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THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 

THE 
 
 Early Days of My Episcopate 
 
 BY THE 
 
 RIGHT REV. WM. INGRAHAM KIP, D.D., LL.a 
 
 BISHOP OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 -^4^^- 
 
 IVIAY iV JBH2 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER 
 
 2 & 3 BIBLE HOUSE 
 
 1892 
 

 Copyright, 1892, 
 By THOMAS WHITTAKER. 
 
1 
 
 INSCRIBED 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 TO HIS FRIEND AND BROTHER 
 
 THE RIGHT REVEREND WILLIAM FORD NICHOLS, D.D. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 This account of the early days of my episcopate was 
 written in the year 1859-1860, with the intention of 
 bequeathing the manuscript to my family^ to be put to 
 press after my life had closed, and when the generation 
 of which it speaks should have passed away. 
 
 Thirty-one years have come and gone since then. I 
 live to see the fulfilment of many prophecies it makes 
 the death of many hopes it records. 
 
 Beyond the allotted span of years, I meet the new gen- 
 eration that I had made my heirs. With me still are 
 many friends of the olden time, to whose solicitations I 
 yield in sending forth this work unaltered from the shape 
 it took when I sat down to write the story of the early 
 days of the Church in California, to bequeath it — as 
 Lord Bacon, in his will, did his ^^ name and memory '' 
 — '^to the next ages." 
 
 ♦ 
 San Francisco, March^ 1891. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. The Appointment .... 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 II. Consecration. 
 
 
 
 6 
 
 III. The Voyage to Aspinwall . 
 
 
 
 12 
 
 IV. Passage of the Isthmus. 
 
 
 
 24 
 
 V. Voyage up the Pacific . 
 
 
 
 . 36 
 
 VI. Wreck of the ' * Golden Gate " 
 
 
 
 47 
 
 VII. San Diego .... 
 
 
 
 . 56 
 
 VIII. Departure from San Diego o 
 
 
 
 . 64 
 
 IX. San Francisco 
 
 
 
 70 
 
 X. Climate 
 
 
 
 82 
 
 XI. The First Sunday. 
 
 
 
 89 
 
 XII. Grace Church 
 
 
 
 • 94 
 
 XIII. Sacramento .... 
 
 
 
 . 100 
 
 XIV. Stockton .... 
 
 
 
 • 115 
 
 XV. My First Convention . 
 
 
 
 . 124 
 
 XVI. Marysville, Grass Valley and Nevada 
 
 
 . 131 
 
 XVII. San Jose .... 
 
 . 
 
 
 ^54 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XVIII. Monterey 
 XIX. The Special Conventioj 
 XX. Benicia ... 
 XX r. Southern California 
 XXII. Rural Parishes . 
 
 XXIII. Return. 
 
 XXIV. Conclusion . 
 
 165 
 186 
 197 
 
 203 
 242 
 248 
 263 
 
THE 
 
 EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 I. 
 
 THE APPOINTMENT. 
 
 My interest in behalf of California had been awakened 
 long before I ever expected to be personally connected with 
 the Church on the Pacific. When I was living in Albany, 
 as Rector of St. Paul's Church, my family physician had a 
 brother-in-law, who was one of the Wardens of Trinity 
 Church, San Francisco. His letters were regularly read 
 to me, until I became acquainted with the history and 
 advancement of the Church in that city. 
 
 In 1852, Mr. Mines, the Rector of Trinity Church, died, 
 and the Vestry wrote to friends in the East for a successor. 
 The charge was offered to several persons, and at last to 
 the Rev. Christopher B. Wyatt, Assistant Minister of the 
 Church of the Holy Apostles in New York. About this 
 time, when one day talking with my physician on the 
 subject of California, the question was put to me, I believe 
 by his wife, as if a sudden thought, — " Why would not you 
 go ? " The suggestion struck me favorably. I had been 
 fifteen years in Albany, — had built up a large congregation, 
 — and it seemed as if there was no room for progress or 
 enlargement in the future. On the other hand, in San 
 Francisco was a new field, — a rising empire, — and there 
 
2 THE EARL Y DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 was a freshness and enterprise in founding the Church in 
 that region which rather fascinated my imagination. I 
 seemed too to be more free from family ties than most 
 clergymen. I had only two children. My eldest son, Law- 
 rence, was a cadet at West Point, so that I had but one 
 living with me, a son not yet fourteen, and if I went, he 
 could accompany us. After discussing the matter, there- 
 fore, I almost concluded, that if Mr. Wyatt did not go, I 
 would. 
 
 Shortly afterwards, I received a call to St. Peter's Church, 
 Baltimore, vacant by the removal of Dr. (since Bishop) At- 
 kinson, to Grace Church. I determined not to accept it, 
 but having occasion the next week to visit Baltimore, to 
 lecture before some association, I deferred my answer till 
 then. On the afternoon of my arrival, I called on m}^ old 
 friend Bishop Whittingham. As I entered his study, he 
 greeted me with — 
 
 " Well, I hope you have not come here to tell me you are 
 not going to St. Peter's ! " 
 
 I answered him that such was my decision, and then we 
 talked it over. In the course of our conversation I men- 
 tioned, incidentally, that if Mr. Wyatt did not accept the call 
 to San Francisco it would be offered to me, and that I was 
 strongly disposed to go. Bishop Whittingham seemed to 
 catch at this as suggesting new thoughts. He looked down 
 a moment, and then said in his rapid, impressive way: 
 
 " I've new light ! I've new light ! You must go to Cali- 
 fornia, but not as a Presbyter. You must go out in another 
 capacity. If you'll go to California, I'll pardon you for 
 not coming to St. Peter's ! " 
 
 This was the germ of the California Episcopate. Here was 
 
THE APPOINTMENT. 3 
 
 the first suggestion of what afterwards developed into 
 a plan which has changed my whole life. From this con- 
 versation grew up the idea of sending out a Missionary 
 Bishop, and with this, my name, through Bishop Whitting- 
 ham's suggestions, became necessarily connected. Sub- 
 sequently, Mr. Wyatt determined to accept the call to San 
 Francisco, and sailed in April, 1853; so that the idea of my 
 going as a Presbyter was abandoned and I had nothing to 
 do but remain quiet and await the leadings of Providence. 
 
 In October, 1853, the General Convention met in New 
 York, and the subject of Episcopal supervision for California 
 was a prominent matter before it for discussion. Some 
 time before, the Convocation in California had formed it- 
 self into a Diocese, and the question at issue was, whether, 
 as Missionary Bishops, by Canon VIII. of 1844, are elected 
 " to exercise Episcopal functions in States or Territories 
 not organized into Dioceses,'' one could legally be appointed 
 for California. The House of Bishops, after a long debate, 
 determined, as they had not yet received California into 
 union with the Convention or recognized it as a Diocese, 
 to ignore its formation and treat it entirely as Missionary 
 ground. 
 
 I was accordingly nominated by my old friend Bishop 
 Wainwright. Bishop Williams told me afterwards that 
 the talk which ensued was exceedingly amusing. My 
 qualifications were freely discussed, then those of my wife; 
 then our parents were talked over, and finally they got 
 back to our grandparents, showing a belief in inherited 
 traits rather unusual in this country. Some of the Bishops 
 who were afraid my Churchmanship was rather too ele- 
 vated in its character, proposed to Bishop Alonzo Potter 
 
4 77^5: EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 (of Pennsylvania) to nominate a distinguished Presbyter of 
 bis Diocese. This, though a strong friend of mine, he felt 
 obliged to do, and the vote was taken. It stood twenty for 
 
 me, and six for the Rev. Dr. . Bishop Potter then 
 
 himself moved that it be unanimous, which was passed. I 
 would here mention, that on my arrival in New York, a 
 
 few days afterwards, Dr. (the other candidate), came 
 
 to me with his warm congratulations, and assured me that 
 his name was used entirely without his knowledge or con- 
 sent. He has since been elected to one of our largest east- 
 ern Dioceses. 
 
 At the same session, the Rev. F. T. Scott, D.D., of 
 Georgia, was nominated as Missionary Bishoj) of Oregon 
 and Washington Territories. 
 
 Both these nominations were at once forwarded to the 
 House of Clerical and Lay Deputies, where they met with 
 some opposition. The point with regard to California was 
 the constitutional difficulty which had already been mooted 
 in the House of Bishops. With regard to Oregon and 
 AVashington Territories, it was thought by many that the 
 appointment w^as premature. Both were, however, con- 
 firmed by a large majority. 
 
 On the same day I received several telegraphic messages 
 from New York, informing me of the result and urging me 
 to come down at once. The next morning's mail brought 
 a shower of congratulatory letters from my friends among 
 the Bishops, and I accordingly departed for New York. 
 
 I confess, this matter came upon me as a surprise. Al- 
 though it had been so much talked about for the last few 
 months, I had doubted to the last moment whether any de- 
 cided action would be taken by the House of Bishops. 
 
THE APPOINTMENT. 5 
 
 Before this, too, going to California was a thing to dream 
 about ; now, it became a reality, and for the first time there 
 was forced upon me the consideration of how much I should 
 leave behind. Again, going as a Presbyter was a different 
 matter, as I could at any time resign and return. But, 
 going as a leader in "the consecrated host of God's elect," 
 seemed engaging in a contest from which there could 
 be no retreat. Upon talking to Bishop Whittingham he 
 said: — "You must go. They should have had a Bishop 
 in California three years ago, and if you do not go now, 
 they will not have one for three years to come. The 
 House of Bishops is breaking up, and we cannot elect any 
 one else. The responsibility of this will rest upon you. " 
 
 This was in fact summing up the matter. There was 
 no room for hesitation or discussion on my part. After 
 twenty-six Bishops had said it was my duty to go, all I 
 could do was to assent. 
 
II. 
 
 CONSECRATION. 
 
 When I look back to the election and consecration, eTery- 
 thing seems to me like a dream. The consecration was 
 over before I had recovered from the first effects of the sur- 
 prise produced by the election. 
 
 When I reached New York, I found the House of Bishops 
 on the point of adjourning. They had been in session about 
 three weeks and each one was impatient to get home to his 
 Diocese. They insisted, therefore, on the consecration at 
 once taking place. In fact, so hurried was this matter, 
 that I never received any official notice of my election nor 
 did I in any way send an acceptance. The Bishops talked 
 to me as if my going were taken for granted, and they acted 
 accordingly. 
 
 Our Presiding Bishop, — Brownell of Connecticut, — from 
 his age and growing infirmities, was too much exhausted 
 by the long sitting of the House to officiate at the consecra- 
 tion. As I was to be the first Missionary Bishop sent to 
 the Pacific, he appointed to act as consecrator in his place, 
 Bishop Kemper, the first Missionary Bishop ever elected in 
 our Church. It was an arrangement very agreeable to my 
 
CONSECRATION. 7 
 
 own views and feelingg, as Bishop Kemper had always been 
 a strong friend of mine; but it was attended with one disad- 
 vantage. As the senior Bishop present must consecrate, it 
 prevented all those who were above Bishop Kemper on the 
 list from being present. Bishop^Hopkins (Vermont), Doane 
 (New Jersey), and Otey (Tennessee), with a number of others, 
 were obliged to absent themselves, though in the city. 
 
