem." 

Noble trees of two hundred feet stature, by the river-side 
below, were tiny shrubs. The river itself lay like a bow 
of glass upon the curved green meadow which nestled so 
peacefully under the shadow of the Egyptian walls. And 
off from the northernmost cliff, retreating a mile or two from 
it, soared a bare, wedge-like summit of one of the Sierras- 
ashy in hue, springing above a vast field of snow which 
could not cling to its steep smoothness, but lay quietly 
melting to feed the foam and music of a cataract. 

All this, no doubt, seems tame enough in the wording ; 
and even if a vivid picture of the actual scene could be 
given here by an adequate description, some of you might 
say that it is only a pile of rock overhanging a river-course 
not very remarkable, and certainly not religiously sug 

But I do not think that there was one in our party who 
had the feeling, when that surprising view first broke upon 
us, that he was looking merely upon a freak of natural 
forces, or a patch of chaos. I am sure we all felt that some 
thing more than matter was shown to us a clearer gleam of 
the Infinite Majesty. I believe that the impression was, in 
some degree, like that which the Israelites felt amid the 
passes of Sinai, when the Divine glory was on the mount. 
If the emotion which that first view excited could remain 
with us, I am sure that all life would be more reverent and 

And that is a large portion of the value of such impress 
ive wonders in nature. They break in, for a moment, if 
no more, upon our materialistic and skeptical estimate of the 


world, and show us that it is penetrated with Divine mean 
ing that it is an expression of Infinite power and thought. 
Unless we become atheists, we have no right to live unmoved 
and indifferent amid the processes of nature. Have you 
ever considered what the relation of the Divine mind is to a 
mighty cliff, to a sublime mountain, to a lovely landscape ? 
God creates it and renews it by tlie direct, immediate action 
of Ids conscious thought. We looked suddenly upon the 
grandeur of the Yosemite Valley, and perhaps a year s 
residence at that " Inspiration Point," might so exhaust our 
interest in it, as to make it uninspiring. It is not more than 
ten years since the first white man gazed upon those cliffs 
and ramparts. Yet how many thousands of centuries have 
they been fashioned under the Almighty hand ! Since the 
morning when Adam first looked upon the world, they have 
stood strong and venerable as now. And ages before the 
creation of the ancestral man, the processes were at work in 
that valley, hardening the rock, preparing the soil, varying 
the verdure, channeling the paths of the streams, that the 
picture which we looked upon might be finished. Think of 
the months of toil and the delicacies of technical skill in 
laying in the color, and adjusting the lights and perspective, 
which an artist sometimes expends upon one mimic land 
scape. And in comparison with that, remember that every 
great landscape, like the one I am speaking of, is a real 
picture which the Infinite Mind has been at work upon 
during immeasurable centuries. Every natural force is one 
of his pencils ; every variety of substance is one of his 
colors ; and every nice effect of grace or majesty has cost, 
perhaps, ten thousand years and all the resources of the 
natural world. Is it right, therefore, for us to take so little 
interest in the glories of nature ? ought we not to be far 
more frequently and deeply moved by them, when we 
reflect that God has cared for them during countless years ? 
If he had not been interested in the cliffs and pillars of 
that valley among the Sierras ages before we were born, and 
continuously interested in them ; if for one moment in all 
the stretch of time which geology reports on its huge dial, 
his care and thought had wandered from them, they would 


have dropped into nothingness. For of the Divine Wisdom 
it is written in the Proverbs: "AVhen he prepared the 
heavens, I was there : when he set a compass upon the face 
of the depth : when he established the clouds above : when 
he gave to the sea his decree that the waters should not 
pass his commandment : when he appointed the foundations 
of the earth : then I was by him, as one brought up with 
him : and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before 
him." This means that all outward order and beauty are 
copies in matter from an ideal picture first formed in the 
Divine Reason. It means, also, that he who is insensible to 
the wonders of nature is indiiferent to the patient and con 
tinuous art of God. 

When we pass down by the steep trail from the top of 
the wall into the valley, to its floor, and begin to examine 
its features in detail, the religious impressions become more 
varied and distinct. If there are any especially religious 
impressions to be gained at all by seeing majestic rock 
scenery, the Yosemite is the place to receive them most 
powerfully. For, so far as we know, it offers the most 
stupendous specimens of natural masonry to be seen on our 
globe. Switzerland has no gorge that compares with it. 
The pass of the Tete Noir, the ruggedness of the Yia Mala, 
the cliffs of the Splugen, the precipice over which the Staub- 
bach shakes itself into water- dust, can not compete with the 
walls and pinnacles of the Yosemite. The desolate and 
splintered walls of Sinai and Horeb are not a quarter so 
high. No explored district of the highest Andes displays 
such masses of clean, abrupt rock. The Himalayas alone 
can furnish competitors for its walls and turrets, if any 
portion of the earth can and I have no knowledge that 
they are able to. We often read, in accounts of mountain 
districts or mountain-climbing, about precipices that are 
thousands of feet in descent, or of cliffs that spring naked 
and sheer to an equal height. The statements, however, 
are almost always extravagant exaggerations. But in the 
Yosemite, a man may ride close to a crag, whose summit, 
as he holds his head back to discern it, is more than three 
thousand feet above him. He may stand in the spray of a 



waterfall and see, forty-three hundred feet over his head, 
the edge of a mountain-wall that shields the water from the 
early afternoon sun. He may look up to a tower, which 
resembles an incomplete spire of a gothic minster, and see 
its broken edges softened by more than three-quarters of a 
mile of distance directly above his eyes. He may sit at 
evening, when the sun has retreated from every portion of 
the valley, and look at the " South Dome," a vast globe of 
bald rock almost a full mile in height, while the sunset is 
sheathing it with impalpable gold. Or he may lie, at noon, 
beneath a tree at the base of one wall of the valley, and 
allow his eye to wander up at leisure the magnificent battle 
ment called " El Capitan." It is not so high as some of the 
others I have named, for it is a little less than four thousand 
feet. But there is not a crevice in it where any thing green 
can lodge and grow. There is no mark or line of stratifica 
tion. There is no crack in its huge mass. It is one piece 
of solid, savage granite, which seems to have sprung up 
over the flowing river and the fertile meadow, to show, by 
contrast, what the majesty of the Infinite is as compared 
with his beneficence, and how tremendous are the forces of 
cohesion that have compacted the bones of the globe. 

No one can look at such pinnacles and ramparts without 
a feeling of awe such as he has seldom experienced. And 
why is it?, Not simply because the rocks are so high and 
so massive. Not merely because so powerful an impression 
has been made on our senses, Many a bear has wound his 
way down those walls without feeling any sense of sublim 
ity. Many a deer, with eyesight keener than man s, has 
drunk from the calm pools of the river, and looked up to 
the crown of one of those proud crags without any emotion 
that interfered with the satisfaction of his thirst. It is only 
the senses of man that appreciate the majesty revealed in 
matter. And it is because they are connected with spiritual 
powers in us. Our senses are only tubes and lenses through 
which the mind and soul, through which an immortal fac 
ulty, looks out upon the world. And if they discern what 
the beasts can not detect, if their reach is so wide and high, 
if their objects are so grand and varied, what must the soul 


be to which they are vassals ? What is this inward em 
peror whose servants are kings \ Shall we believe in the 
senses, and not believe more reverently in the soul they 
honor, and which ennobles them ? Shall we use these mar 
velous ministers to which the grandeurs of space report, 
and not believe in the central and mysterious power that is 
educated by the material which these clerkly senses gather? 
Yea, shall we not care for the spirit which thrills the senses 
with their finest life, and overflows upon them its own 
divinity ? Shall we not learn that our inward nature is 
heaven-born from the greatness of our senses, and as it is 
set in commerce with God s works through its physical 
attributes, strive to guard it against evil, which abases the 
frame that is made for its present home, and keeps it from 
communion with God himself, who has opened other chan 
nels, in its own essence, for direct intercourse with his 

I believe that such questions ought to rise in every nature 
that receives a thrill of sublime and reverential emotion from 
such natural scenery as the Yosemite. God is patiently 
educating us here to a knowledge of what we are. And 
when any human being attains that knowledge, the soul 
must be religious, or must try to be. No person can learn 
why it is that he is capable of seeing something majestic, 
mysterious, sublime, in a wall of granite, without revering 
his nature after it, and feeling that he has a power within 
him which is a divine trust. It is because we are religious 
beings that we see in the mountains and the cliffs what the 
brutes that inhabit them can not see ; and if we go to the 
grandest scenery unprepared to receive stimulant to our 
religious nature from it, and return from the sight of natural 
wonders uninspired in our devout sensibilities, we lose the 
richest result which the natural magnificence was intended 
to produce in us, whatever physical refreshment and de 
light we may have gained, and whatever secular knowledge 
we may have reaped from the excursion. Our true sight 
seeing is accomplished, when the invisible things of Mm 
are clearly seen, being understood by the things which are 
made, even his eternal power and Godhead." 


This quotation just made from St. Paul leads me to speak 
of another point which the visit to the Yosemite has im 
pressed anew upon my mind the fertility and aptness of 
the illustrations which the Bible offers for the grandest 
natural scenery. The Bible displays some spiritual passage 
for every emergency of our religious discipline and need. 
This is one of the chief seals of its providential relations to 
the spiritual training of the world. But it is equally re 
markable that the most stirring scenes in nature, and even 
the sublimest discoveries of science, seem to wait for their 
fitting dress of description, until some verse from the old 
Hebrew seers starts out to offer its epithets and rhythm. 
He Avho goes into the most inspiring scenes of nature with 
out a familiar knowledge of the Bible, and readiness to 
quote it, loses one of the purest sources of pleasure at the 
moment, and one of the most valuable means of fixing in 
his memory and heart the character and influence of the 
scenes themselves. 

No man could fail to be deeply and religiously impressed 
witli the first view of the valley as I alluded to it, when 
one stands over it and looks down into its trench. There 
may be passages of secular poetry that can describe some 
effects of its perpendicular walls. But only a man familiar 
with the prophets could concentrate the whole grandeur 
and religious suggestiveness of the view by a quotation. 
And he would chant out at once the sublime verse from 
Zechariah : "And the feet of Jehovah shall stand in that 
day upon the Mount of Olives, which is before Jerusalem 
on the east, and the Mount of Olives shall cleave in the 
midst thereof, toward the east and toward the west, and 
there shall be a very great valley; and half of the mountain 
shall remove toward the north, and half of it toward the 
south. And ye shall flee to the valley of the mountains. 