 The consecration was appointed to take place in Trinity 
 Church, New York, the next week, on October 28th, 
 the Festival of St. Simon and St. Jude. The Bishops 
 who took part in the services were, Kemper (Wisconsin), 
 A. Lee (Delaware), Boone (Foreign Missionary Bishop to 
 China), Freeman (Arkansas), Burgess (Maine), Upfold 
 (Indiana), Whitehouse (Illinois), and Wainwright (New 
 York). Besides these, two clergymen were present from 
 our mother Church of England, and read the lessons. 
 These were the Venerable Archdeacon Trew, of Nassau, 
 West Indies, and Edmund Hobhouse, Fellow of Merton 
 College, Oxford, since appointed Bishop of Nelson in 
 New Zealand. The presentation of the candidate was to 
 have been made by my old friends, BishojDS Whittingham 
 and Wainwright. The former, however, was too ill to leave 
 his room, and Bishop Upfold was substituted. Bishop 
 Brownell appointed, to deliver the sermon, my brother-in- 
 law, Bishop Burgess of Maine. His discourse was from 
 I Thess. i. 5 — " For our Gospel came not unto you in word 
 only, but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and in much 
 assurance, as ye know what manner of men we were among 
 you for your sake. " From this eloquent production I must 
 make two extracts. The first is his description of Califor- 
 nia: — 
 
8 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 " In this foremost temple of tlie great mart and metrop- 
 olis of this new western world, we are assembled for a 
 work which cannot be without fruit in distant regions. 
 From this spot, and from the act which we are now to ac- 
 complish, the course, if Providence favors it, is straight to 
 the Golden Gate which opens towards eastern Asia. He 
 who shall enter there as the first Protestant Bishop, will see 
 before him the land which is the treasure house of this 
 Eepublic. Behind it are the vales and rivers and snowy 
 mountains, which are to our far west the farther west, and 
 amidst them lie the seats of that abominable and sensual 
 impiety,'the cry of which goes up to heaven, like that of Sodom 
 and Gomorrah, from the valley of the Dead Salt Sea. Still 
 beyond spread the deserts which divide, but will not long 
 divide, the Christians of this continent. Upon the edge of 
 this vast field he will stand when he shall place his foot on 
 the shore of the Pacific. There he is to labor, and there, 
 in the common course of Providence, are to be his life- 
 long abode and his grave. There he is to be occupied in 
 laying the foundations of a Church which must be a pillar 
 and ground of the truth for wide lands and for unborn 
 millions. While it retains and upholds the doctrine 
 and the discipline of the Apostles, it must pre-eminently 
 shine as a city set on an hill, and as a light of the world. 
 Pew of the issues can he live to witness. But, in the years 
 to come, if years are given him, he must recall the prospects 
 which opened upon him in this hour, and again when he 
 saw the coast of that Western Ocean." 
 
 The other is the conclusion, — the address to the candi- 
 date — which draws a picture of the difficulties to be en- 
 countered, which each year has since realized: — 
 
CONSECRATION. .^ 
 
 " And now, my dear Drotiier, now, more than ever before, 
 this work is to be made yours, with the highest responsi- 
 bilities, the largest sphere, the most various tasks, and I 
 will not refrain from adding, the most peculiar perils. 
 It is not the Episcopate alone, nor the Missionary Episco- 
 pate alone. It is an Episcopate to be exercised where fel- 
 low laborers are still to be gathered; where seminaries are 
 yet to be founded; where congregations are mostly to be 
 begun. There is no past on which you can lean; and 
 it is more than possible that around you will be little of 
 that support which we need and find among the incitements 
 and encouragements of well-established Christian communi- 
 ties. The minister of Christ whose charge is remote and 
 lonely, must walk with God, or sink into spiritual slum- 
 ber j for no mortal aid will fan continually the flame 
 upon his inward altar. You go where thirst for gold, im- 
 patience of restraint, the vices of adventurers, and all the 
 ills of unavoidable lawlessness, have been before you; where 
 the softening and instructive influences of old age and 
 of childhood, can, as yet, be little known, and where female 
 piety throws but a small measure of its familiar light over 
 the surface and the heart of society. A lover of the world, 
 a pleaser of men, a reed shaken by the wind, has nowhere 
 his place among the standard bearers of Christ; but least 
 of all, on such an outpost, beleaguered by such temptations. 
 But of the scene of your labors you will soon know much 
 more than any of us now understand from afar. There is 
 one armor, and but one, which will prepare you both to 
 defend your own soul, and to carry forward the banner of 
 Christ and of His Church. Many prayers ascend for you 
 in this housej they can ask for you nothing so needful and 
 
10 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 SO precious as an humble, steadfast, upright heart in every 
 change; for simplicity and godly sincerity will bear you 
 through all safe and successful. Of all things which are at 
 war with these, I say to you, in the name of the Church 
 which sends you, and in the words of the Apostle to an an- 
 cient Bishop, — ' O man of G-od, flee these things, and follow 
 after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meek- 
 ness. Fight the good fight of faith; lay hold on eternal Hfe 
 whereunto thou art also called, and hast professed a good 
 profession before many witnesses. I give thee charge in the 
 sight of God, and before Jesus Christ, that thou keep this 
 commandment without spot, unrebukable, until the appear- 
 ing of our Lord Jesus Christ. * We shall part at the table of 
 our Saviour, we who are assembled here from such various 
 and distant portions of His vineyard. My dear brother, 
 when the whole length and breadth of our vast country shall 
 lie between you and some who are nearest to your heart; 
 when it shall seem to you almost as if the grave had sepa- 
 rated you from those to whom you have so long ministered; 
 feel that you are belovedj feel that you are remembered in 
 daily and nightly prayersj feel that the whole Church ac- 
 companies you with its eager hopes; and be strong and 
 watch over your deeds and words and thoughts; that 
 through the grace of the Holy Spirit, you may be blameless 
 and faithful to the end, and that the word of God may have 
 free course and be glorified. And when all saints shall 
 be gathered at last, to sit down with Apostles and with pa- 
 triarchs in the Kingdom of Heaven, may we and many for 
 whom we labor, be numbered among those who shall come 
 thither from the east and from the west ! " 
 
 The day opened with a driving rain storm, which contin- 
 
CONSECRATION. H 
 
 ued through the morning. At noon, however, it cleared 
 and the sun came out brightly. The Church Journal gave 
 the following beautiful account of this change : — 
 
 "The weather was exceedingly unpleasant during the early 
 part of the morning, but after the consecration of the 
 Bishop, and as the Communion office was proceeding, the 
 clouds broke away, and a gleam of tinted sunshine fell upon 
 the altar and lighted up the sanctuary. This was beauti- 
 fully illustrative of the history of the Church in California. 
 The beginnings have long been overcast with storms and 
 clouds, overhung with darkness and gloom. But now that 
 a Bishop has been consecrated for her, and clergy will flock 
 with him to labor in the desolate places of that spirit- 
 ual wilderness, we doubt not that the clouds will ere 
 long break, and roll away, and the All-glorious Sun of 
 Eighteousness will shine cheeringly upon a land abundantly 
 bringing forth her increase." 
 
III. 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO ASPINWALL. 
 
 So anxious were the Bishops for lae to reach my field of 
 labor, that they pressed my immediate departure. I found 
 it, however, no easy work to break up all the plans of a life- 
 time and to prepare to go out to an entirely strange land j 
 yet less than a month was devoted to this. I was obliged 
 to spend the next week in a rapid visit to St. James' College, 
 Maryland, where I had promised to deliver the address 
 before the Literary Societies, the Commencement having 
 been postponed to this late period on account of sickness 
 during the summer. It, however, added much to the pleas- 
 ure of the journey to have the company o* my friend Mr. 
 Hobhouse. Then came two weeks of labor and packing at 
 Albany, with the pain of an auction that dispersed old 
 familiar household treasures which I could not take with 
 me. Then the leave-taking and the farewell sermon, and 
 on Monday I turned my back upon what had been my 
 home for fifteen years. Two days' visit to West Point, to 
 take leave of my son Lawrence, — a few days at New Haven, 
 at Mrs. Hillhouse's, where my wife was enabled to meet 
 with most of her family, — and we went to New York to 
 sail. My last clerical duty was on Sunday morning, the 
 
 12 
 
THE VOYAGE TO A SPIN WALL. 13 
 
 18th, when, in Trinity Church, New York, I preached an 
 ordination sermon for Bishop Wainwright. 
 
 Tuesday, Dec. 20th, found me on board the steamer George 
 Law, with my wife and my son WilKe. Troops of friends 
 were about us to say farewell, and with some it was our 
 last meeting in this world. Before a year had passed, 
 three of them had gone. Among those who stood with me 
 in the cabin, were Bishop Wainwright and the Rev. Charles 
 W. Halsey, Rector of Christ Church, New York, and a mem- 
 ber of the Committee for Domestic Missions. In a few 
 months both of these were in their graves, while my old col- 
 league in Albany, Dr. Horatio Potter, who was then with 
 them, was sitting in Bishop Wainwright's seat. Another, 
 too, who was there, the Rev. J. H. Hanson, was also shortly 
 numbered with the dead. He had come on board to hand 
 me his volume of " The Lost Prince " (in defence of the 
 claims of Eleazur "Williams to be the Bourbon), which had 
 that day issued from the press. The weather was dark and 
 gloomy, — a few inches of snow had fallen, and was lying 
 half melted on the ground, — no sunshine lighted it up, the 
 air was raw and chilly, with a leaden sky above, — and every- 
 thing seemed in unison with our feelings. 
 
 At two p. M. the steamer fired her gun, and the last 
 cable which bound us to the wharf was thrown off. As 
 we slowly glided out into the stream, and saw sorrowing 
 relatives and friends standing on the wharf and waving 
 their last adieus, we felt that our ties to home were broken 
 and we were fairly under way. It is easy to talk of sever- 
 ing the associations of a lifetime, and going forth to seek a 
 new home, *' not knowing the things that shall befall us 
 there "j but when it comes to the actual reality, and we 
 
14 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 catch our last view of the faces of friends sorrowing be- 
 cause they may see us no more, it becomes something 
 widely different. Yet the die was cast, and we could only 
 look to the shadowy future. 
 
 At five p. M. the engine was stopped for a few moments, and 
 a small boat came alongside to take the pilot off to his own 
 little vessel, which was dancing on the waves a short dis- 
 tance from us. Our steamer had previously been searched, 
 and tickets shown to find out those who had smuggled them- 
 selves on board. This is a necessary precaution before we 
 get to sea, particularly in these California vessels, as so 
 many, when funds are wanting, are willing to adopt any 
 measures to get to the land of gold. Two or three poor 
 wretches were detected and sent back in the pilot's boat. 
 As they were handed — not in the most gentle manner — 
 over the side of the steamer, we were aroused by terrific 
 shrieks, and found they proceeded from a poor German 
 who was being forced into the boat. He shouted and 
 yelled and clung to the railing, and in all my life I never 
 saw such a picture of agony and despair as was depicted 
 on his ghastly face. "I paid de ship; oh, mine goots, 
 mine goots, I leave mine goots. Mine comrade, mine com- 
 rade ! " he shrieked. " Put him off," sternly shouted the 
 captain. But just as his last hold was being unclasped 
 by the sailors, there was a rush through the crowd, and 
 another German appeared, holding out a ticket. It was the 
 missing document, just in time to save him. It seemed 
 that both their names had been placed on the same ticket^ 
 which was in charge of his comrade, the clerk had not 
 noticed it, and their ignorance of English prevented them 
 from making the proper explanations. No wonder he 
 
THE VOYAGE TO A SPIN WALL. 15 
 
 shrieked, when his " goots " were on board, and he was 
 about to be sent back to New York without friends or 
 means. 
 
 The first evening was dreary enough. It was excessively 
 cold, and there was no fire. Upon appealing to one of the 
 black waiters in behalf of the ladies, he gave us the com- 
 forting reply — " No fire aboard dis ship, 'cause you be 
 warm in two days." There were about seven hundred 
 passengers, the majority of them a very rough set. In 
 fact it cannot be otherwise, as most of those who flock to 
 California from all parts of the world are mere adventurers. 
 The unavoidable confusion of this crowd contrasts badly 
 with the order and propriety of our vessels to Europe. 
 There are about a hundred and fifty first cabin passengers. 
 As soon as they have finished a meal, the second cabin 
 passengers pour in to get theirs at the same table. 
 
 Then, too, there are thieves who go up and down in 
 these steamers for the purpose of stealing. The returning 
 Californians, who are supposed to be well supplied with 
 gold, are their particular victims. There is necessity, 
 therefore, for the most vigilant police. On the second day 
 out, a passenger's trunk was opened and rifled. The key 
 was found in the steerage, and a man whom a waiter had 
 seen at two o'clock in the morning in the first cabin was 
 arrested. He was stripped and examined by the captain 
 and purser, but nothing was found to convict him. The next 
 day, the mate arrested a steerage passenger who was load- 
 ing his revolver, as he said, to shoot another. The pistol 
 was confiscated and the man informed that if he indulged 
 in amusements of that kind, he should have summary 
 justice executed upon him. 
 
16 THE EARLY DAYS OF Ml EPISCOPATE. 
 
 In the first few days we had the most remarkable run I 
 have ever seen at sea. There were scarcely any waves or 
 wind, and everything about us was as calm as it could have 
 been on the Hudson river, presenting no possible induce- 
 ments to sea-sickness. Our progress has averaged about 
 two hundred and twenty miles a day. On board of a ship 
 " one day telleth another." "We lounge in the cabin, try to 
 read, and walk on the deck. A few, who have the entree 
 of Captain McGowan's pleasant stateroom on deck, gather 
 there, and hear from the old Californians wonderful stories 
 of the terrors of crossing the Isthmus. It is strange how 
 soon we get up a home feeling in the vessel and all its as- 
 sociations become familiar. There is, however, an entire 
 monotony. Mrs. Osgood, I believe it is, says, the only two 
 things which vary life at such a time are — 
 
 " Sometimes we ship a sea, alas! and sometimes see a sliip." 
 
 We went, one morning, under the direction of the Captain, 
 on an exploring expedition through the ship. We de- 
 scended by the narrow iron stairs story after story, until 
 we got below the surface of the water. There were the 
 immense boilers, and all around us the massive machinery 
 working as smoothly and quietly as possible, seeming, in 
 the results they produced, to be the very triumph of human 
 ingenuity. The two engines cost about $80,000. Thence we 
 went down into the crowded steerage. There, open berths 
 are ranged on each side, and they struck us, particularly 
 when we reached the tropics, as decidedly more comfortable 
 than our closed staterooms. Open portholes at the sides 
 and gratings above give air and light, while, owing 
 to the assiduous care of Mr. Howard, the first mate. 
 
THE VOYAGE TO A SPIN WALL. 17 
 
 perfect cleanliness prevails. I noticed life preservers 
 hanging on every side, of which the Captain told me there 
 were eight hundred on board. The whole place, too, seemed 
 vocal with music. There was a German who had several 
 hundred canary birds in small cages, which he was taking 
 out to San Francisco, where they will bring very high 
 prices. 
 
 The first cabin presents a curious appearance, of an even- 
 ing when the sea is quiet and all can be out. Dispersed 
 along the tables, which stretch the whole length of the 
 cabin, are perhaj^s a hundred men playing cards, though 
 all gambling is strictly forbidden. Many more passengers, 
 male and female, are scattered about, talking or trying to 
 read while a musician who has placed his notes on the 
 table is practising on the violin as coolly as if he were 
 in his own room alone. By ten o'clock, however, all 
 is quiet in the cabin, for no lights are permitted, after that 
 hour, in the staterooms. 
 
 Friday noon found us exactly in the latitude of St. Au- 
 gustine, and the air gave proof that we were rapidly draw- 
 ing near to the tropics. The little stove in the Captain's 
 room (the only one, by the way, in the ship), has been 
 taken down, and to-day the awnings are to be put up. 
 Overcoats are discarded, and the decks present a summer 
 scene. 
 
 The Festival of the Nativity dawned upon us as beautiful 
 a day as the imagination could conceive. There seemed 
 scarcely a ripple on' the sea, and not a steamboat on the 
 Hudson, in the month of June, passes over a smoother sur- 
 face. At 8 o'clock we made our first land, the little Island 
 of Maraguana, exactly as the Captain had predicted. At ten 
 
18 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 o'clock arrangements were made on the quarter-deck for 
 service, and I read the prayers of the Church and gave them 
 a Christmas sermon. We had a large congregation, 
 though very few Church people. It was pleasant to 
 be able thus, on the wide sea, to observe this Festival, and, 
 while we knew many prayers were offering up for us at 
 home, to send forth ours for the faithful everywhere. In 
 the afternoon I went forward to the steerage, and by means 
 of a colporteur, who was distributing tracts, arranged a ser- 
 vice. The passengers crowded around me in a circle, 
 and listened to the prayers I read and the address I made 
 them, which, with many, I fear, is the last they will ever 
 hear on that subject. About a hundred and fifty are go- 
 ing out as laborers on the Panama Kailroad, and half of 
 them, before six months have passed, will be in their graves. 
 I pressed on them this contingency as fuUy as I could, and 
 gave notice if any of them wished to see me during the 
 voyage, either for advice or in sickness, to send for me and 
 I would go to them. 
 
 The days now are growing longer. At half-past six the 
 sun had just set, and the west was covered with golden 
 clouds. The air was as warm as June, and in the evening 
 the passengers were all gathei),«d on deck, the brilliant con- 
 stellations in this southern sky rendering it as bright as 
 moonlight. And thus closed the Festival, as pleasant a day 
 as could be spent, were it not for the consideration of ab- 
 sence from those we hold dear. 
 
 Monday, 26th. Hot — hot! We passed the point of Cuba 
 in the night, and are now within sight of the hills of San 
 Domingo. A steamer is seen on the distant horizon, which 
 the Captain decides to be the Ycmkce Blade, that left 
 
THE VOYAGE TO ASPINWALL. 19 
 
 when we did. Flying fish are rising from the ocean about 
 us, and every one on board is giving evidence of the 
 effects of a tropical atmosphere. Keading is hard work, 
 and writing harder. In the afternoon we made Jamaica, 
 and until dark were running along the coast near enough 
 to see the trees and houses. It is a bold, mountainous 
 region, similar in appearance, we were told, to the Sand- 
 wich Islands. The eminences were wreathed at the top 
 with clouds, while a purple light from the setting sun 
 rested on the beautiful slopes. At six p. m. a canoe came off 
 and put on board a half-naked negro pilot. We were then 
 about forty miles from Kingston. At nine o'clock we reach ed 
 the entrance of the harbor, the remains of the old city of 
 Port Koyal, destroyed many years ago by an earthquake. 
 A couple of rockets thrown up brought off the health officer 
 and custom house official to discharge their duties, and 
 then we anchored for the night. 
 
 Sunday, 27th. At daylight we had before us the pros- 
 pect of this beautiful scenery, the high mountains back, and 
 the old city on a plateau at their base. The steamer weighed 
 anchor at six o'clock and went in three miles to the wharf. The 
 groups of cocoanut trees with their tufted toj)s made pict- 
 uresque features as they rose out of the gardens of the 
 city. Our first visitors were troops of negroes, who plunged 
 into the water to swim round the ship and dive for coins 
 thrown to them, a performance in which they never failed 
 to be successful, coming up with the money in their mouths. 
 In company with a few friends, I went on shore and took 
 bren,kfast at the hotel. In that delightful atmosphere, be- 
 fore the coolness of the morning had gone off, the breeze 
 blowing in through the open windows, our breakfast of 
 
20 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 coffee, rolls, eggs and oranges was a perfect luxury after a 
 "week at sea. 
 
 Kingston has an antique air, and at the same time marks 
 of a visible decay. The houses are all aJike, with large 
 piazzas and every contrivance for avoiding heat. Nothing, 
 however, but the arrival of a steamer infuses any life into the 
 place. The streets are crowded with the most wretched look- 
 ing negroes to be seen on the face of the earth. Laz}", shiftless, 
 and diseased, the men will not work since the Manumission 
 Act has freed them. Even coaling the steamer is done by 
 women. About a hundred march on board in a line, with 
 tubs on their heads (tub and coal together weighing about 
 ninety pounds), and with a wild song empty them into the 
 hold. The men work a day, and then live for a week on its 
 wage. The depth of degradation to which the negro popula- 
 tion has sunk, is, we were told, indescribable. The inhabitants 
 of Sodom were pure compared with them. " Once," said a 
 gentleman to me, " you did not see an untidy negro in the 
 streets. Now, look at them ! " — jDointing to a group of 
 squalid wretches. This is the unvarying testimony of the 
 residents. 
 
 Everything about the streets has a very tropical appear- 
 ance. Turbaned negro women are everywhere, offering for 
 sale the greatest profusion of fruits. We took a carriage 
 to drive into the country, stopping on our way at the 
 Parish Church, which happened to be open. It is a 
 venerable building in the form of a cross, the walls and 
 pavement covered with monuments of the old aristocracy 
 of the island, or of British officers who had died here. 
 The Kector, the Eev. Dr. Stewart, had not yet arrived 
 for service, but the sexton, having learned my name, in- 
 
THE VOYAGE TO A SPIN WALL. 21 
 
 formed him of our visit, and, just before we sailed, he came 
 down to the steamer to see me. It was too late, however, 
 to go on board, and he was obliged to merely send me his 
 card. 
 