Or suppose that standing on that height, over the yawning 
rent, a man should strive to picture to himself the earthquake 
forces that tore those cliffs apart, and opened a channel for 
the river so peacefully gliding and shining far below. What 
words could science give him, what passages from Buckland 
or Lyell, from Hugh Miller or Agassiz or Humboldt, that 


would compare for a moment with the burden and fervor 
of these mighty verses from Ilabakkuk ? " Jehovah stood 
and measured the earth ; and the everlasting mountains 
were scattered, the perpetual hills did bow : his ways are 
everlasting. I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction : and the 
curtains of the land of Midian did tremble. * * TJiou 
didst cleave the earth with rivers. The mountains saw thee 
and they trembled : the overflowing of the water passed 
by." Even the whiteness around the cones of the distant 
Sierras suggested the passage from Jeremiah " Will a man 
leave the snow of Lebanon which cometh from the rock of 
the field or shall the cold flowing waters that come from 
another place be forsaken ? * 

Sitting in the valley to enjoy from a distance the beauty 
of the waterfalls, or exploring their basins and their paths, 
a great number of exquisite poetic verses from the Prophets 
and Psalms sing themselves through the memory to the 
music of the cataracts. "He watereth the hills from his 
chambers : the earth is satisfied with the fruit of his works." 
"The floods, O Lord, have lifted up their voice. The Lord 
on high is mightier than the voice of many waters." "And 
there shall be upon every high mountain and upon every 
high hill, rivers and streams of water." 

But what words shall describe the beauty of one of the 
waterfalls as we see it plunging from the brow of a cliff 
nearly three thousand feet high, and clearing fifteen hun 
dred feet in one leap ? It is comparatively narrow at the 
top of the precipice ; but it widens as it descends, and 
curves a little as it widens, so that it shapes itself before it 
reaches its first bowl of granite into the charming figure 
of the comet that glowed on our sky two years ago. . But, 
more beautiful than the comet, you can see the substance 
of this watery loveliness ever renew itself, and ever pour 
itself away. And all over its- white and swaying mistiness, 
which now and then swings along the mountain side, at the 
persuasion of the wind, like a pendulum of lace, and now 
and then is whirled round and round by some eddying 
breeze, as though the gust meant to see if it could wring it 
dry ; all over its surface, as it falls, are shooting rockets 


of water, which, spend themselves by the time they half 
reach the "bottom, and then re-form for the remaining descent 
thus fascinating the gazer so that he could lie for hours 
never tired, but ever hungry for more of the exquisite 
witchery of liquid motion and grace. It is as the Prophet 
said : " The mountains and the hills shall break forth before 
you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their 

And when, in the afternoon, we follow to the very base 
of one of these cataracts, and stand amid the spray that is 
smitten into rainbows, which dazzle the senses as if the 
most startling wonders of fairy landscape had been realized 
around us, it is no secular language or verse that will utter 
the strange joy the rapture of sight, of which the soul is 
conscious. As we think of the service which the snow-fed 
streams discharge to the thirsty lowlands, toward which, 
from their lofty home, they leap in music, and as we re 
member that they never fail, though men are ungrateful and 
callous in heart to the Infinite beneficence, it is the prophet s 
words which the flaming spray seems to chant through its 
splendor "How great is his goodness, and how great is 
his beauty !" And the verse of the Psalm rises also to com 
plete the lesson of the glorious hour: "Out of Zion, the 
perfection of beauty, God hath shined." 

These visible wonders in the material world which we 
catch through the senses, are intended, I believe, to arouse 
our attention so that we shall think more of the wonders 
that encircle or curtain us which the senses can not grasp. 

One of the sublimest passages in the book of Exodus 
marred in our Bible by inaccurate rendering is that in 
which Moses begs for a clearer vision of the Divine glory 
than his eyes had yet beheld. "But God said, thou 
canst not see my face ; for there shall no man see me and 
live. And the Lord said, Behold there is a place by 
me, and thou shalt stand upon a rock. And it shall 
come to pass, while my glory passeth by, that I will 
put thee in a cleft of the rock, and will cover thee with 
my hand while I pass by. And I will take away my 
hand, and thou shalt see what passes after me the train 


of my effects ; but my face shall not be seen." Now God 
offers to lift every one of you, by a little study and 
thought on your part, to a point of observation, from 
which you can discern the vast train of his effects in the 
physical universe. 

How little we see of nature ! How utterly powerless are 
our senses to take any measure or impression of the actual 
grandeur of what we do see ! Think of being moved 
religiously by looking at a pinnacle or bluff four thousand 
feet high, and then think what the earth contains which 
might move us ! What if one of the Himalayas could be 
cloven from its topmost tile of ice to its torrid base, so that 
we could look up a sheer wall of twenty-eight thousand 
feet, the equator at the bottom, and at the apex perpetual 
polar frost ! And then think that the loftiest Himalaya is 
only a slight excrescence on the planet ! What if we could 
have a vision, for a moment, of the earth s diameter, from a 
point where we could look each way along all its strata and 
its core of fire, in lines each four thousand miles in their 
stretch ? And then, remember, that this is nothing this is 
not a unit-inch toward measuring the diameter of the 
earth s orbit, and that earth and orbit both are invisible 
and undreamed of from the Pole Star or Sirius, which is 
the apex of a reach of space that we can write in figures, 
but which we could not have counted off yet, if we had 
begun six thousand years ago, and given each second to a 
mile ! Or what if we could turn from delight at seeing a 
waterfall of fifteen hundred feet, which looks like the tail 
of a comet, and could get a sensuous impression of the 
actual trail of that light upon the sky, a cataract of lumin 
ous spray, steady and true, a hundred and twenty millions 
of miles in extent, more than the distance between us and 
the sun \ And yet this is but one spot upon the dark 
immensity ! 

God is creating and sustaining these splendors every 
instant. They are all present to his vision incessantly, and 
are embraced in his perpetual providence. "He telleth 
the number of the stars: He calleth them all by their 


" Oh, what magnificence must glow 
Great God, about thy throne ! 
So brilliant here these drops of light 
There the full ocean rolls how bright !" 

Perhaps the spirits of higher worlds are endowed to see 
and appreciate these larger proportioned marvels. Per 
haps our senses here are prepared to fit our souls to take a 
wider out-look over the Creator s glories when we drop the 
robe of flesh. That is, if we do not abuse our privilege 
here, and come under the dominion of evil. And that may 
be one of the heaviest penalties of evil when you drop the 
flesh, and of unfaithfulness to high thoughts and studies 
here incapacity to appreciate and adore the revelations of 
the Infinite Mind in the scale and splendors of the universe. 
Ought you not, I ask you, in a world which the Creator so 
adorns, and so surrounds with wonder, to try to ennoble 
your life, and prepare for the mysterious future of your 
being, by thinking more of the scene that embosoms you, 
and the mysteries so solemn and so glorious, amid which 
you dwell ? Do you live in such a world as you know this 
is, without reverence, without awe, without pulsations of 
worship, without prayer, without devout gladness, without 

The great Hebrew poet said: "From the end of the 
earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed : 
lead me to the rock that is higher than I." Here is the 
point where our too rambling meditation must rest, and 
find its practical impressiveness and force. To an Eastern 
soul, full of piety and aspiration, a great rock suggested 
God and the soul s rest in God. In the hot East, during 
the parching summer, when vegetation shriveled, a rock 
on the plains, especially on the desert, gave shadow and 
coolness. It was the traveler s only shelter from the fierce, 
unclouded sun. We found in the Yosemite valley that it 
was delightful in the hot July afternoon, when the mighty 
ramparts of the meadows barred the sun s rays, and en 
abled us to ride or walk in the shade. Then I thought of 
the verse I have taken for the text, and of those words of 
Isaiah, "The shadow of a great rock in a weary land." 


And then I thought of how desolate human life is your 
life, my friend, whatever earthly good you may possess 
if you have no grand religious scenery in the s^ul if God 
is not a rock of defense and shadow to you amid the perils 
and trials of this world. So many of us there are who have 
no majestic landscapes for the lieart no grandeurs in the 
inner life ! We live on the flats. We live in a moral country, 
which is dry, droughty, barren. We look up to no heights 
whence shadow falls and streams flow singing. We have 
no great hopes. We have no sense of Infinite guard and 
care. We have no sacred and cleansing fears. We have 
no consciousness of Divine, All-enfolding Love. We may 
make an outward visit to the Sierras, but there are no 
Yosemites in the soul. 

Is your life described thus? If you have no religious 
joys or aspirations no confidence in times when truth is 
in peril, that God lives to watch and protect it ; no sweet 
hopes in your adversity born of the feeling that God is still 
near you ; no disposition to trust one infinitely great and 
good, whose love is reflected in the heart of Christ, when 
your sweetest blessings are snatched away by death ; no 
Sacred Presence over-shadowing you, to whom it is a relief 
to pray ; your life is described thus, and it is a poor, 
pinched, meager, unfurnished, joyless existence you are 
leading. You are away from truth, from Christ, from 
your Father. I beseech you not I, but the subject, the 
Bible, the Holy Spirit, your own soul beseeches you to 
seek a nobler life, to find God as a Rock in your landscape 
by his power, a stream in your soul by his grace. You 
can find him thus. More easily than you can go to Yose- 
mite, you can go to God. You can live nobly without see 
ing the crowning wonder of this State ; but you can not 
live without God as your fortress and defense and strong 
tower. And if you fail to seek him in your days of 
strength and opportunity, the season will surely come, 
when, from the end of the earth, while your heart is over 
whelmed, you will cry, "Lead me to the rock that is 
higher than I." 



URING the Mission epoch, from 1770 to 1833, 
a vast amount of valuable labor was expended 
by the Padres in the formation of irrigating 
canals, or zany as, and the constructing of expen 
sive reservoirs and aqueducts, which last were 
"built of stone and cement, as well as of brick. These exten 
sive operations were carried on by the aid of Indians near by, 
and they abound in every .Mission district in South Coast 
California. With the outlay of a few thousand dollars in 
the vicinity of each Mission, they could be made available 
for agricultural purposes next year. The following account 
of their status in Santa Barbara, from A. Jansen, the County 
Assessor, an old resident since 1833, and well acquainted 
with these matters, will show how the four Mission districts 
of that county stand in 1866 ; Zanja of Kamules and Pirru, 
five miles long ; Zanja of San Cajetane, six miles long ; 
Zanja of Santa Paulo, five miles long. These are in the 
extensive valley of Saticoy or Santa Clara River, which is 
some eight miles below Buenaventura Mission, and formerly 
pertained to that establishment. In the valley or Great 
Canada which opens to the sea at Buenaventura Mission, 
there was the Zanja Santa Gertrude, of six miles ; the Zanja 
Sari Martin, of four miles ; the Zanja of San Miguel, of eight 
miles ; another opposite the last, of five miles ; and in 
another part of the Canada, one of 2, 000 yards. To these were 
attached aqueducts and reservoirs built of lime and stone, 
which would now cost not less than $40,000 ; and it is as 
serted by mechanics that they could be again set in operation 
for the sum of $2,000. 