 Just beyond the city is a fair country house, once occu- 
 pied by Santa Anna during one of his temporary exiles from 
 Mexico. The barracks, too, where the West India Kegiment 
 is quartered, are near the city. The Regiment is composed 
 of negroes under the command of British officers. The 
 privates, with their black faces and crimson uniforms, made 
 a curious appearance. 
 
 "We drove out to the residence of the Bishop, Aubrey 
 George Spencer. He is a grandson of Lord Spencer and 
 a descendant of the great Duke of Marlborough. Both the 
 Bishop and his brother, the late Bishop of Madras, had 
 visited the States, where I had become acquainted with 
 them. His residence is about four miles from the city, and is 
 the most beautiful place in the neighborhood. It was pur- 
 chased by the government for an Episcopal residence, but 
 has been given up by the Bishop for a college. I regret- 
 ted to find he was absent for health at his place farther 
 up the mountains, as it would have afforded me pleasure 
 to renew our acquaintance. The Rev. W. Hanford, of the 
 college, was there, who received us with the utmost cordi- 
 ality, and with whom we spent a pleasant half-hour. 
 
 The summer houses differ only in size. They have 
 broad verandahs, and the luxuriant gardens are often 
 fenced in with cactus, twelve feet high. The roads were 
 crowded with negro women on their way to market, their 
 fruit carried in large baskets on their heads, or on little 
 donkeys driven before them. On our way through town we 
 
22 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 stopped to see our consul, Col. Harrison. The old gentle- 
 man, now eigMy-four years of age, is, perhaps, the only man 
 living who had a commission from Washington. He is a 
 cousin of the late President Harrison, his room-mate at 
 school, and commissioned with him in the army. When 
 fifteen years of age, as he told uhs, being in England, he was 
 pressed for a sailor, and remained for several years on 
 British ships of war. At last, in the Mediterranean, there 
 came an old Admiral, who, before the Kevolution, when 
 stationed on our coast, had been entertained by his family in 
 Virginia. Young Harrison made himself known to him, and 
 was at once released and restored to his country. He had 
 now passed more than half a century in the West Indies. 
 Last year he visited New York, after an absence of fifty-two 
 years. What a change must he have witnessed ! It was 
 like dropping down on a new planet. 
 
 The Star of the West, which left when we did, has just 
 come in. She goes to San Juan for her passengers to take 
 the Nicaragua route. I went on board of her, but found no 
 familiar face. Among her passengers was Thomas Francis 
 Meagher, one of the expatriated Irish patriots, who, we 
 heard, was quietly shut up in the Captain's office. Being 
 on British ground, it was advisable for him not to leave the 
 protection of our flag. He is to deliver in San Francisco 
 a course of lectures on the Irish Orators. 
 
 We have an accession of passengers. Fifty coolies, im- 
 ported into Kingston from the East Indies, to work in 
 place of the negroes, are going to labor on the Panama 
 Railroad. Poor fellows ! they will probably soon find their 
 graves. At two o'clock the gun again fired, and, as before, 
 we swept out into a smooth and summer sea. 
 
THE VOYAGE TO A SPIN WALL. 23 
 
 December 29 th. For two days we have been sailing over 
 the Caribbean Sea. How the very name brings up the stories 
 I read in my bojdiood of the exploits of the bold buccaneers 
 in these waters ! The north star, night after night, is sink- 
 ing in the heavens, while on the edge of the horizon, 
 toward morning, we see the brilliant Southern Cross — that 
 emblem of our salvation — gemmed on the skies, on which 
 the old Spanish Cavaliers gazed with such mysterious awe. 
 To-night we expect (D. V. ) to reach AspinwalL 
 
IV. 
 
 PASSAGE OF THE ISTHMUS, 
 
 "We entered the harbor of Aspinwall late at night (Dec. 
 29th), and at sunrise ne-xt morning, from the vessel's deck, 
 had the whole landscape before us. It is a beautiful bay, 
 with a little straggling settlement of one street which curves 
 round in a semi-circle parallel to the edge of the water. 
 The steamers formerly landed at Chagres, nine miles dis- 
 tant; but this place has been substituted for it, because 
 at Chagres they were obliged to anchor some distance 
 from the shore, and landing in boats was not only difficult, 
 but also dangerous in stormy weather. Aspinwall has 
 therefore grown up at once, as a depot. It consists merely 
 of a few wooden hotels with imposing names, and residences 
 for those connected in any way with the steamer and rail- 
 road companies. Thick forests hem in the line of 
 houses, and cocoanut trees with their high tufts wave 
 over them and grow to the water's edge. It presents a 
 beautiful scene, and no one, in the warm and balmy atmos- 
 phere which was so grateful to us that morning — look- 
 ing forth on the deep green foliage, the golden sunlight 
 bathing everything, and the clear waters rippling to the 
 shore — would imagine that the air is loaded with miasma. 
 24 
 
PASSAGE OF THE ISTHMUS. 25 
 
 Yet SO it is, and, for health, it enjoys a reputation equal to 
 that of the coast of Africa. It is impossible, I believe, for 
 any one to reside here even for a few weeks, without being 
 prostrated by the fever, and sometimes a few days' deten- 
 tion, waiting for the steamer, will be sufficient to impart it 
 to the passengers. 
 
 When steamers stopped at Chagres, passengers were 
 poled up the river Chagres to Cruces, against a rapid cur- 
 rent, often taking three or four days, though they could 
 descend in a few hours. Now, the Panama Railroad, 
 which begins at Aspinwall, has partly obviated this 
 difficulty. It extends about twenty-five miles, and by next 
 autumn is expected to be carried through to Panama. 
 When this is done, one of the greatest inconveniences of a 
 passage to California will be over. The difficulty now 
 is, not only the risk and trouble of getting yourselves over the 
 Isthmus, but also your baggage. The safest plan is to send 
 it from New York by express. This, however, is expensive, 
 costing from forty cents upward a pound, from New York to 
 San Francisco. Then it is necessary that all articles 
 liable to be injured by water, such as silk dresses and papers, 
 should be enclosed in a tin box with the top soldered in 
 and with a light wooden covering; for the mules, in cross- 
 ing from Cruces to Panama, will sometimes lie down in the 
 water, and before they can be forced u]), trunks are 
 saturated. A person named Hinckley had recently estab- 
 lished an express from ship to ship, that is, from Aspin- 
 wall to Panama. He charged twelve cents a pound, and it 
 was probably the best and safest way for travellers to get 
 their personal effects through. He sold transit tickets for 
 the Isthmus, including railroad, boat and mule tickets, for 
 
26 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 thirty dollars eacli. Our whole expenses in crossing the 
 Isthmus, including hotel charges at Cruces, Panama, etc., 
 were about fifty dollars for each individual. This w^as 
 probably the fair average. 
 
 The El Dorado from New Orleans and the Yankee Blade 
 from New York came in, a few hours after we did. After a 
 bad breakfast on the steamer, we prepared to leave Aspinwall. 
 The train started at nine a.m., and that morning it consisted 
 of eleven passenger cars. The road leads through an un- 
 broken forest, part of it a wet marsh, but everywhere some- 
 thing new to us from the luxuriance of tropical vegetation. 
 The cocoanut, palm, and date trees were about us, while 
 occasionally there was some giant of the forest which 
 looked as if it had been attaining its growth since Columbus 
 discovered the country. Many of them were draped with 
 vines to the top, while the whole formed a dense thicket, 
 which seemed impenetrable. Beautiful flowers occa- 
 sionally bloomed in the forest; so that there was nothing 
 to remind us that it was the end of December. Every 
 few miles we found ourselves on the banks of the 
 Chagres Eiver, which winds round into all sorts of twist- 
 ings. Now and then we passed a native hut. It was al- 
 ways thatched with straw, sometimes without any sides, 
 perfectly open, or else with sides of light bamboo only. The 
 natives were lounging about, or reclining in their ham- 
 mocks, almost naked, fine specimens of the dohe far niente. 
 Occasionally, too, we saw groups of the Irish, who were em- 
 ployed as workmen on the railroad. They looked pale and 
 miserable, and reminded me of the wretched peasantry seen 
 in the vicinity of the Pontine Marshes in Italy. It is al- 
 most certain death to them to be employed here, and we 
 
PASSAGE OF THE ISTHMUS. 27 
 
 were told that every foot of the road, so far as it has been 
 finished, has cost the life of a laborer, and yet they are com- 
 ing out by hundreds to complete it. 
 
 At some little hamlet of the natives, between Barbacos 
 and Gorgona, the railroad at present ends. Here pas- 
 sengers Avere discharged on the top of a high, steep, 
 muddy bank of the Chagres Eiver. This was " confusion 
 worse confounded," and passengers, trunks, express bales 
 and all, were tumbled down to the river in a miscella- 
 neous mass. Here was lying a number of boats and 
 barges of various forms, in which we were to embark. Our 
 own was a broad, flat-bottomed boat, holding about thirty- 
 five persons, with a low, wooden awning over it, so that there 
 was just room to sit upright. On the outside was a broad 
 ledge, on which our six native boatmen walked up and 
 down from the bows to the stern, as, singing a monotonous 
 song, they p'^led the boat up the river. They were naked, 
 but for a little cotton cloth around the loins. The distance 
 was nine miles, and we were nearly five hours in accom- 
 plishing it; for the current was strong, and often we seemed 
 to make scarcely any progress. The scenery, however, was 
 wild and splendid, though the animal life which once 
 abounded has gone. The waters were formerly filled with 
 alligators, that basked in the sun, and the overhanging trees 
 gay with parrots and monkeys, chattering among the 
 branches; but the rush of Americans through this route, 
 with the constant discharge of their revolvers, has frightened 
 them into other retreats. 
 
 As on the railroad, we saw nothing but native huts, and 
 frequently passed women washing clothes on the banks. 
 After travelling about three miles, we reached Gorgona. 
 
28 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 This is the dividing point from which the other route 
 is made. From Gorgona there is a road to Panama, but 
 at this season it is hardly passable for mud, and travellers 
 are generally obliged to take that by Cruces, which is 
 twenty-three miles long. 
 
 Between five and six o'clock we came within sight of Cruces, 
 and were beginning to felicitate ourselves on our journey's 
 end, when the owner of the boat, who is called ihepatrone, dis- 
 covered that two or three of the passengers had not paid. 
 (They had in fact been directed by Hinckley to take the 
 boat and settle with him afterwards.) He therefore tool: 
 advantage of this and demanded of them more than double 
 the ordinary fare. This they of course refused to pay, 
 when he quietly stopped his boat on the opposite shore, 
 within a quarter of a mile of the town, and there we lay. 
 No attention was paid to the remonstrances of the thirty 
 passengers who had tickets, and for nearly an hour, with 
 the miasma of the evening gathering around us, we were 
 kept there, jeered at by the other boats as they passed. 
 Had there been a less respectable company on board, he 
 would have been pitched into the river and the boat poled 
 over; but it was filled with ladies and gentlemen, who finally 
 made a contribution and complied with his extortionate 
 demand. 
 
 We reached Cruces just at evening, to find that, in addition 
 to our own shipload of several hundreds, the hamlet was 
 crowded with returning Californians on their way over from 
 Panama. Cruce's has a population of a few hundred natives 
 end mongrels, all the original houses being the usual thatched 
 bamboo huts. There is an old dilapidated stone Church, 
 built two centuries ago by their Spanish conquerors, now 
 
PASSAGE OF THE ISTHMUS. 29 
 
 fast falling to decay. At one end of the town a wooden 
 tavern lias been hastily ran up. It has no glass in the windows, 
 and is about as enticing in appearance as the long shanties 
 erected for Irish laborers. This was our only stopping place. 
 AYe found it filled with hundreds of ruffians, and with great 
 trouble secured for the ladies a place upstairs containing 
 half a dozen beds. Here, they had at least a partial retire- 
 ment, though the noise within and without forbade all sleep. 
 The lower story was filled with long tables, which were 
 spread again and again for a succession of dinners, where 
 very many, with oaths and imprecations, as they struggled 
 for their places, got what they could at one dollar each. 
 The only chance for the decent portion was to get together 
 at one end, and procure something to eat, if possible. I 
 have taken my meals in many queer places when travelling, 
 but I confess never before under such repulsive circum- 
 stances. The company, the conversation, the dirt, formed 
 a union which, to the ladies particularly, was appalling. 
 
 But the worst was to come. At bedtime the gentlemen 
 of the party were showm to a large garret. The walls were 
 covered with wooden bunks three tiers high, two more rows 
 through the centre, and the intervals filled with cots. On each 
 of these cots and bunks was a single sheet, (which looked as 
 if it had been used for a year), no bed, but a pillow without 
 any case. Here we were to sleep with some two hundred 
 others, of the class we saw downstairs. We threw ourselves 
 down in our clothes, but sleep was out of the question. 
 All around us was one wild confusion, kept up through 
 the night. I have heard sailors talk in the forecastle, and 
 prisoners in the galleys, " but never aught like this." There 
 were not only the most awful blasphemies that human in- 
 
30 THE EARL V DA YS OF AIY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 genuity could devise, but the most foul-mouthed ribald- 
 ry that could be conceived by a perverted imagination. 
 They called each other " Texas," and "Bed River," etc., show- 
 ing which parts of the country had the honor of claiming 
 our associates. A party would rise from their beds, 
 and, under the dim lanterns which hung from the beams, 
 produce their brandy-bottles, and with oaths drink until 
 they reeled again to their bunks. Then a man would 
 treat the assembly to a tune on his fiddle, which was fol- 
 lowed by a round of applause, including all the low slang 
 calls of the pit and gallery. To make matters worse, next 
 to us was a pen (I can call it nothing else,) of boards about 
 ten feet high, intended to afford a private room for females. 
 This happened to be occupied by some *' women of the 
 baser sort," whose loud ribaldry infinitely amused the 
 kindred spirits on our side of the partition, who accordingly 
 replied to them in the same terms. Altogether, I set down 
 that scene as more like Pandemonium than anything I had 
 ever before witnessed. It was enough to convince one of 
 the doctrine of total depravity. 
 
 We endured it till about midnight, when my son and I 
 rose and wandered downstairs. Here, every place was 
 full, men sleeping on benches and under tables, till about 
 one o'clock, when a tremendous noise arose out of doors. 
 There was a rush, then were heard shouts and blows, and 
 oaths in Spanish, all ending in a regular fight which drew 
 every one to the doors and windows. It was the arrival of 
 some hundreds of mules, which were to take on the express. 
 It took an hour to load and get them off. At this time, too, 
 in one of the native houses near, a fandango was going on, 
 and singing and the music of castinets were united with the 
 
PASSAGE OF THE ISTHMUS. 31 
 
 other noises that *' murdered sleep." We secured some 
 chairs in which to sit, and thus passed the night at Cruces. 
 At three o'clock in the morning the tables were again 
 spread, and then commenced a succession of breakfasts,lasting 
 till all the assembled company had gone, some to Panama and 
 some to Aspinwall. At daylight we called the ladies and 
 paid our bill,— one doUar apiece lodging for those who had 
 bunks, and two dollars each for the ladies who were in the 
 ^rivaie rooms. The evening before, we had selected one of 
 the most decent native houses, and made a contract for 
 breakfast for five persons for six dollars, stipulating particu- 
 larly for a clean table cloth. Our host performed his part 
 well, and we felt better prepared for our long ride. 
 
 Then came a new scene of confusion, the selection of 
 mules. Hundreds were brought up and we who had Hinck- 
 ley's tickets selected from them as we could. But not be- 
 ing wise in the subject of mules, it proved to me a matter 
 of chance. Those I received for Mrs. Kip and my son 
 Willie were good; mine was miserable. The express bag- 
 gage is bound on mules, two trunks on each; six mules are 
 put under the charge of two natives, and so they set off in 
 small parties. The wonder to me is, that half the baggage 
 gets safely to Panama, as it is in the power of these natives 
 at any time to drive their mules to one side in the woods 
 and rifle the trunks. This undoubtedly is sometimes done; 
 for when we left Panama several mules had not yet arrived, 
 and the passengers had to go without their trunks, though 
 the express agent assured them, of course, that the miss- 
 ing baggage would probably soon be in, to be forwarded 
 by next steamer. 
 
 In this way, in small parties, the passengers set out from 
 
32 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 Cruces, and struggled across the Isthmus for the twenty- 
 three miles, as their mules' speed and bottom allowed. 
 With a first-rate mule, it may be pleasant, and those who 
 had one enjoyed it. The distance is thus passed some- 
 times in four or five hours; but to whip an obstinate mule, 
 as I did, for eleven hours, is quite a different matter. 
 
 As soon as we left Cruces, we plunged into the forest. 
 The road is but a narrow bridle path through the gorges 
 of the mountains, often just wide enough for a single 
 mule to pass, with high rocks rising twenty feet on each 
 side. Trees overhang it, and in some places it is so dark 
 that a Kentuckian present said, " it reminded him of the 
 entrance to the Mammoth Cave." It turns round sharp 
 angles, so that one halting behind, fifty feet, cannot be seen 
 by his party. Now, there is a high shelving rock to scram- 
 ble up, — then, one equally steep to descend; so that we 
 involuntarily shut our eyes, and do not pretend to guide 
 the mules. In these rocks there are often holes for the 
 mule's feet, into which he invariably puts them, for they 
 have been worn by the use of those who have passed over 
 the road for centuries before him. These deep ravines are 
 sometimes filled up to the mule's knees with mud and water. 
 Into this he dashes, splashing it over his rider, so that 
 when he reaches Panama he is in anything but a presentable 
 state. At times, the road expands into a broader space, 
 where there are a few native huts, or a Spaniard has a place 
 of refreshment for travellers. 
 
 There is some historical interest about this road. For 
 centuries it was an Indian path across the Isthmus. Then 
 the Spanish conquerors came, who improved it, paved it in 
 some places with heavy stones, and over this brought on 
 
PASSAGE OF THE ISTHMUS. 33 
 
 mules' backs all their treasures from Peru to ship them to 
 Spain. Since their day, it has been suffered to go to decay. 
 The heavy upturned stones form the danger of the road, 
 and if a mule loses his footing or goes down, it is at the 
 risk of his rider's limbs. The scenery, however, is mag- 
 nificent, and now and then we have a wide stretch of 
 landscape as we rise on the side of a mountain. 
 
 My party soon outrode me, and in the course of the day 
 I waa with four or five companies for a time. Most of the 
 day, however, I was alone. On one occasion I came up with 
 Mrs. Kip and our party, resting at a native hut. Finding 
 they intended to remain some time, I passed on, as my mule 
 went so slowly. I had hired a native to accompany me as 
 guide, to prevent my getting off the path j but after going 
 with me for a couple of miles, he deserted, and w^ent back. 
 Beaching the native hut, he was recognized by Mrs. Kip 
 and questioned as to why he had left me. He stated, 
 in reply, that I had got into a by-path and been mur- 
 dered. As such things do happen on the Isthmus, and 
 she knew I was alone and unarmed, it can be imagined 
 what an excitement was produced. The Spaniard at whose 
 hut they were stopping, and who, I afterwards learned, was 
 one of the greatest scoundrels on the Isthmus, did all he 
 could to augment her fears, that he might induce her to em-, 
 ploy him to send an express on to Panama. Fortunately, 
 just at that time, some returning Californians who were cross- 
 ing towards Cruces came up. They remembered me by the 
 description my party gave, and having seen me after the na- 
 tive had left, assured them that I must be safe. However, 
 they were left in the greatest uncertainty till they came up 
 with me, two hours later. 
 
34 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EFISCOPATE. 
 
 In the meanwhile I had gone on alone about six or seven 
 miles, whipping up my lagging mule till he and I were tired 
 out. Now and then some of our own passengers passed 
 me, or two or three almost naked natives, armed with their 
 machettes or long knives, but we only exchanged greetings. 
 Perfectly wearied, I thought I must be near my journey's 
 end, when, riding up to a little romantic river, I found some 
 of our passengers resting there, and learned that I had yet 
 six miles to go. Just then, others, who had passed Mrs. 
 Kip, came up and told us of her fright, and we waited till 
 she arrived. 
 
 I subsequently found that this travelling alone was a 
 foolish risk. The natives, once harmless, have become so 
 civilized as every month to be growing more dangerous and 
 untrustworthy. One of our passengers, who was alone, 
 was knocked senseless and stripped. The express party 
 found him in that state and brought him in. A lady who 
 got behind her party was robbed in the same way. My son 
 Willie, when at one time he had loitered out of sight of his 
 friends, met some natives who put their hands on him and de- 
 manded brandy, but finding he had none, let him go on. 
 No molestation, however, was offered to me. 
 
 A few miles from Panama we leave the mountains and 
 descend into the open country. Just outside of the city we 
 meet with massive ruins — the remains of former generations 
 — now entirely buried in the rank trojDical vegetation, 
 everything showing that a greater race formerly held the 
 country. 
 
 We straggled in, as our mules were able, at different 
 times. Willie got in with one party at half past three 
 o'clock. Mrs. Kip came in with another at five, having 
 
PASSAGE OF THE ISTHMUS. 35 
 
 sustained no injuries except from her fright, though her 
 mule had twice rolled with her. I reached Panama 
 alone, at six, perfectly wearied out. It was the hardest 
 day's ride I have ever had, worse even than the ascent of 
 Vesuvius. 
 
V. 
 
 VOYAGE UP THE PACIFIC. 
 
 My first view of the Pacific was from the high grounds 
 which overlook Panama. It would perhaps have been prop- 
 er to have got up a sensation on the occasion, but after 
 eleven hours spent on an obstinate mule, I was incapable of 
 any emotions but those of utter weariness. The prospect, 
 however, from that point was a fine one, with the cit3^ below 
 partly hemmed in by its old walls, and then the wide-spread 
 bay beyond. 
 