The works to supply the Mission and the lands near the 
town formerly cultivated by the Indians, were of greater 
extent than any other establishment in the south, except 
San Gabriel and San Luis Rey. There are three immense 
reservoirs two or three miles above the Mission, which are 
capable of holding millions of gallons of water, besides 


several smaller ones, all of which are connected with the 
gardens of the Mission by zanjas of stone. All these works 
are substantially built of cement, brick, and rock, and at 
present would probably cost $100,000 to construct. They 
could all be made efficient at an expense of some $4,000, and 
would then be sufficient to supply the whole population of 
San Barbara town, in house and field. During the rebuild 
ing of the church of the parish in the summer of 1866, the 
zanjas of the Mission were slightly repaired, and the water 
brought down for half a mile to near the court-house, for 
the making of adobes, which shows they are easily repaired 
for more important labors. These improvements could be 
easily leased from the Mission for a term of years at an 
annual rental of a few hundred dollars. The Mission Indians 
also dug some 12 or 15 miles of irrigating ditches on and 
near the Goleta Ranch, before 1830, which is nine miles off 
The aqueducts of the Mission also irrigated several hundred 
acres of land in its immediate vicinity. 

The works at the Mission of Santa Inez are quite exten 
sive, and consist of aqueducts, reservoirs, and cisterns, well 
built of brick, &c., standing the present cost of which 
would exceed $50,000. They supplied from mountain 
streams about thirty miles of zanjas, which enabled the old 
priests to fully supply all the wheat, corn, barley, beans, 
fruits, and other crops necessary for the consumption of the 
Mission population. An American rancher in the vicinity 
assures us that $1,000 would put these works in good repair, 
as there is an abundance of water near by. This Mission 
had several fine pieces of valley land near by, which, 
though now only used for pasture, could be made with the 
old canals to raise large crops. The padres even established 
a flour-mill near the Mission, with a canal from the waters 
of the Arroyo Sankacotta, about 1825, and supplied them 
selves for several years independent of the Mission. 

The neighboring Mission of La Purisima, some twenty 
miles off, had three large reservoirs and cisterns of mason 
work, besides other improvements of like character, which 
enabled the Padres to cultivate large portions of land of no 
use without such appliances, except for pasture. These 


works are still in tolerable condition, and a few hundred 
dollars spent in repairs would utilize them all. All these 
irrigating canals of the Missions were trenches dug in the 
soil, something after the manner of our present mining 
ditches ; and from the account of the Assessor, they amount 
ed to about 100 miles in linear length in the county, which 
includes about thirty miles made on the ranches since 1830. 
Want of space prevents a further detail of the valuable 
statistics on this important matter in the office of the 

Taking the above four Mission districts at 100 miles of 
the ante 1833 irrigating ditches, we should have, allowing 
for all errors, about 700 lineal miles of similar improvements 
in the remaining nine Missions between San Juan North 
and San Diego. If these works were again put in repair, 
with American improvements, they could again be made to 
defy the seasons and benefit three or four millions of acres 
of land, and make the southern counties the garden of 
North America. The fourteen miles zanja made by Ban 
ning from Los Angeles to San Pedro in 1864, has had a 
most beneficial influence on the prospects of that county. 
Cor. S. F. Bulletin, Oct. 17, 1866. 


:ENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT, the discoverer of 
the source of the Mississippi, and the author of 
a number of standard works on the Indianology 
of America, died in Washington, at the advanced 
age of 71 years. Mingling with the Western 
tribes to some extent during a period of thirty years, his 
life was a romance which, could it but be written, would 
be scarcely less interesting than the numerous works he has 
left behind him as lasting monuments of his industry and 
love of adventure. He was born in Albany, N. Y., in 
1793, and was educated at Middlebury College. His father 
was the superintendent of a glass factory at Cheshire, Mass., 


and be applied himself to the art of glass-making, and in 
1816 commenced the publication of a work on " Vitreology," 
which was never completed. The following year he paid a 
visit to the West, and published U A View of the Lead 
Mines of Missouri," and a record of his travels, under the 
title of "Scenes and Adventures in the semi- Alpine Regions 
of the Ozark Mountains of Missouri and Arkansas." In 
1820 he was appointed geologist to an expedition under 
General Cass to the copper region of Lake Superior and the 
upper Mississippi, of which he published an account in 
1821. In the course of the same year he was appointed 
Secretary of the Indian Commission at Chicago, and having 
traveled through Illinois and along the Wabash and Miami 
rivers, published a book of "Travels in the Central 
Portions of the Mississippi Valley " In 1822, having re 
ceived the appointment of Indian Agent on the Northwestern 
frontier, he took up his residence at Sault St. Marie, near 
Lake Superior, and afterward at Macherian, on Lake Huron, 
and married the grand-daughter of a celebrated Indian 
chief, Miss Johnston, a lady of remarkable beauty and 
worth, who had been educated in Europe, and no less dis 
tinguished for her intelligence and culture than her personal 
attractions. From that time Mr. Schoolcraft became a dili 
gent and successful student of Indian ethnology, poetry, and 
history. From 1828 to 1832 he was a member of the Legis 
lature of Michigan, then a territory ; in the former year he 
founded the Michigan Historical Society, and in 1831 the 
Algic Society at Detroit ; two of his lectures before which, 
on the grammatic construction of the Indian languages, 
were translated by Mr. Duponcian into French, and received 
a gold medal from the Institute. At this period of his life 
he published several poems, lectures, and reports on Indian 
subjects, and a grammar of the Algonquin language. In 
1832, he was appointed to conduct a second Government 
expedition, and was the first to discover the source of the 
Mississippi, of which he published an account in 1834. 
Two years after, having been commissioned to treat with 
tribes on the Upper Lakes, he procured from them the 
cession of 3 6, 000, 000 acres of land to the United States. 


After acting for several years as Superintendent of Indian 
Affairs, and Chief Disbursing Agent for the Northern Depart 
ment, he removed to New York in 1841, visited Europe in 
1842, and in 1845 was appointed by the State Legislature to 
make a census of the Six Nations, which was published in 
184S, under the title of "Notes on the Iroquois." In 1847, 
under an appointment by the United States Secretary of War, 
he engaged in the preparation of a work on the Indians, of 
which six quarto volumes have appeared, entitled "His 
torical and Statistical Information respecting the History, 
Condition, arid Prospects of the Indian Tribes of the United 
States." In addition to the publication already named, 
Mr. Schoolcraft was the author of a great variety of works 
on the Indians, the most important of which was his "Algic 
Researches." In 1847 he was married again to a lady of 
South Carolina, since which time he resided in the city of 
Washington. Mr. Schoolcraft was an indefatigable explorer 
of American antiquities, in which branch of investigation he 
was an original pioneer, and his voluminous writings will 
long be consulted as leading authorities on whatever pertains 
to Indian character and manners. Virginia (Nevada) Ter 
ritorial Enterprise. 


COMMENCING near Harswar, where the River 
Ganges debouches from the Himalayan Moun 
tains, an arm of that stream is occupied as 
a feeder, and is crossed by a masonry dam, 
having 380 feet of sluice openings, and flank 
overfalls of such length as to give 517 feet of clear 
passage for floods in the river. The head works of the 
canal consist of a regulation bridge, of 200 feet water way, 
in ten openings of 20 feet each, and connected with the 
dam by a long line of masonry revetment. In the first 
25 miles the canal meets with numerous difficulties, in 
crossing streams which drain the sub-Himalayas. Among 


these are three rivers of considerable size two of which, 
with subordinate streams, are admitted in the canal (a pro 
ceeding which seems to me to be of questionable propriety 
in a work of such magnitude, extent, and cost). The canal, 
however, is provided with dams, sluices, and overfalls for 
the escape of surplus waters, and regulating bridges to 
prevent damage to the canal by the floods of these rivers. 
Passing through a high ridge of land for two miles, with a 
maximum cut of 37 feet, overcoming the fall in the country 
and canal by a costly dam of masonry, and providing for 
navigation by an independent canal one mile in length, and 
its necessary locks, it crosses the valley of a river nearly 
two and a quarter miles in width, upon an embankment 
averaging 16| feet in height at the bottom of the canal, with 
base of 350 feet, and top (which is "bottom of the canal") 
272 feet wide. Upon this platform is built a canal to carry 
a depth of ten feet of water, and to pass 6,750 cubic feet of 
water per second. The canal has a uniform width on bot 
tom of 140 feet, and water surface 170 feet wide, for the 
first 50 miles, with banks 12 feet high, 30 feet wide on top, 
and slopes generally one and one-half base to one foot rise. 
Over the great valley and embankment just described, the 
interior slopes are protected by retaining walls of masonry. 
This embankment is connected at one end with an aqueduct 
of masonry which is, in itself, one of the greatest works of 
our day. It is 920 feet long, 192 feet wide, has 15 arches of 
50 feet span, five feet depth, and eight feet rise. The piers, 
which are ten feet thick at springing line, and twelve and a 
half feet high above the river, rest upon masonry founda 
tions 20 feet thick, sunk 20 feet into the bed of the river, 
and completely secured. The side walls are each eight feet 
thick and twelve feet high. The water-way is divided into 
two channels, each 85 feet wideband separated by a ma 
sonry wall six feet thick. The whole rises to the height of 
37 feet above the river. A continuation of earth embank 
ment connects the whole with high grounds. This aqueduct 
and high embanked canal, lined throughout with masonry, 
together are nearly three miles in length, and the cost of 
their construction was very great. After passing this valley 


the canal is upon ground favorable to economical construc 
tion. At 50 miles from the head it throws out the first great 
branch, which is 150 miles long, and discharges 1,240 cubic 
feet of water per second. The main stem is now reduced to 
130 feet width on bottom and depth of nine feet water, which 
it carries to its second branch, which has a length of 70 
miles and a discharge of 520 cubic feet per second. Here 
the main stem is again reduced to a width on bottom of 108 
feet, but retains its depth of nine feet of water. The third 
branch is 172 miles long, and has a discharge of 1,336 cubic 
feet of water per second. At the point where this branch 
leaves the main stem the latter is reduced to 90 feet on bot 
tom, with seven and a half feet depth of water. At the 250th 
mile it is again reduced in width, being 80 feet wide on bot 
tom, and having seven feet depth of water. The fourth 
great branch is intended for a connecting line, and for navi 
gation between the canal and the River Ganges. Its length 
is 43 miles, and its capacity of discharge is 635 cubic feet 
of water per second. At its intersection with the main 
trunk the latter is reduced to 75 feet of bottom width, with 
six feet depth of water. At the terminus of the canal, 453 
miles from the head, the width of bottom is 25 feet, and 
depth of water four feet. 

The total length of the canal and its four main branches 
is 898|- miles. Each of the branches which I have named, 
as well as the main trunk, is a canal of navigation as well 
as irrigation ; and each throws out great numbers of subor 
dinate branches, which, in their turn, send off countless 
streams to distribute the waters. Every few miles bridges 
are provided for crossing ; and at all suitable points the 
necessary appliances for using the water for power are pro 
vided. Plantations and orchards of timber and fruit trees 
were planted along the works. Every care has been taken 
to provide for the most economical and effective use of the 
water, and for the comfort, health, and prosperity of the 
native population who are to use it. 

The area of cultivable land which is within the reach of 
these routes exceeds 11,102,000 acres, and contains a popu 
lation of six and a half millions of souls. The capacity of 


the canal is estimated to be equal to the irrigation of nearly 
1,500,000 acres yearly, as they irrigate in India. And as 
the practice there is generally to irrigate one year and rest 
in fallow two y ears, the large quantity of four and a half 
millions of acres may be prepared for and be watered from 
the canals of the Ganges every three years. And as the 
practice of irrigating from wells still continues, and amounts 
to about one-fourth or one-fifth of the whole, the quantity so 
irrigated will amount to about 1,000,000 acres, and the total 
watered area, within the reach of the Ganges canal, about 
5,500,000 acres, or nearly one-half of the whole irrigable 
district. The value of the increased productions from the 
lands irrigated by the Ganges canal is estimated already at 
six millions of dollars annually a sum nearly equal to the 
total capital invested in the canal. 

The direct returns in the way of water-rents, tolls, &c., 
on their extensive canals, pay the Government very well 
for the investment. The indirect benefits, in the way of 
public lands reclaimed, and revenues increased upon an 
average of from 30 to 40 ($150 to $200) per square mile per 
annum, swell the returns to the Government, in some cases, 
as high as 36 per cent, per annum, with prospects of in 
crease. The essential benefits, however, accrue to the 
natives who employ the waters, by which they have been 
already saved from famine. To them they are of inestimable 

By means of these beneficent works of the British Govern 
ment, about twelve millions of inhabitants, dependent upon 
agriculture in India, receive constant employment, and are 
relieved from the danger of famine, which formerly visited 
them ; produce, which can not be valued at less than fifty 
millions of dollars per annum, is placed beyond the con 
tingencies of season ; and public revenue, amounting to 
about fifteen millions of dollars yearly, is permanently 
protected from fluctuation in orninary times, and from 
annihilation during extraordinary ones. 

The great value of these canals to India may be illustrated 
by the known effects of one of them within the last half 
century. The great canals of the Jumna, in the revolution 


which disorganized the Mogul Empire, were almost de 
stroyednearly obliterated. Irrigation from them had been 
extinct for upward of seventy years upon some, and upward 
of a century upon others, when the English undertook their 
restoration. Those who had used them had disappeared, 
and three or four generations of their descendants had re 
sorted to the use of water from wells. When the canals 
were reopened in 1820, their use was a novelty, and the 
semi-barbarous people were so slow to avail themselves of 
the benefits of the water, that thirteen years passed off 
without any very great use being made of it. The season of 
1833-34, one of partial famine, taught them its value ; and 
that of 1837-38, the great famine year, extended its use so 
far that upon the western Jumna canal produce to the 
value of more than 7,000,000 was saved from utter loss, the 
inhabitants of five hundred villages were saved from devas 
tating famine, and the returns to the Government for that 
one year, about three-quarters of a million dollars, exceeded 
by more than $130,000 the cost of rebuilding the canal. 
Upon the eastern Jumna canal results were similar, though 
the returns were not in the same proportion to the outlay. 
The fostering care of the Government, which extended itself 
even to the Eastern appreciation of the luxury of shade and 
fruit, has not been without its reward upon these canals. 
An expenditure for plantations, of about $25,000, has 
already returned to it more than double that sum, in the 
sale of timber, and the value of the trees remaining is esti 
mated at fifteen times the outlay. 

Although some of the amounts aboved stated are very 
large, the values may seem very small when measured by 
California prices. The California!! should bear in mind that 
the price of a day s labor in India is about five cents. The 
great bulk of its agricultural products the food of its poor 
and crowded population must have a price, at home, cor 
responding with that of its labor. 

India is subject to great droughts, and its dense population 
have frequently been afflicted by famine. It may be said 
to be dependent upon irrigation, for which it has two seasons 
and two classes of crops. The season of rains is the sum- 


mer of dry and cold, the winter. In the first, the chief 
crops are sugar, cotton, indigo, &c. ; in the second, wheat, 
barley, &c. all of which are not only largely increased, 
both in quantity and quality, by the free use of water, but 
are placed beyond the danger of utter loss by excessive 

in Sacramento Union, April, 1866. 


tHOSE who have never visited Shasta Valley, 
can have but little idea of the sublimity of 
mountain scenery in California. There it lies, 
remote and isolated, a little world of solitary 
wonders. This lovely valley, in which is 
situated the comely little city of Yreka, is 
about eighty miles in extent, and varies from five to thirty 
miles in width. There is probably no spot upon the round 
earth which contains so many natural attractions for the 
man of science, the artist, the husbandman, the poet, and 
speculator, as this wonderful valley. The valley itself is a 
vast fertile prairie, dotted at picturesque intervals with 
groves of sturdy pines and "broad brown oaks. * Here 
and there the level plain is relieved by pretty natural 
mounds, which vary in altitude from twenty to two hun 
dred feet. On the east, the valley is bounded by a lofty 
spur of the Sierra Nevada, while high, high above all, the 
cloud-piercing Shasta Butte rears his snow-crowned summit 
to the skies. One cold, frosty night, in the winter of 18o4, 
we witnessed a phenomenon in Shasta Valley, the like of 
which may never be seen again. Our attention was first 
attracted to the summit of the Butte, above which a cone 
of isolated clouds had gathered, as if for the purpose of 
piling the dizzy peak still higher up in the heavens. Every 
where else the sky was perfectly cloudless, and the moon 
was shining in all her mountain effulgence. Suddenly a 



sliot athwart the heavens from south to 

broad, black zone 
north, and remained fixed and motionless for the space of 
full two hours. This singular belt was apparently as black 
as jot, and yet the stars shone more brightly in its center 
than anywhere else. 


Presently the moon entered this ebon zone, and the tran 
scendent miracle of beauty which it presented surpassed, 
probably, any celestial glory which mortal ever beheld. 
When the planet reached the center of the dark belt, it 
became completely surrounded by a halo of brilliant rings, 
each varying in vividness, but all containing the prismatic 
hues of the rainbow. Placermlle Index, December, 1862. 



OTZEBUE arrived from Sitka, in the San Fran 
cisco Bay, on the 2oth of September, 1824. 
Being then anchored with his vessel opposite 
the Presidio, he remarks: "The California 
wintei having now (last week in September) 
fairly set in, we had much rain and frequent 
storms. On the 9th of October the southwest wind blew 
with the violence of the West India tornado, rooted up the 
strongest trees, tore off the roofs of the houses and occa 
sioned great devastation in the cultivated land. One of our 
thickest cables broke, and if the second had given way we 
should have been driven on the rocky shore of the channel 
(the Golden Gate) which unites the bay with the sea, where 
a powerful current, struggling with the tempest, produced 
a frightful surf. Fortunately, the extreme violence of the 
storm lasted only a few hours, but in that short time it 
caused a destructive inundation. The water spread so 
rapidly over the lowlands where we were bivouacked, that 
we had scarcely time to leave our tents and astronomical 
instruments. On comparing afterward the time of day at 
St. Petersburg and San Francisco, by means of difference 
of longitude, it appears from recorded observations that the 
tremendous inundation which occurred at St. Petersburg 
took place not only on the same day, October 9, but even 
began in the same hour as that we witnessed in California. 
In the Sandwich Islands the storm raged with similar fury 
at the same time as it did also farther west, at the Philippine 
Islands, where it was accompanied by an earthquake. In 
the Bay of Manila the storm was so violent that a French 
corvette, under Captain Bougainville, son of the celebrated 
navigator, was entirely dismasted a fact related to us at 
the Islands, and afterward verified by us at Manila. The 
hurricane, therefore, raged at the same time over the greatest 
part of the northern hemisphere. The causes which pro 
duced it may have possibly originated beyond our atmos- 


phere." Fearing a return of similar storms, Kotzebue ob 
serves : "We took advantage of fine weather on the follow 
ing day to sail farther eastward into a little bay, and which 
is a perfectly safe anchorage at all seasons, surrounded by 
a romantic landscape, where Vancouver formerly lay (1792), 
called by the Spaniards Yerba Buena, after a sweet smell 
ing herb common there." 

Kotzebue was anchored in the Bay of San Francisco from 
the 2oth of September to the 25th of November, at which 
date he took his departure for the Sandwich Islands. 
During his stay he made a journey in the first week of 
October to the Russian settlement of Ross, overland, by 
the way of San Rafael, and represents the intervening 
country as presenting a highly verdant appearance, and 
everywhere covered with a luxuriant growth of green grass. 
He returned by the 9th of October, and remarks that lie 
experienced the finest weather after the great storm until 
the 18th of November. At this last date he started on an 
expedition up the bay, and appears to have reached, by the 
twenty-first, a point near or in the Sacramento River, which 
he locates in latitude 38 deg. 27 min., longitude 122 deg. 
10 min., of Greenwich. From the latest American authori 
ties used in "Bancroft s Hand-Book for 1864," Sacramento 
city is placed in latitude 38 deg., 34 min., 1 sec., longitude 
121 deg., 27 min., 44 sec. This is only a difference, on the 
parallel, of say seven miles (7 min., 12 sec.), from Suiter s 
old embarcadero, and probably present improved instru 
ments would have made his exact position near the levee 
of the 1866 City of the Plains. So that the Russian navi 
gator, in 1824, was the first person who scientifically located 
any point of the Great Valley of California, between Shasta 
and the Tejon. In his trip he mentions the abundance of 
all kinds of four footed and feathered game, of which, from 
their tameness, his party slaughtered a large number, and 
returned in their boats to the ship on the twenty-third, after 
a five days trip, loaded with deer, elk, ducks, geese, &c. 

Near the place where he locates the Pescadores (salmon 
fisheries?) he says the immense plains were carpeted with 
the finest verdure as far as the eye could see, and the great 


range " of the Sierra Nevada, forty miles off," is covered 
from north to south "with ice and snow half-way down " to 
the lower hills. The verdancy and luxuriance of the pas 
tures is also noticed in a previous trip he made to Santa 
Clara Mission as early as the 28th of September, a few days 
after his arrival from Sitka, so that this season is proved to 
have been one of the most forward on record, Kotzebue s 
accounts being the most valuable, as those of the country 
are handed down by tradition or now obtainable from 
memory of the ancient natives and the few first foreign 
settlers ante 1826. 