 The old city of Panama was some nine miles further south, 
 but after various sieges, and sacking by the buccaneers, it 
 was entirely abandoned, and the present city founded at the 
 head of the bay. 
 
 It possesses the advantage of being further from the 
 ocean, and in a place of greater security against attacks 
 from that side, as vessels of any size are obliged to anchor 
 at least two miles off. The old city, we were told, is entire- 
 ly in ruins. Dense forests have now grown up where 
 it stood, and all that can be seen among the crumbling 
 ruins is the old church tower rising through the foliage. 
 In this climate, when a place is once deserted, nature im- 
 mediately asserts her claim to it, and in a few seasons the 
 36 
 
yOVAGE UP HIE PACIFIC. 37 
 
 luxuriant tropical vegetation buries it as entirely as if cen- 
 turies had passed since the occupants were there. Any one 
 who has read " Stephen's Central America," will remember 
 this fact. We were told that at a very short dis- 
 tance from the side of our road over the Isthmus, were to 
 be found ruins of the kind described by him j but now en- 
 tirely concealed in the depths of the forest. 
 
 The present city of Panama, like all these old Spanish 
 cities in New Grenada, has the appearance of having been 
 built by an entirely different race from that which now in- 
 habits it. And such is the case. The old Spaniards who 
 erected these massive buildings have been succeeded by 
 degenerate descendantsof a mongrel race, without enterprise 
 or energy. They are contented to live in the residences of 
 their predecessors till they fall into ruins, but seem to have 
 not even the skill to repair them. Panama, indeed, be- 
 fore the emigration to California, had sunk down until it 
 was gradually dying a natural death. The rush of Americans 
 through it has galvanized it into a temporary animation; but 
 as soon as the railroad is finished, the depot of which will be 
 without the city, it will relapse into its former repose. The 
 walls around it, massive in their day, are now crumbling to 
 pieces, as is the fine old battery on the j)oint where some 
 enormous pieces of Spanish brass cannon are still mounted. 
 
 The greater part of the cit}^ seems at one time to have 
 been owned by churches or monasteries. Most of these 
 are in ruins, the wild vines growing over their walls. The 
 Cathedral of the Grand Plaza is a very large building, with 
 two high towers, and the front ornamented with statues of 
 saints in niches. It is built of a rich brown stone, but 
 the sides and towers have been whitewashed, for v/ant 
 
38 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 of energy to clear away the moss and dampness which 
 were gathering on the surface. We stopped for a few 
 minutes to see the interior, and found it wretched and taw^- 
 dry in the extreme. Mass was celebrating, and we noticed 
 that several of the assistants were natives, or showed very 
 plainly the mixed race to which they belonged. 
 
 The Aspinwall House, with its fine large rooms, remind- 
 ing us by their polished floors of a French or Italian ho- 
 tel, compensated for the miserable night at Cruces. It is on 
 the foreign plan, affording rooms only, while the lodgers go 
 out to a restaurant for their meals. The native population, 
 as the people in the south of Europe, seem to live in the 
 streets; and the general air of the houses, together with the 
 costumes of the richly dressed women we met, with the 
 black veils thrown over their heads, would have rendered 
 it easy for us to imagine ourselves in a city of old Spain. 
 
 It was New Year's Eve when we entered Panama, but the 
 weather was exceedingly hot, and the peculiarly oppressive 
 atmosphere was yqvj exhausting. Fortunately for us, a 
 ship had arrived a few days before, bringing ice from Sitka 
 in Eussian America, and we enjoyed what was a rare luxury 
 in Panama. Glasses of ice-water at one dime each were in 
 great demand at that time. 
 
 The next day wtis Sunday, although no one would have 
 suspected it from anything to be seen in the city. The in- 
 flux of the steamer's passengers was one of the harvests 
 of the shop-keepers of Panama, and every place of busi- 
 ness was open to enable them to avail themselves of it. 
 There is a service performed here for the benefit of the 
 few American residents, by a Congregational minister. He 
 called on me immediately after breakfast, and offered the 
 
FOVAGE UP THE PACIFIC. 39 
 
 use of his room, with a request that I would officiate; but 
 between the ride of the day before and the exhaustion of 
 the climate, I was in no condition to avail m^'self of his 
 offer. 
 
 Our steamer, the Golden Gate, was to sail in the evening, 
 and we were directed to be on board by five o'clock. At 
 four, therefore, we were on the wharf, where we found 
 some thirty passengers, baggage, etc., crowded into a launch, 
 under the guidance of a couple of natives, who were to 
 carry us out to the steamer, nearly three miles off. The 
 beginning of our voyage was by no means promising. Our 
 boatmen either did not understand managing the vessel, 
 or else she was too crowded to allow them to do so. When 
 about half way over the bay she jibed, the boom swept 
 across, and all managed to dodge out of the way, except one 
 lady, sitting next to me on the gunwale, who was 
 swept into the water. Then, for a few moments, all was 
 confusion, and the vessel left to herself, while the natives 
 yelled, the ladies shrieked, and the gentlemen shouted. In 
 the midst of all, the poor woman would have found her 
 way to the bottom, or been devoured by the sharks which 
 abound in the bay, had she not providentially become en- 
 tangled in some ropes dragging behind our launch. They 
 were thus able to reach her from the stern, and finally 
 succeeded in dragging her on deck. Then there was an at- 
 tempt to get alongside of the steamer which our boatmen 
 missed, succeeded by sundry other jibings, to the great 
 terror of the ladies, and then a tack or two more out into 
 the bay, before they were able to board her. 
 
 The Golden Gate is probably the most magnificent sea 
 steamer afloat. Since she came into the Pacific, she has 
 
40 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 been arranged in a style which would not have answered on 
 the more stormy Atlantic. An elegant saloon (one hun- 
 dred and four feet by twenty-four) has been erected on 
 her upper deck, lined with staterooms which open into a 
 gallery without. These staterooms are built over the 
 guards of the vessel, and project beyond its deck; an ar- 
 rangement which, it is obvious, although very pleasant, 
 would not answer in a sea liable to severe storms. 
 
 We went to sea at nine o'clock Sunday night, and for the 
 first week there was but little variety. We soon settled our- 
 selves down to our daily employments of reading and writ- 
 ing, until a home feeling was created. The principal busi- 
 ness of most, however, was to keep themselves cool, for the 
 weather was hot and summer clothes in demand. We were 
 some distance from the coast, though we occasionally saw 
 some point; the moonlight nights were beautiful, and the 
 Southern Cross just seen on the horizon. 
 
 Friday evening, January Gth. We reach the Bay of 
 Acapulco, Mexico. Here the steamer is obliged to stop, to 
 lay in her supply of coal. We went in at about nine 
 o'clock. It was almost as light as day, so that we were able 
 to see the features of this singular harbor. The channel 
 winds among some islands, turns one or two sharp angles, 
 until we find ourselves opposite the little town, when, look- 
 ing back, we cannot see the passage by which we have en- 
 tered. We are completely hemmed in by high hills and 
 seem to be floating in a little lake. The town itself is an 
 insignificant place on a narrow plateau at the foot of the 
 mountains, and is said to be the hottest place on the coast. 
 We found the air perfectly stifling, being entirely cut off 
 from the fresh breezes of the ocean. 
 
VOYAGE UP THE PACIFIC. 41 
 
 We have had some cases of Isthmus fever on board, but 
 none so far has ended fatally. Persons crossing the Isth- 
 mus are liable to fever if care is not taken, although my won- 
 der is that more are not prostrated by it. Many, just ar- 
 riving- from a cold climate, indulge at once in tropical 
 fruits, eat oranges, pine-apples, bananas, and even cocoanuts 
 which the natives hardly eat, and expose themselves to the 
 sun and the night air. Almost as pernicious as these fruits 
 is the water on the Isthmus, which should not be drunk 
 alone, for it is filled with decayed vegetable matter. The 
 fever is particularly fatal among the steerage passengers 
 (we had at one time twenty ill from this cause), who, in ad- 
 dition to other acts of imprudence, heat their system with 
 brandy. 
 
 The weather has been very pleasant, except some lit- 
 tle roughness when crossing the Bay of Tehuantepec, and 
 again in passing the three hundred miles at the entrance of 
 the Gulf of California. We were in this situation on Sunday 
 the 8th, yet I was sufficiently free from sea-sickness to 
 have service in the saloon in the morning. Every arrange- 
 ment was made by Captain Isham to facilitate this object, 
 and we had quite a numerous congregation assembled to 
 unite in the first public worship they had been permitted to 
 enjoy in this year. Thursday morning we made Cape St. 
 Lucas, and had our first view of Cahfornia. Everything so 
 far has gone on admirably. We have, one day, made as much 
 as three hundred and five miles in twenty-four hours, and 
 our Captain is in high spirits, expecting to make the short- 
 est run ever known. He looks forward to our breakfast- 
 ing in San Francisco, next Saturday morning. 
 
42 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 Wednesday, January 11th (I copy from my journal). 
 Last night came the reverse. At eight o'clock the engine 
 stopped, and on examination it was found that the massive 
 shaft, about twenty inches in diameter, had broken in tv/o. 
 Providentially we were thirty miles from the coast, with the 
 wind setting off shore. Had it been otherwise, with the 
 strong current there is drawing towards the land, we might 
 have shared the fate of the Independence, the America, 
 and the Winfield Scott, which, during the last two years, have 
 been lost upon these shores. As it was, we drifted off dur- 
 ing the night to the southwest, at the mercy of the winds 
 and waves; and so we have continued to do through the 
 whole of this day, till we are now very far off our course. 
 
 The Golden Gate has two engines; and for the last twent}'- 
 four hours every effort has been made to remove a portion 
 of the broken shaft, so as to allow her to use the other side, 
 and get under way with one wheel. She has been listed 
 over on one side, as far as possible — to the terror of most 
 of the passengers, who supposed she was going to capsize 
 — to cut away the buckets of the starboard wheel, which 
 otherwise would drag in the water and impede her. 
 
 At daylight, the Uncle Sam, which left Panama with us, 
 came in sight, and seeing our situation, ran down to 
 within a quarter of a mile of us. She could do nothing, 
 however, to help us, for as the sea was running, it would 
 have been difficult to have taken off our passengers, and 
 she therefore stood off again to the north and left us. 
 It was a beautiful sight to see her pitching about on the 
 waves, plunging her bowsprit under, and then rising so as 
 to show a long line of her keel. 
 