On the 25th of November, he remarks, we towed out of 
the bay with a northwest wind, which here "regularly 
brings fine weather." This last, however, is not the case 
since 1849. The sea was still so much agitated by the recent 
southwest storms that it rolled such immense billows into 
the channel, which unites with the bay (the Golden Gate), 
as to threaten his ship, the Enterprise, with destruction by 
being dashed against those walls of sea- water by the force 
of the current from the channel the vessel refusing to obey 
her helm. It is advisable, he thoughtfully notes, not to 
attempt sailing out in these seasons until the channel is 
tranquil, after blowing several days from the northwest a 
precaution which we well know the value of since 1850. 
Correspondent S. F. Bulletin. 


THE steamer San Francisco, bound for this port, with 
United States troops on board, foundered at sea January 
5th, 1854. The gale continued with more or less violence 
until the 31st of December, during which time two hundred 
and forty of the seven hundred human beings on board 
were swept from its decks and perished in the sea ; among 
them, as persons of rank, were Colonel John M. Washing 
ton, Major Geo. Taylor, Captain H. B. Field, and Lieuten 
ant R. II. Smith. The rest were rescued by the ship Three 
Bells, the bark Kilby, and the Antarctic. S. F. Mirror, 
July 10, 1860. 



EAR the close of the year 1857, an old Indian 
chief, of the Cahuilla tribe, residing with Mr. 
Sexton, of San Gabriel, became sick, and felt 
himself dying. There was a secret on his mind 
which he wished to reveal to the man who had 
showed him so much kindness ; he feared to do so, however, 
as it had been trusted to his faithful guardianship, and yet 
he felt it would eventually become known through the pry 
ing curiosity of the white man, who was penetrating every 
portion of the country, and from whom no secret could be 
much longer kept. Arguing thus with himself, and being 
anxious to benefit his friend by imparting to him the secret, 
he consulted his "medicine man," who was in attendance 
on him, but whose simples were now unavailing ; meeting 
at first with opposition from this counselor, he had to over 
come his scruples, but finally obtained his consent to com 
ply with his orders, when he should pass away to the land 
of spirits. Having thus conciliated his counselor, he called 
to his side his generous friend Sexton, and informed him 
that as he was about to die, he wished to communicate to 
him a secret which would be the means of making him a 
rich man. He then informed him that he had given orders 
to his medicine man to conduct Sexton to the place where 
they obtained their medicine, saying that though only used 
by them as a medicine, he knew that the rock contained 
precious metal, and that he wished him to have the benefit 
of the knowledge of its existence, satisfied that the Ameri 
cans would soon find out what it was, and its value. He 
was the last of his name and family, and there were none 
to whom his obligation bound him to transmit his long- 
cherished secret. 

Accordingly, after the death of the old chief, Mr. Sexton, 
taking with him Mr. F. M. Slaughter, set out, with his 
Indian guide, to find the place where the medicine was ob- 


tained. The Indian made his way to Temescal, then bore 
off to the mountains, and finally came to the base of Cajalco 
Hill. On reaching this place, the Indian seemed to be ter 
ribly exercised. Standing apart from his companions, he 
commenced uttering some strange sounds ; shortly, he broke 
out into a sort of chant or lamentation ; then he became 
agitated, his cries became louder and loader, his body be 
came distorted, and, swaying to and fro, he fell to the earth. 
This he repeated. He then spread out his hands toward the 
east, then toward the west, and, in a moment, started off in 
a run up the hill in a straight line to a hole which was dug 
in the earth. Arriving at this, he went through pretty much 
the same gyrations and contortions ; then he beckoned to 
the white men to come up pointing to the hole as the 
medicine-hole. On being opened, it was found to be a 
mineral vein, and on being tested it proved to be tin. That 
lead is called "The Medicine Lead," on Cajalco Hill ; and 
that is the manner in which a knowledge of its existence 
was brought to light. The " medicine obtained from the 
rock was the oxide of copper. Los Angeles Star, August, 


THE following poem, written by Ina D. Coolbrith, was 
read in San Francisco on the occasion of the celebration of 
the eighteenth anniversary of the admission of California 
into the Union, September 9, 1868 : 

Little the goodly Fathers, 

Building their Missions rude, 
By the lone, untraversed. waters, 

In the Western solitude, 

Dreamed of the wonderful city 

That looks on the stately bay, 
Where the bannered ships of the nations 

Float in their pride to-day ; 



Dreamed of the beautiful city, 
Proud on her tawny height, 

And strange as a flower up-springing 
To bloom in a single night ; 

For lo ! but a moment lifting 
The veil of the years away, 

We look on a well known picture, 
That seems but as yesterday. 


The mist rolls in at the Gateway, 
Where never a fortress stands, 

O er the blossoms of Saucelito 
And Yerba Buena s sands, 

Swathing the shores where only 
The sea-birds come and pass, 

And drifts with the drifting waters 
By desolate Alcatraz. 


We hear when night drops downward, 

And the bay throbs under the stars, 
The ocean-voices blending 

With ripple of soft guitars, 

With chiming bells of the Mission, 

With passionate minors sung, 
Or a quaint Castilian ballad 

Trilled in the Spanish tongue. 

Fair from thy hills, O city, 

Look on the beautiful bay ! 
Prouder far is the vision 

Greeting our eyes to-day ; 

Better the thronged waters 

And the busy streets astir, 
Purple and silken raiment, 

Balsam and balm and myrrh 

Gems of the farther Indies, 

Gold of thy own rich mine, 
And the pride and boast of the peoples, 

O beautiful Queen, are thine ! 

Praise to the goodly Fathers 

With banners of faith unfurled ! 
Praise to the sturdy heroes 

Who have won thee to the world ! 

That was a day to dream of 

That was a life we led; 
Bleeding the veins of the mountains, 

Draining the torrent s bed ; 

Searching the dusky canon, 

Tracking the pathless glen 
The shot, the knife, and the struggle 

With savage beasts and men ! 


But blest in the rest that follows, 
Is thought of a labor past ; 

Blessed in the homes we have builded, 
The peace and the rest at last. 

And blessed, indeed, the winter 
That nurses a smiling spring, 

When hands that the seed have scattered 
May gather the blossoming. 


S these not very desirable visitors come to us 
with uncomfortable frequency, it becomes a 
matter of interest to inquire into the probabil 
ity of their continued gentle demeanor, or 
whether some energetic quake may not, ere 
long, be rude enough to make a ruinous 
smash of things, and smother us in the crushed fragments 
of our own homes. As we live on a coast where volcanic 
agencies have left proofs of former activity, and where 
numerous hot springs and sulphurous emanations attest 
that their smoldering fires are not yet extinguished, the 
event above contemplated falls largely within the limits of 
impossible. But is it probable? 

Without stopping to investigate the theory of the modus 
operandi of earthquakes. I shall only allude to the fact of 
their occurrence in maximum force and frequency in the 
vicinity of volcanoes subject to alternate fits of repose and 
activity. They also linger for ages in such localities, after 
all other external volcanic manifestations have totally 
ceased ; decreasing in strength and frequency as the hand 
of Time heals and smooths over breaks and ruptures, and 
soothes the subterranean fires by opening other and distant 
outlets, until they come, finally, only at long intervals, 
in gentle tremblings, like an age-enfeebled warrior re-visit 
ing his youthful battle-fields. Shocks of more or less 
violence precede volcanic eruptions, and ease off as the 


craters open and the external flow of lava is established ; 
proving their intimate connection with the pent-up fluid 
matters struggling to escape. The violence affecting any 
given point within the area of agitation is of course in pro 
portion to its distance from the center of disturbance, other 
conditions being equal. The irregular surface, the hetero 
geneous material and variable tenacity of the crust produce 
ever-varying effects upon different localities of a district 
simultaneously disturbed by a wide-spread force, causing 
the false appearance of many independent local actions. 
Local and circumscribed disturbances doubtless often occur ; 
the earth-wave expanding concentrically from a central 
focus. These waves are, however, usually propagated 
along a line of maximum intensity, as in the course of a 
volcanic mountain chain. 

^ The point of interest with us is to determine this central 
line of intensity in the matter of our own earthquakes. 
There are probably three or four of these lines, correspond 
ing with the Sierras, the Coast Range, and a submarine 
range west of and parallel with the last named, along which 
lines our earth- waves travel ; and from points within which 
local shocks radiate. If we take the number of heat- vents 
still existing, as a measure of intensity of the fiery activity 
lingering yet beneath these mountain ranges, we will find 
the Coast Range far exceeding the Sierras in that regard. 
The submerged range I infer to be far more active "than 
either of the others. Its existence is matter of theory, based, 
however, on two strongly suggested facts. First, there is 
a sunken ridge, known as the Cortez Shoals, seventeen miles 
long, lying southwesterly and distant forty-six miles from 
the Island of San Clementes, and pointing in a direction 
parallel with the coast. It is suggested in the Report of the 
Coast Survey for 1862, that otlier similar developments 
might be looked for in a line with this. (See Coast Survey 
Reporter 1862, page 286.) Second, this shoal, or sunken 
ridge, is volcanic, according to the statement of Captain 
Cropper, of the steamer Cortez, who reported seeing the 
eruptions. A volcanic product, boracic acid, is found in 
the sea-water from about this point northward along the 


entire California coast, and even to Puget Sound. This 
unusual component of sea-water is found within a narrow 
belt along the shore, not more than thirty or forty miles 
wide, rendering it probable that a line of volcanic ema 
nations exists within the length and breadth of that space ; 
rendering it probable, too, that Captain Cropper was not 
mistaken, as has been assumed, in his statement. 

The Coast Range presents the same peculiarity of yielding 
boracic acid, along with the hot sulphurous waters of its 
numerous mineral springs. At a few points boracic salts 
exist to a very large extent, as at the well known "Borax 
Lake." The entire product of the Coast Range is insignifi 
cant, however, compared with the great submarine supply. 
The quantity is not sufficient to be detected in even the 
larger rivulets, draining the mountains, to say nothing of the 
rivers and the sea itself, into which they empty. Therefore, 
the presence of the acid in the shore waters of the ocean 
can not be accounted for on the hypothesis of being brought 
from the coast mountains. 

The ocean supply can only be accounted for on the sup 
position of a submerged volcanic chain of considerable 
activity, yielding boracic acid in large quantity. 

If the theory is correct, we may rationally locate the focus 
of disturbance of our hardest earth-shocks on this line. 
Although shocks doubtless emanate from the Coast Range 
line, yet their comparative strength and frequency would 
probably be in proportion to the relative activity of the 
two lines. 

I therefore conclude, that San Francisco is removed con 
siderably from the central disturbance of either the coast 
line or submarine line of earthquakes ; that the intensity 
of the shocks will therefore be always greatly mitigated ; 
and that the fury of the heaviest shocks will be expended 
on the sea waves thirty or forty miles from the shore ; and 
therefore the shore is probably safe from any shock of 
very great destructive violence. 



Our shocks seem generally to come from the south and 
proceed north. If we imagine our earth-wave having its 
center of disturbance in the submerged line above-named, 
and moving along it toward the north, spreading out its 
wings on either side as it rolls onward, the result would 
be as the shore wing passed under San Francisco, to sway 
perpendicular objects first to the north, or perhaps to the 
northeast, and then back again, uplifting at the same time. 
Two or more of such movements might occur, and then 
would follow the reactionary wave falling in the wake of 
the central disturbance, to fill up, as it were, the depres 
sion produced by its onward movement. This would cause 
an inclination of perpendicular bodies, first toward the 
west and then toward the east, nearly at right angles with 
the first movements. These two classes of movements are 
actually observed in most cases where both the initial and 
closing motions are noted. They prove conclusively that 
the center of disturbance passes on one side, and not under 
the city ; for in the latter case the movement would be only 
back and forth in the direction of the passing wave. 

Shocks, where the first heave is toward the north and 
east, probably are located in the marine line of disturbance, 
the wave moving north ; those giving a southwest heave 
probably come from the coast line, the wave moving in 
the same direction. 

It is to be regretted that no systematic mode of observa 
tion has heretofore been applied to these interesting phe 
nomena. It is to be hoped some of our scientific men may 
have the means and leisure ere long to establish some mode 
of noting, with comparative accuracy, the details of earth 
quake action. Dr. JOHX A. VEATCII, in the S. F. Mining 
and Scientific Press, San Francisco, March 31, 1868. 



jHE children of California are certainly a great 
improvement upon those not born among us. 
Nowhere can more rosy specimens of health and 
beauty be found. Strong-limbed, red-blooded, 
graceful, and as full of happy animal life as 
young fawns, they bid fair to develop into 
admirable types of manhood and womanhood. To them, 
loving their native soil with no acquired love, knowing no 
associations which are not linked with its blue skies and 
its yellow hills, we must look for its proper inhabitants, 
who will retain all that is vigorous, earnest, and generous in 
the present race, rejecting all that is coarse and mean. For 
myself, in breathing an air sweeter than that which first 
caught the honeyed words of Plato in looking upon 
lovelier vales than those of Tempe and Eurotas in wander 
ing through a land whose sentinel peak of Shasta far over 
tops the Olympian throne of Jupiter I could not but feel 
that nature must be false to her promise, or man is not the 
splendid creature he once was, if the art, the literature, 
and philosophy of ancient Greece are not one day rivaled 
on this last of inhabited shores! Bayard Taylor, July, 



WE suppose that Eastern literati will smile derisively at 
the assumption that poets are discoverable in this far-off 
West, which, in their imagination, is much associated with 
bowie-knives and buckskin wardrobes ; but we shall en 
deavor occasionally to present a sample of domestic manu 
facture, which, if the critics can be divested of strong 
prejudice, may, possibly, induce them to confess that 
among the monstrosities of this coast, a maker or two of 
good verse may be found. If we could delude them by 
assurance that the following poem was written by Tennyson, 
or some renowned foreigner, we have not a doubt but what 


it would be pronounced prodigiously fine ; but, unhappily, 
it was not ; it was constructed by a miner, away up in the 
lonesome defiles of Trinity Mountain a poet who blends 
invocation of the Muses with the uses of the pick and ax, 
and who, smiting the unyielding rock, thinks as tenderly, 
and beautifully, and grandly as though the world were to 
catch up every syllable with acclamation. L. F. WELLS is 
a true poet, and he it was who wrote the song of 


She dwelt where long the wintry showers 

Hold undisputed sway, 
Where frowning April drives the flowers 

Far down the lane of May. 
A simple, rustic child of song, 

Reared in a chilliim zone, 


The idol of a household throng 

The cherished one of home. 
None sang her praise, or heard her fame 

Beyond her native town ; 
She bore no fancy- woven name, 

Twas simple Mary Brown. 

Her eyes were not a shining black, 

Nor yet a heavenly blue, 
They might be hazel, or, alack ! 

Some less poetic hue ; 
Indeed, I mind me, long ago, 

One pleasant summer day 
A passing stranger caught their glow, 

I think he -called them gray. 
Yet when with earnestness they burned, 

Till other eyes grew dim, 
Their outward tint was ne er discerned, 

Their spell was from within. 

A novelist, with fancy s pen, 

Would scarcely strive to trace 
From her a fairy heroine 

Of matchless mem and grace. 


A model for the painter s skill, 

Or for the sculptor s art, 
Her form might not be called ; yet still 

It bore a gentle heart ; 
The while it fondly treasured long 

Love s lightest whispered tone, 
In other hearts she sought no wrong, 

She knew none in her own. 

Though never skilled in fashion s school, 

To sweep the trembling keys ; 
Or strike the harp by studied rule, 

A listening throng to please ; 
Yet still when anguish rent the soul, 

And fever racked the brain, 
Her fingers knew that skillful touch 

Which soothed the brow of pain 
And widow thanks and orphan tears 

Had owned her tender care, 
While little children gathered near 

Her earnest love to share. 

I might forget the queenly dame 

Of high and courtly birth, 
Descending from an ancient name 

Among the sons of earth ; 
I scarce recall the dazzling eyes 

Of her the village belle, 
Who caused so many rural sighs 

From rustic hearts to swell ; 
Yet never can I cease to own 

While future years shall roll, 
Thy passing beauty, Mary Brown 

The beauty of the soul. 
TRINITY RIVER, August, 1858. 

San Francisco Mirror, September 3, 1860. 


MEN are so inclined to content themselves with what 
is commonest, the spirit and the senses so easily grow 


dead to the impression of the "beautiful and perfect, that 
every one should study to nourish in his mind the faculty 
of feeling these things by every method in his power. For 
no man can bear to be entirely deprived of such enjoyments ; 
it is only because they are not used to taste of what is ex 
cellent, that the generality of people take delight in silly 
and insipid things, provided that they be new. For this 
reason, one ought every day at least to hear a good song, 
read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it be possible, 
to speak a few reasonable words. Goethe. 


Head at Marysville, September 27, 1858. 

LET Earth be glad ! for that great work is done, 
Which makes, at last, the Old and New World one! 
Let all mankind rejoice ; for time nor space 
Shall check the progress of the human race ! 
Though Nature heaved the Continents apart, 
She cast in one great mold the human heart ; 
She framed on one grand plan the human mind, 
And gave man speech to link him to his kind : 
So that, though plains and mountains intervene, 
Or oceans, broad and stormy, roll between, 
If there but be a courier for the thought, 
Swift-winged or slow, the lands and seas are naught, 
And man is nearer to his brother brought. 

First, ere the dawn of letters was, or burst 
The light of science on the world, men, nursed 
In distant solitudes apart, did send 
Midst lurking foes and dangers without end, 
Their skin-clad heralds forth, to thread the woods, 
Scale mountain peaks, or swim the sudden floods, 
And bear their messages of peace or war. 
Next, beasts were tamed to drag the rolling car, 


Or speed the mounted rider on his track. 

And, then came, too, the vessels oar-propelled, 

Which fled the ocean as the clouds grew black, 

And safe near shore their prudent courses held. 

Next came the winged ships, which, brave and free, 

Did skim the bosom of the bounding sea, 

And dared the storms and darkness in their flight 

Yet, drifted far before the winds and night, 

Or lay within the Dead Calm s grasp of might. 

Then, sea-divided nations nearer came, 

Stood face to face, spake each the other s name, 

In friendship grew, and learned the truth sublime, 

That man is man, in every age and clime ! 

They nearer were, by months and years but space 

Must still be shortened in Improvement s race ; 

And STEAM came next, to wake the world from sleep, 

And launched her black-plumed warriors of the deep ; 

The which, in calm or storm, rode onward still, 

And braved the raging elements at will. 

Then distance, which, from calms and storms delays, 

Grew into months, was shortened into days, 

And Science self declared her wildest dream 

Reached not beyond this miracle of steam ! 

But, STEAM hath not the lightning s wondrous power, 

Though Titan-like midst Science sons it tower, 

And wrestle with the ocean in his wrath, 

And sweep the wild waves foaming from its path. 

A mightier monarch is that subtler thing 

Which gives to human thought its thought-swift wing ; 

Which speaks in thunder, like a God, 

Or humbly stoops to kiss the lifted rod ; 

Ascends to Night s dim, solitary throne, 

And drapes it with a splendor not its own 

A ghastly grandeur and a ghostly sheen, 

Through which the pale stars tremble as they re seen ; 

Descends to fire the far horizon s rim, 

And paints Mount ^Etna in the cloudland grim; 

Or, proud to own fair Science rightful sway, 

Low bends along the electric wire to play, 

And, helping out the ever-wondrous plan, 

Becomes, in sooth, an errand-boy for man ! 


This power it was, which, not content with aught 

As yet achieved by human will or thought, 

Disdained the slow account of months or days, 

In navigation of the ocean-ways, 

And days would shorten into hours and these 

To minutes, in the face of angered seas ! 

If thought might not be borne upon the foam 

Of furrowing keel, with speed that thought should roam, 

It then should walk, like light, the ocean s bed, 

And laugh to scorn the winds and waves o erhead ! 

Beneath the reach of storm or wreck, down where 

The skeletons of men and navies are, 

Its silent steps should be ; while o er its path 

The monsters of the deep, in sport or wrath, 

The waters lashed, till, like a pot should boil 

The sea, and fierce AEION paw th up-cast spoil ! 

America ! to thee belongs the praise 

Of this great, crowning deed of modern days ; 

Twas FRANKLIX called the wonder from on liio-h 


Twas MORSE who bade it on man s errands fly 
Twas he foretold its pathway neath the sea 
A daring FIELD fulfilled the prophecy ! 

Twas fitting that a great, free land, like this, 
Should give the Lightning s voice to Liberty ; 
Should wing the heralds of earth s happiness, 
And sins:, beneath the ever-sounding sea, 

O O * 

The fair, the bright millennial days to be. 

Now may, ere long, the sword be sheathed, to rust, 

The helmet laid in undistinguished dust ; 

The thund rous chariot pause in mid career, 

Its crimsoned wheels no more through blood to steer ; 

The red-hoofed steed from fields of death be led, 

Or turned to pasture where the armies bled ; 

For nation unto nation soon shall be 

Together brought in knitted unity, 

And man be bound to man, by that strong chain, 

Which, linking land to land and main to main, 

Shall vibrate to the voice of Peace, and be 

A throbbing heart-string of HUMANITY ! 