 During the morning the sea went down, and we have 
 
l^OYAGE UP THE PACIFIC. 43 
 
 done nothing all day, but drift — drift to the west. The 
 Captain estimates that we have drifted about thirtj'-five 
 miles farther off coast. In the direction we are goinpr, we 
 should bring up one of these days at the Marquesas Islands. 
 We are not by any means in a j^leasant situation. If we 
 get under way, with one wheel, we can work our way in 
 slowly, over the nine hundred miles of ocean yet to be 
 traversed. If any accident should happen, and the re- 
 maining wheel be disabled, what is to be done? Our sails 
 are too light to produce much effect, and we should have 
 to wait for a favorable breeze and try to get in to shore, to 
 anchor in some place of safety until relieved. Besides, 
 there are between nine hundred and one thousand per- 
 sons on board, and the steamer has not provisions for a 
 protracted voyage. The Captain has to-day taken meas- 
 ures to guard against this contingency. We have been put 
 upon two meals a day, breakfast and dinner j tea is abol- 
 ished. Some of the ladies, as usual at twelve o'clock, 
 sent one of the waiters to the pantry for lunch, when 
 he came back with the announcement, — "Lunches is 
 stopped." 
 
 Thursday, 12th. A quiet, idle day. The engineers are 
 working at the machinery, in the hope of getting un- 
 der way in a few days. The passengers are yawning, 
 sleeping, playing cards from morning till night, trying 
 to read, or discussing our j^rospects for the future. The 
 water is as smooth as a mill-pond, and we are slowly going 
 westward with the drift of the ocean, for there is no wind. 
 It seems strange to see this magnificent steamer, that lately 
 dashed so rapidly through the sea, floating along so help- 
 less and disabled. We are now served with salt water 
 
44 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY E PI SCO PA TE. 
 
 for wasliing. Fresh water is to be used for drinking only, 
 as it may be necessary to husband our resources. AYe 
 are provisioned, the Captain says, for twelve days, and by 
 putting us on allowance our stores could last much longer. 
 
 Dolphins and sharks have been playing about the ship 
 all day. One of the latter was so close to the surface that we 
 could see the pilot fish which always accompanies it, swim- 
 ming at its side. The sea is alive with shoals of porpoises, 
 while at a distance we saw a number of small grampus 
 whales. During the evening there was a large whale not 
 far from us, as we could hear him blow when he rose 
 to the surface. It was bright moonlight, and we sat in the 
 gallery by our staterooms till a Inte hour, watching the 
 stars set, one by one, as if their light were quenched in the 
 waste of waters about us. 
 
 Friday, 13th. It is rather amusing to hear the opinions 
 of the passengers as to the cause of our accident, and their 
 prophecies of the future. One Sx^anish gentleman thus 
 agreeably sketched out our programme : — 
 
 " Fust, dere will be hungry 5 den, dere will be no sugar 
 water." 
 
 "But" — said some one, — "there's plenty of sugar on 
 board." 
 
 " Ah ! I mean de water dat is not salt, for de drink and 
 de shave. Den, dere will be no wine. Den, de machinery 
 is fix, an — he no go." 
 
 Monday, 16th. We kept on drifting until Saturday even- 
 ing, when it was announced, to the great joy of all, that the 
 machinery was partially repaired, so that one wheel could 
 be used. Since then we have been heading for San Diego, 
 the most southern point of Northern California, about five 
 
VOYAGE UP THE PACIEIC. 45 
 
 hundred miles distant. It is, however, slow work. In the 
 last twent^^-four hours we have made about one-hundred 
 and eight miles. Everything now depends upon this one 
 wheel, and another accident would leave us without re- 
 source. We hope (D. V. ), to get to San Diego by Wed- 
 nesday morning, and then the Captain can determine by 
 the state of the steamer, whether to go on with her or 
 to wait until another steamer is sent from San Francisco 
 (four-hundred and fifty miles distant), to bring us up. 
 
 In the meanwhile, provisions are growing scarce, and we 
 have been put on an allowance of water. Part of a tumbler- 
 full is given to each one at dinner, none of which is to betaken 
 from the table. Sunday morning a committee from the four- 
 hundred passengers in the steerage came to the Captain 
 to demand an increase of food. Upon his refusing to com- 
 ply, they warned him, that " there were some dangerous 
 men in the steerage." He thanked them for their informa- 
 tion, " as in case of any trouble he should know how to deal 
 with them." Some of the cabin passengers, however, find 
 it rather long to go without anything to eat from two p. m. 
 till eight A. M. the next day, with the keen appetite people 
 have at sea. 
 
 Early this morning we x^assed within a mile of a whaler, 
 which sent a boat off to us to procure papers. She was 
 from New Bedford, and had been out somewhat over two 
 years, having on board three thousand barrels of oil. Tbe 
 boat passed under our quarter, and the papers which could 
 be collected were thrown to it. They will be read and re- 
 read, advertisements and alL We have again got back to 
 the coast, having made land in the afternoon, and are now 
 in the track of the steamers, so that we may meet the 
 
4G THE EARL Y DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 John L. Stephens, which leaves San Francisco this morn- 
 ing. 
 
 Tuesday, 17th. We have been, for the last few days, getting 
 slowly forward. Providentially the weather has been calm, 
 and we are approaching San Diego, where we can jDrocure 
 provisions to add to our stock. It is evening, and the 
 headlands show that we are not many miles distant. The 
 Captain says we shall reach the harbor about midnight, 
 and we seem therefore to have come to the end of another 
 stage in our protracted voyage. 
 
yi. 
 
 WRECK OF THE ^^ GOLDEN GATE." 
 
 We entered the harbor of San Diego at about one o'clock on 
 Wednesday morning, the 18th. It was a cahn and beauti- 
 ful day, that dawned upon us with the softness of atmos- 
 phere characteristic of this climate. The air was as warm 
 as that of June. On coming on deck, at sunrise, we found 
 ourselves in a deep bay, around which we looked in vain 
 for the town of San Diego. The landing, or Fla^a, oppo- 
 site to which we had anchored, has only three or four 
 houses, including a drinking-shop and the Custom House. 
 Along shore stand some old hide houses, mentioned by Dana 
 in his "Two Years Before the Mast," which, at that 
 time, were the scene of his labors. On the rising ground 
 behind them are some thirty or forty graves, with a wooden 
 paling to each, most of them being the last resting-places 
 of our countrymen who had died on board the steamships 
 which stop here. The town of San Diego is about four 
 miles distant, at the head of the bay, but almost concealed 
 from view at the Plaza, by the rising ground which inter- 
 venes. 
 
 The Captain, at daylight, rode up to the town, and suc- 
 ceeded in procuring about fifteen miserable bullocks, for 
 47 
 
4:8 THE EARL Y DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 wliicli fifty-five dollars apiece were paid, the proper value 
 being from twenty to twenty-five dollars. They were driven 
 down to the beach, killed, and taken on board, with some 
 other provisions hastily collected; so that by noon we were 
 ready to sail. 
 
 At three o'clock they got uj) steam, and we prepared to 
 leave the harbor. About the same time, a small steamer, 
 the Goliah, trading between this place and San Francisco, 
 which also had arrived early in the morning, weighed her 
 anchor and set out on her return. While the Golden Gate 
 was swinging around by a hawser from an old hulk an- 
 chored near the shore, the cable broke, and w^e were left in 
 the stream, before she had headed the right way. Down we 
 floated, sometimes sideways, sometimes straight, the single 
 wheel which could be used not having power enough to 
 bring her round. The channel is narrow and winding, 
 with a reef of sand near the entrance of the harbor. Un- 
 der all these difficulties, the Captain managed the vessel, 
 as all allowed, in a masterly way, availing himself of every 
 eddy to sweep her around, until we were five miles from 
 the landing, and apparently just entering the ocean. Just 
 at this moment, the tide carried her around, and we felt 
 her stern slightly strike the bar. With full power in the 
 engine, she would at once have been freed, but with one 
 wheel this was impossible. The engine could not act upon 
 her with sufficient force; and after striking several times, 
 she grounded firmly, with her bow swinging clear. 
 
 The Golidh was at this time about a mile from us. 
 Our flag was at once run up with the union down, as 
 a signal of distress, and she came to us. A boat was sent 
 off to her with a heavy hawser, and her engine was put in 
 
WRECK OF THE ''GOLDEN GATE:' 49 
 
 motion to drag us off. After straining the hawser to its ut- 
 most capacity, without moving us, it suddenly parted. An- 
 other was sent off, which also snapped, in a short tiu^e, 
 with the same ill success. The tide at this time was rapidly 
 falling; and it became evident that it was of no use at present 
 to repeat the experiment. Captain Haley (of the Goliah) 
 therefore sent word that he would return at evening, 
 when the title rose, and could then probably succeed in 
 bringing us off. 
 
 With the close of the day, most unexpectedly came signs 
 of a change of weather. The sea became very rough, and 
 the swell of the surf around us gave token of a wild night. 
 The Goliah, however, which was anchored near us, about six 
 o'clock took another hawser, and for some time renewed the 
 attempt. But after several efforts, which produced no ef- 
 fect, the cable broke like the others. Seeing it to be a 
 hopeless case, with the storm every moment increasing, and 
 the sea then so high that no boat could pass between the 
 two steamers, the Goliah abandoned us, and went up the 
 harbor, to take refuge for the night at an anchorage j^ro- 
 tected from the wind and sea. 
 
 Some six months afterwards, I had occasion to go with 
 Captain Haley in his steamer, from San Francisco, down 
 the coast to Monterey. I asked him what he thought of ua 
 that evening, when he went off. He said, " that for two 
 hours he thought of nothing but himself, that he had never 
 been in such a hurricane, he could not see his course, and 
 did not know to that day how he found his way up the 
 harbor. When, however, he had time to think of us, he 
 gave up all hope of ever seeing us again." 
 
 As the hawser parted, the gale struck us with its full vio- 
 
50 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 lence. It was utterly unlike anything I had ever experi- 
 enced. It seemed to grow dark at once. It was indeed 
 one of those tornadoes which occur but once in twenty 
 years on the Pacific, but which when they do come are fear- 
 ful in their strength. As it struck the Golden Gate, the steam- 
 er swung round, and was dashed broadside upon the reef, 
 in the very midst of the breakers. We were then about a 
 mile and a quarter from shore, surrounded on all sides by the 
 breakers, the night exceedingly dark, and the sea sweeping 
 over us. The rain, too, was falling in sheets, while the 
 gale had broken upon us with hurricane violence. I have 
 been in some of the worst storms of winter, off the coast 
 of France, and was once in one of those terrible gales, 
 which briefly, but with such violence, sweep over the Medi- 
 terranean, but I never witnessed anything, in its effects, 
 equal to this. Nor is this opinion the exaggeration of my 
 own fears, arising from our perilous situation. We were 
 told afterwards, by those on shore who were residents 
 here, that they had not for years experienced a storm equal 
 to it in violence. While at one time the waves swept over 
 us, at another, as they dashed by us in huge masses, seeth- 
 ing in foam as far as we could see, the whole surface of tho 
 ocean seemed flattened down by the violence of the wind. 
 