THERE were giants once on this coast, all the denials of 
savans and doubters, notwithstanding. Not less than four 
well-known cases have been noted of the discovery of the 
remains of the giant Californians of Sierra Nevadas, to wit : 
;pj rs t a skull bone was found in Trinity County in 1856 ; 
second there were found in Tuolurane County, in 1860, a 
thigh bone and skull of a man twelve feet high ; third- 
there were discovered near Jacksonville, in Southern 
Oregon, in May, 1862, a pair of human jaw bones of the 
immense breadth of seven inches ; and fourth there were 
discovered in 1762, near the Mission of Ignacio de Kadaka- 
man, in latitude twenty-eight degrees north, on the Pacific 
coast of Lower California, the vertebrae, skull, ribs, &c., of 
a man eleven feet in height, which were found by one of the 
old Jesuit priests. These accounts, with several others on 
the human fossils of California and Mexico, as disinterred 
by the gold miners with their wonder-working water 
machinery, may be found in the u Notes on the Indians of 
California," now in the course of publication in the Farmer 
of San Francisco. Such remains of the ancient races ought 
to be preserved. The skull or other remains of a giant 
twelve feet liigli, is worth its weight in gold, in London or 
Paris. San Francisco Bulletin. 


THE first intimation that gold existed in Eastern Oregon, 
Washington, and what is now Idaho Territories, by a white 
man, is said to have come from Capt. Pierce, from whom 
Pierce City since took its name. As early as 1852, while 
on a trading expedition with the Nez Perces, he became 
satisfied that this was a gold bearing country, but the 
hostility of the Indians prevented him in various attempts 
to test the truth in his belief until as late as 1860, while, in 
the mean time, when\the captain resided in California, Mr. 


Robbins, of Portland, purchased ten dollars worth, of gold 
dust from a Spokane Indian, in 1854, which led to pros 
pecting in that country, and in 1855, some Frenchmen and 
half-breeds from Oregon, struck the Colville mines. Dur 
ing this year the Indian war very nearly put a stop to 
prospecting until as late as 58, when Captain Pierce again 
arrived in the country, and attempted to prospect the Nez 
Perces country, but found the Indians hostile, and sus 
pended operations until 1860, when a party of some ninety 
men went into the Oro Fino district, arid finding as they 
anticipated good diggings, they wintered there. In 1861 
Oro Grande and South Clearwater were discovered, and late 
in the fall the rich Salmon River placers. During the year 
1861 valuable deposits were developed on Powder, John 
Day s, and Burnt rivers, and in 1862, the greatest and most 
important mineral district of all was brought to light in the 
discovery of the Boise Basin. Meanwhile Beaver Head and 
Big Hole were found, east of the Rocky Mountains. Boise 


the date of the discovery of America the whole 
amount of gold in commercial Europe was esti- 
timated at $170,000,000. During the succeed 
ing one hundred and twelve years, the open 
ing of new fields of supply added about 
), 387, 500, 000, so that had there been no loss nor shipments, 
there should have been at the commencement_of the present 
century $6,557,500,000 in the commercial world. If to this 
we add the enormous receipts from California and Australia, 
developed in late years, and the continued supplies drawn 
from the older fields, the statement will seem incredible 
that instead of accumulating, the stock of gold in Europe is 
actually on the decrease. The inquiry then naturally 
arises, what becomes of the precious metal ? 

In a paper read before the Polytechnic Association, Dr. 
Stephens stated that of our annual gold product, full fifteen 


per cent, is melted down for manufactures ; thirty-five per 
cent, goes to Europe ; twenty -five per cent, to Cuba ; fifteen 
per cent, to Brazil ; five per cent, direct to Japan and the 
Indies leaving but five per cent, for circulation in this 
country. Of that which goes to Cuba, the West Indies and 
Brazil, full fifty per cent, finds its way to Europe, where, 
after deducting a large percentage used in manufacturing, 
four-fifths of the remainder is exported to India. Here the 
transit of the precious metal is at an end ; here the sup 
ply, however vast, is absorbed, and never returns to the 
civilized world. 

The Orientals consume but little, while their productions 
have ever been in demand among the Western nations. As 
mere recipients therefore, these nations have acquired the 
desire of accumulation and hoarding, a passion common 
alike to all classes among the Egyptians, Indians, Chinese 
and Persians. A French economist states that in his 
opinion the former nation alone hide away $20,000,000 of 
gold and silver annually, and the present Emperor of Mo 
rocco is reported as so addicted to this avaricious mania that 
he has filled seventeen large chambers with the precious 
metals. The passion of princes, it is not surprising that the 
same spirit is shared by their subjects, and it is in this pre 
dilection that we discover the solution of the problem as to 
the ultimate disposition of the precious metals. This 
absorption by the Eastern nations has been uninterruptedly 
going on since the most remote historical period. Accord 
ing to Pliny, $100,000,000 in gold was in his days annually 
exported to the East. The balance of trade in favor of 
these nations is now given as $90,000,000 annually. 

Actual loss to the world, to a great amount, is yearly 
caused by sinking in the ocean, and in some of the pro 
cesses employed in the arts, as plating and gilding. In 
concluding, an estimate concerning the actual loss of coin 
in circulation by abrasion may be proper. In a report 
made by the United States Mint a few years since, is given 
the following results of some careful and comprehensive 
experiments made at the Mint to ascertain this loss, show 
ing that waste of gold and silver by this cause has been 


generally over estimated. " On our silver coins, taken pro 
miscuously, the average amount of loss from abrasion was 
ascertained to be one part in 3,5oO ; the double eagle one 
in 9,000 ; and a careful estimate as to the proportions of the 
various sizes of coins actually in circulation in the United 
States, made of two metals, led to the conviction that the 
yearly loss does not exceed one part in 2,400." 


IN the cradle, here by me, 

Something fair reposes, 
Whiter than the lilies be, 

Sweeter than the roses. 

On the pillow soft is laid 

Something young and tender, 

Stainless brow and shining head, 
Fingers white and slender. 

Lids like snow-flakes, drooped above, 
Eyes like summer blossom, 

Lips a rosebud, made for love, 
Dimpled cheek and bosom. 

Fairest flowers from forest dell, 

Dearer for their fleetness, 
Waxen bud and lily bell 

Best befit his sweetness. 

Much we wonder, when he sleeps, 

What his eyes are seeing, 
Knowing well that angels keep 

Watch about his being. 

For a moment round his eyes 
Radiant smiles are beaming, 

Then he starts with grieving cries 
Is the baby dreaming ? 


Gentle shepherd ! who dost hold 
In thy tender keeping 

All the lambs within thy fold, 
Waking or in sleeping ; 

We are weak who fold the child 
In our fond caressing ; 

Grant to crown our undefiled, 
Thy divinest blessing. 


San Joaquin valley may "be said to possess 
no picturesque scenery. Like the prairies of 
the West, it is a vast undulating plain or dead 
level, with an occasional tree or park of oaks 
* ^ vers ify the general monotony. No tim 
ber of account springs up along the streams, 
no thickets of green shrubbery relieve the eye, no murmur 
ing rills disturb the ear, but through the fervid plains of 
autumn the waters sluggishly wander ladened with the 
ochery sediment of distant placer mines. Yet within the 
sight, at a slight elevation above the horizon, the view 
changes. The mountains rise in Olympian majesty, their 
bases running off into gentle slopes or rugged spurs, cut up 
into innumerable configurations of landscape, while their 
dull brownish outline is relieved by groves of evergreen 
timber, and their upper summits are sparkling with snow 
or lost in the empyrean vault of heaven. If the flatness 
and tameness of the valley is insipid, the grandeur of the 
mountain scenery inspires a feeling of awe and sublimity. 
Yet the valleys, for a few months of the early year, have a 
tranquil, modest beauty in their verdurous monotony ; but 
nothing is more desolate than the plains in the autumn 
months, when the herbage has been scorched sere and 
brown, and even the homely fact of its still-existing nutri 
tious qualities does not recompense for the lack of inspiring 
influences the scene gives to nature. Seen in this phase, so 



different from all home associations, one wonders not that 
the early adventurers never dreamed of the riches slumber 
ing in the soil which wore so unprepossessing an aspect 
but only believed in the mineral wealth they came to seek. 
The wonder of the Alpine scenery, the Yosemite Falls, on 
the head-waters of the Merced, are the most picturesque 
and elevated cataracts in the world. The Merced, a stream 
of considerable magnitude, precipitates itself at the first fall 
a sheer perpendicular descent of 1,600 feet, and a succeed- 


ing fall is 434 feet. There are other falls one of 700 feet, 
another of 750 feet, and a third of 300 feet, on a branch of 
the same stream. They are in the region of elevated peaks 
and rugged precipices, one of which has a perpendicular 
descent of 4,000 feet. In this region, and the mountain re 
gion for two hundred rpiles, the most sublime Alpine scenery 
is to be found, which annually attracts many curious visit 
ors. The Coast Range does not exceed an average altitude of 
3,000 feet, and in fertile portions is covered to the summit 
with wild indigenous oats, that give to them in the spring 


season a peculiarly lovely grandeur. The plains, at this 
season, are clothed in green verdure, into which intermin 
gles the golden lily and myriads of native wild flowers ; 
and the cheerful pipings of the lark, quail, and myriads of 
feathered songsters, make the air vocal with their notes. In 
the Tulare country, along the Kahweah and King s rivers, 
the virgin soil gives growth to beautiful groves of cotton- 
wood and sycamore, and their margins are fringed with per 
ennial verdure. Climate and soil conspire to give birth to 
the most picturesque sylvan scenery and grandest monu 
ments of Nature. Here will become, in future years, the 
tropical Paradise of California. Stocktori Independent, 
April 27, 1868. 



IRST. It has been ascertained that the gold 
deposits of the State lie not in the silurian 
rocks, which were previously considered to be 
the basis of all rich auriferous regions, but in 
the Jurassic or triassic lithological formations 
of later date. 

Second. It has been ascertained that the coal region of 
California lies not in the tertiary rocks, as was previously 
supposed, but in the cretaceous, the highest portion of the 
secondary era. 

Third. All the rich gold mines of the State are found in 
the Jurassic and triassic rocks ; all the valuable coal and 
quicksilver in the cretaceous. 

Fourth. The limits of the Jurassic and cretaceous have 
been traced with tolerable accuracy over most of the area 
of the State. 

Fifth. The metallurgical processes used in our gold mines 
were carefully studied and described a year or two ago, but 
the work must be rewritten to bring it up to the present 
advanced stage of that branch of industry. 


Sixth. All the principal high points of the State, long 
known, have been ascended, their geological character 
examined, and their precise altitude ascertained. 

Seventh. It has been ascertained that Mount Shasta is not 
the highest point in the State. 

Eighth. A large district, previously unheard of by the 
public, has been found to rise to a height of eleven thou 
sand feet or more, with a hundred peaks that rise about 
thirteen thousand feet, and a general elevation, extent, and 
grandeur of scenery that surpass Switzerland. 

Ninth. Canons have been found deeper and longer than 

Tenth. The Big Tree has been found to exist, not merely 
in a few isolated groves, as was supposed, but in extensive 
forests, with tens of thousands of trees, along a consider 
able portion of the Sierra Nevada. 

Eleventh. Large bodies of excellent pasturage were found 
in places previously unknown to the whites. 

Twelfth. It has been ascertained to the satisfaction of 
Professor Whitney, that the men and mammoths, whose 
bones are found deep in the hills of the mining districts, 
lived together in the same age, and their remains were 
buried side by side in the same natural convulsions, which 
happened many thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, 
of years ago. 

Thirteenth. An extensive collection of minerals, vegeta 
bles, and preserved or stuffed animals has been obtained, 
and will be prepared for exhibition so soon as the State 
prepares a proper place for it. 

Fourteenth. The people of this State have shown their 
desire to understand the nature of their country, and they 
will be respected abroad for their enterprise, liberality and 
judgment in carrying out this important work. 



COPY of a bill of fare of a fashionable eating-house in San 
Francisco, at the end of 1849 : 



Thursday, December 27, 1849. 

Ox Tail. . 4 $1 00 


Baked Trout, White and Anchovy Sauce $1 50 


Beef $1 00 I Mutton, stuffed $1 00 

Lamb, stuffed 1 00 | Pork, Apple Sauce 1 25 


Leg Mutton, Caper Sauce $1 25 | Corned Beef and Cabbage $1 25 

Ham $1 00 


Curried Sausages, a mie $1 00 

Beef, stewed with Onions 1 25 

Tenderloin Lamb, Green Peas 1 25 

Venison, Port Wine Sauce 1 50 

Stewed Kidney, Sauce de Champagne 1 25 


Fresh California Eggs, each $1 00 


Curlew, roast or boiled, to order $3 00 


Sweet Potatoes, baked $0 50 

Irish do. boiled. . 50 

Irish Potatoes, mashed $0 50 


Squash $0 50 


Bread Pudding $0 75 

Mince Pie 75 

Apple Pie 75 

Brandy Peach 2 00 

Rum Omelette $2 00 

Jelly do 2 00 

Cheese 50 

Stewed Prunes 75 


Champagne $5 00 I Claret $2 00 

do. half bottles 3 00 | Champagne Cider 2 00 

Pale Sherry 3 00 

Old Maderia 400 

Old Port, half bottles 175 

Porter . 2 00 

Ale 2 00 

Brandy, per bottle 2 00 

BREAKFAST From half-past 7 to 11 A. M. 
DINNER From half-past 1 to 6 P. M. 
TEA From half-past 6 to 12. 

Pioneer Magazine. 



;NE of the most remarkable feats of endurance in 
a speaker which we remember ever to have 
heard of, comes to us from Victoria, Vancouver 
Island. In the legislative assembly of that 
place, we are told that Leonard McClure spoke 
seventeen hours without pausing or sitting down. To those 
who are unacquainted with the circumstance, this feat might 
not unreasonably appear proper to be placed in the same 
category with the exertions of those ambitious pedestrians 
who, for wagers, walk a thousand miles in a thousand hours. 
It may easily be supposed that McClure s speech could not 
have been a masterpiece of oratory, nor is it likely that his 
inducement was greater than that which moved Edmund 
Burke, when, at the trial of Warren Hastings, after pouring 
out for fourteen hours a torrent of impassioned eloquence, 
the majestic mind collapsed under the force of physical 
fatigue, and he fell fainting into the arms of Sheridan. But 
we know of no instance of stubborn tenacity equal to this 
of McClure s, and the cause was one which should make 
him famous in the annals of the British colonies. A year 
ago a large quantity of land in and about Victoria was 
seized by the Government for arrears of taxes, and was by 
it held on the understanding expressed and published, that 
the owners could have and repossess their lots by paying 
the taxes within a twelvemonth of the seizure. But it be 
came known a few days before the expiration of the allotted 
term that a plot was on foot, hatched by the Government 
and backed by a venal majority of the House of Assembly, 
to pass a bill authorizing the executive to repudiate its 
contract with the land-owners, refusing to accept payment 
of arrears and seizing upon and retaining permanently the 
disputed lots. Two men in that House opposed that meas 
ure. Their names were Amor de Cosmos and Leonard 
McClure. They knew that they had nothing to hope from 
their compeers or from the Government, and they prepared 


themselves accordingly. The House had made up its mind, 
with these two exceptions, to rush through the obnoxious 
bill on the day before the twelvemonth expired. There was 
but one way to prevent this, and it was adopted resolutely. 
On the House being opened, McClure rose to his feet, the time 
being noon, and kept the floor until five o clock the follow 
ing morning. For seventeen hours he continued to speak, 
whilst every effort was made by the purchased majority to 
put him down and to tire him out. With, a merciless una 
nimity they refused to allow him to lean against a table, to 
put his foot upon a chair for a moment, to relieve the irk- 
someness of his position by resting his hand upon any 
thing, or to speak, in short, in any other than a rigidly 
erect and unsupported attitude. During the whole of the 
time they relieved each other at intervals, going out and pro 
curing such refreshment as they needed, and always leaving 
a quorum in the House. When McClure sank exhausted 
into his seat, as the light of another morning was stealing 
into the windows of the Assembly-house, Be Cosmos rose, 
and for the remaining seven hours of the twenty-four talked 
against time. On rising, amid the groans and hisses of the 
disgusted and infuriated majority, he exclaimed, with more 
force than refinement, that it was useless for honorable 
members to evince their malice in that manner, for he had 
got up with the determination to talk, if necessary, c until 
the angel Gabriel sounded the last trump." His powers of 
endurance were not quite so severely tested, but the end 
was achieved, and when the clock struck twelve the worn 
and wearied champions of honesty looked round with par 
donable exultation upon the blank faces of a bought and 
beaten Assembly. S. F. Examiner. 



[HE editor of the Spirit of the Times, who has 
recently visited Lake Tahoe, gives the following 
well-written and exceedingly interesting de 
scription of it [Editor San Franoisco Bulletin, 
November 16, 1867] :- 

Lake Tahoe burst upon our vision in all its 
magnificence and beauty. Among the Indians the name of 
this lake is still a matter of dispute. Some of them contend 
that Lake Tahoe is, properly speaking, Was-Soo Lake, and 
that the lake in Washoe Valley, twelve miles from the 
northern shore of Tahoe, is Tule, and not Washoe. Tule, 
in Indian, is pronounced like Sawyer, or, as they are sup 
posed to spell it, Tsau-er. It is certainly true that the lake 
in Washoe Valley is surrounded with tules, which un 
doubtedly gives rise to the supposition in respect to it on 
the part of the Indians. The Indians say that Tahoe means 
big lake, while those who have a smattering of the Indian 
tongue insist that its significance is deep water ; and others, 
again, say it means fish lake. But what s in a name, comes 
with peculiar force in connection with the subject of which 
we write ; for even if this lake never had a name, even if it 
had one with each change of the moon, or if eternity should 
surround it, and it should flow back into the channels of 
the unknown, it could never add to or detract from its 
glorious beauties, grandeur, and magnificence ; for, when 
the Saviour of men went up on to the mountain-top and 
wept, it seems that at such a spot, where so much holy 
beauty and purity dwells, his tears must have flowed. 
Such glory of scenery, situation, and beneficial results 
could not have been placed there except by divine hands. 
We have seen paintings of this lake by artists of natural 
and acquired ability, who love their art and study to make 
it perfect, but when you come to contrast them with the 
grand reality, it does not take the eye of a connoisseur to 
detect the defects. Descriptions, too, fail to convey the 
true loveliness of the spot, and although we, in common 
with those who are fortunate enough to have the leisure to 



linger on its shore, enter the list to place our humble tribute 
to its merits on record, yet those who come after us will say, 
"How far wide of the mark he came I 1 

When we first saw this lake, we thought of all the differ 
ent scenes of land and water view which we had ever visited, 
and none could compare in beauty to that before us, except 
Niagara, though the beauty of the falls and the lake are dis 
similar the former stormy and gigantic in its grandeur, 
while the latter is as peaceful and placid as an infant s 
smile, though at times it is something like an infant in the 
suddenness of its squalls. Here, at an altitude of 6,218 feet 
above the level of the ocean, reposing in the strong embrace 
of dark and frowning mountains and laving the feet of craggy 
hills, lies a sheet of water, from the lovely bosom of which 
the roughest nature might draw inspiration. It is in the 
form of a parallelogram, the lines on the northern and 
southern shore being distinct and similar. It lies north and 
south, or, more closely speaking, a little northeast and 
southwest. It is twenty- three miles in length and fifteen in 
width. The water is tri-colored, if we may use the expres 
sion in connection with it. For half a mile from the shore 
(which is of a soft, fine sandy beach), the color is a most 
beautiful pea-green, tinged with blue, and as clear as 
crystal, objects on the bottom being as distinct as if imme 
diately before you. For half a mile farther it changes to a 
green about two shades darker, still with the bluish tinge, 
but as clear as before. One can hardly imagine that the 
bottom is so far removed, as it looks as if it could be stood 
on with the head out of the water. From the last color it 
changes instantaneously to the deepest color of indigo blue. 
The density of this color is wonderful, but the lines of the 
three colors are as distinctly drawn across the lake, from 
north to south, as if painted there, and when the sun shines 
upon it in the afternoon, they are more distinct than at any 
other time. The water of the lake is purity itself, but on 
account of the highly rarefied state of the air it is not very 
buoyant, and swimmers find some little fatigue ; or, in other 
words, they are compelled to keep swimming all the time 
they are in the water. 


The depth, of the water is very deceptive. From the 
northern shore, and, to a certain extent, from the southern 
shore, a person may wade a long distance and not find it 
above the chin, but it makes depth very quickly. Measuring 
from the latter point, just at the confluence of the dark green 
and blue line, the water is 81 feet in depth, and immediately 
(the distance between the two soundings being almost im 
perceptible) it falls to a depth of 269 feet ; then 593 feet ; at 
a farther distance, 953 feet ; and at a distance of above three 
miles from the shore, 1,253 feet, with a hard, sandy bottom. 
These soundings were taken from south to north, and, after 
the last was obtained, there were fifteen taken, one mile 
apart, with the following result : 1,294 feet, bottom sandy ; 
1,415 feet, fine mud ; 1,432 feet, fine mud and sand; 1,499, 
1,494, 1,478, and 1,488 feet, fine mud bottom. The greatest 
depth found, with a bottom the same as the last, 1,523 feet, 
then 1,521 feet, with the samo bottom. The depth was then 
1,242 feet, with a bottom of rock and mud; 560 feet, sand 
and mud ; 83 feet, rock and sand ; 48 feet, gravel ; 23 feet, 
sand, rock, and bowlder bottom, the bowlders being clearly 
discernible at a depth of 81 feet. The soundings, as a matter 
of course, do away with the idea that the lake is bottomless ; 
and, although the greatest depth is impenetrable