 Another difficulty of our situation arose from the fact, 
 that we had nearly one thousand persons on board. Most 
 of these, from character and want of self-discipline, could 
 not exert over themselves the control necessary at a crisis 
 of danger, when the strict government of a ship-of-war was 
 requisite. When, therefore, our shij^ first went upon the 
 reef, as she keeled over on one side, throwing passengers 
 and everything movable to the windward, there was such a 
 
WRECK OF THE '' GOLDEN GATE:' 51 
 
 scene of terror as I never before had witnessed. The crowd 
 rushed wiklly into the great saloon, chnging to everything 
 ■which could prevent falling, and exhibiting every possible 
 variety of character. 
 
 And then, every few moments the sea would raise the im- 
 mense mass and throw it still farther among the breakers, 
 where it would come down with a crash. This was repeated 
 again and again, and followed by a cracking and straining 
 beneath our feet, which seemed to the uninitiated as if it 
 were parting at midships. Then every one would hold his 
 breath for a minute or two, till he saw whether the ship 
 were going to pieces, and when he found she had survived 
 that shock, would catch it again with a long gasp. Every 
 time, too, that she thus struck on her side, there would 
 be a wreck of everything breakable, the very noise of 
 which added to the confusion and fear. Even the dining 
 tables and settees, which were clamped down with strong 
 iron fastenings, were torn up and hurled to the other end 
 of the saloon. 
 
 The question, indeed, on which everything in regard to 
 U3 rested, was, whether or not the steamer was strong 
 enough to bear all this thumping through the night, without 
 going to pieces. Had it broken up, few of us could have 
 reached the shore, from which we were more than a mile 
 distant, with wild breakers intervening. As it was, provi- 
 dentially for us, our steamer was built with the strength of 
 a frigate. The Captain, next morning, said, that "there was 
 not another steamer on that coast, that could have left at 
 daylight more than a few planks scattered along the shore." 
 A shipmaster, too, who was at the landing, told us he 
 watched us through the early part of the night, by the 
 
52 THE EARL Y DA YS OF MY E PISCO PA TE. 
 
 lights dancing up and down as the vessel struck, and 
 finally went to bed with the feeling that before morn- 
 ing we should be entirely broken up. With those 
 indeed who realized that this was likely, it was a fearful 
 night. 
 
 There was another danger, too, even if she held together, 
 which was foreseen and feared by those who were experienced 
 in such matters. The steamer (as I have stated in a previ- 
 ous chaper), has an upper saloon, the staterooms of which 
 are built on the guards, which extend ten feet over the 
 sides, and form, therefore, the floor of those rooms. At one 
 o'clock in the morning, the sea commenced tearing up these 
 guards, as she lay over on the windward side, so that as the 
 waves breached over her, they dashed through the state- 
 rooms into the saloons. As she was settling more and more 
 on that side, it was feared that the staterooms and upper 
 works would be entirely carried away, when the sea would 
 necessarily pour down into the lower cabin and fill it. In 
 this case, even if she held together, the thousand persons 
 on board would ba driven forward, to take their stand at 
 the bow, a place which afforded hardly foothold for such a 
 crowd. 
 
 Attemj)t3 were made during the night to right her, by 
 getting up some sails, but they were at once blown to rib- 
 bons, and the foremast cracked in such a way as to be use- 
 less. The engine was kept going, to avail ourselves of any 
 favorable change in the position of the vessel, until the 
 water rose to the furnace gratings, when the fires were nec- 
 essarily put out. The passengers were then all summoned 
 to take their stand upon the starboard guards, to try and 
 trim her by the counterbalance of their weight. There 
 
IVRECK OF THE ^'GOLDEN GATE:' 53 
 
 they remained for hours, exposed to all the storm, and 
 drenched to the skin. 
 
 And thus the night, — to many the most anxious they had 
 ever passed — wore away. Our hope was, that when, towards 
 morning, the tide turned, the gale, as frequently hap- 
 pens, would abate. I confess, I never in my life so often 
 consulted my watch, or looked so earnestly for the dawn of 
 day. About three o'clock, after some thumping and strain- 
 ing, the steamer seemed gradually to right herself, so that 
 one danger was lessened. Why this favorable change oc- 
 curred, I have never found any one able to give an explana- 
 tion. Probably, as she was driven further upon the reef, 
 she worked her way down into the sand, and got into a 
 more even position. Happily for us, the reef was entirely 
 of sand, for had there been a single rock beneath her, she 
 would have gone to pieces in two hours. Towards morn- 
 ing, as we had hoped, the gale abated. Looking over our 
 beautiful saloon, more than a hundred feet long, I was 
 struck with its changed and desolate aj^pearance. It was 
 thoroughly drenched, as the sea had swept through it ; 
 while tables and settees were torn up and piled against the 
 openings which the waves had made. On the floor, the 
 passengers were lying in every attitude, having sunk into 
 sleep from utter exhaustion. 
 
 There is one consideration, however, connected with this 
 night, which we could not but bear in mind. It is admitted 
 by all with whom we have conversed, that our grounding 
 on the Zuninga Shoal was providential for us, and probably 
 saved the lives of hundreds. Had we not done so, we should, 
 in a few minutes more, have passed Point Loma, and been 
 out to sea. It would have been impossible for us to have 
 
54 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 made oifing enough to have been clear of the coast 
 before the gale struck us. With the comparatively little 
 power "we possessed, we could not have kept off the 
 land, and would probably have gone ashore some distance 
 farther up the rocky coast. In that case, the immediate 
 destruction of the vessel, and of course of the greater 
 part of the passengers, would have been inevitable. 
 
 When the next morning dawned, the v/ind had abated, 
 and the gale had evidently passed over, though the sea was 
 still exceedingly high. At eight o'clock, the GoUaJi came 
 down to within a mile of us; but after reconnoitering our 
 situation, and seeing that she could be of no use to us, she 
 returned up the harbor. It vras evidently impossible for 
 her to hold any communication with us, as we were at least 
 a hundred yards upon the shoal, and entirely surrounded 
 by breakers, among w^hieh a boat could not live. Great, 
 therefore, as was naturally the desire of the passengers to 
 get to land, they found they must wait till the sea went 
 down, and probably spend another night on board. The 
 day, howcA^er, passed quietly; for the steamer seemed to 
 have become so firmly bedded in the sand, that the return 
 of high tide did not move her, or lift her so as to renew her 
 thumping. It was evident, too, that she had filled with 
 sand and several feet of water, which tended to keep her 
 more steady. She was what sailors call " hogged.'' 
 
 During the next night, which, providentially for us, was 
 perfectly calm, she did not move in her position, except to 
 list over farther on her side. This was probably caused by 
 the shifting of the water in her; and towards morning, the 
 sea having gone down, the guns of the steamer were fired, 
 as a signal to the shore. This brought down the Goliah, 
 
WRECK OF THE ''GOLDEN GATE.'' 55 
 
 and the Southerner (which had arrived the day before from 
 San Francisco); and, the breakers having subsided, their 
 boats were all put into requisition to remove the passen- 
 gers. In the course of the morning this was safely effected, 
 and we were all crowded into the other two steamers. We 
 left our noble vessel with deep regret, as we beheld her ly- 
 ing over on her side. It was reported she had five feet of 
 water, and that the pumps were out of order. The general 
 opinion, among those acquainted with such matters, was 
 that she had bilged, and it would probably be impossible 
 to get her off; an opinion, which the result happily did not 
 warrant. 
 
 In the afternoon, after taking on the passengers, with a 
 portion of the baggage, the Goliah and Southerner returned 
 up the bay to their former anchorage, and before night all 
 were safely landed on the Plaza, rejoiced once more to set 
 foot on terra firma. 
 
VIL 
 
 SAN DIEGO. 
 
 "When we landed from the Golden Gate, the usually quiet 
 shore of San Diego presented an unaccustomed scene. In- 
 stead of a solitary individual moving here and there, nearly 
 a thousand people were scattered about the beach. And a 
 most desolate looking and feeling company we were ! As 
 many as possible had taken refuge under the few roofs 
 there were, while the rest were in parties on the shore, 
 seated on their trunks and wondering what they should do 
 for the night. The hills back of the Plaza are covered with 
 low straggling bushes, as far as the eye can reach, with- 
 out a single tree, and therefore furnished no fuel as a 
 means of cooking for the crowd which had been fasting 
 since morning. I afterwards learned there was much suf- 
 fering through that night. Many had of course to camp 
 out in the open air, while ladies, who were fortunate 
 enough to obtain a shelter, found that this was all they had 
 secured. It was generally an entirely vacant room, with 
 nothing in the shape of bed or bedding. In addition to 
 hunger, we suffered from cold, for though the days 
 at this season are warm, the nights are chilly, particu- 
 larly for those whose resting-place is the bare ground and 
 56 
 
, SAN DIEGO. 57 
 
 their covering the canopy of heaven. Some walked up to 
 San Diego, four miles distant, but the majority remained 
 where they were, making bonfires of the old hide houses, 
 and of everything which could be torn down. They had 
 not even water to drink, for the place furnishes none, 
 and all that is used here is brought from the town. 
 
 Towards evening a steamer was seen coming in, which 
 proved to be the Columbia from San Francisco. On the re- 
 port of the Uncle Sam, that she had spoken us, lying-to, 
 disabled in a rough sea, it was naturally supposed that we 
 would get into some place to refit. The Columbia was 
 therefore at once despatched by the agents of the company, 
 with a hundred picked men and the proper machinery for a 
 wreck. The Captain had instructions to look into every port 
 on her way down, until he found us, and to render us any 
 assistance we might need. Her arrival certainly was most 
 opportune. The Southerner and Goliah sailed next morn- 
 ing, with such passengers as chose to go in them, having 
 been chartered by the company for that purpose. As they, 
 however, were small and excessively crowded, our own 
 party were advised to remain and await the departure of 
 the Columbia, which would go in a few days, after doing 
 what she could for the Golden Gate. 
 
 As it was, " the lines had fallen to us in pleasant places." 
 It was my good fortune to recognize in the United States 
 collector at the Plaza, Mr. Bleecker, an old New Yorker, who 
 promptly took ever}^ step necessary for our comfort. Our 
 luggage was placed in his storehouse, while he at once 
 mounted his horse, and rode up to San Diego, to charter a 
 large wagon to take us thither. Mr. Bleecker returned to- 
 wards evening, with an invitation from Don Juan Bandini, 
 
58 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 for our party to partake of bis hospitality. Our road 
 wound around the border of the bay, and after crossing the 
 bed of a river, which at this season is nothing but dry sand, 
 though a month later it will be a rapidly-rollmg stream, 
 at about eight o'clock we reached our destination. 
 
 " My party " — which Don Juan invited — really consisted 
 of Mrs. Kip and my son; but some of our steamer friends, 
 hearing there was an opening for obtaining lodgings, at 
 once joined us 'and mounted the wagon. I scarcely knew 
 what to say to them, when I found that " my party," chil- 
 dren included, amounted to nearly a dozen. Our host, how- 
 ever, gave us a most hospitable welcome. An admirable 
 supper in the Spanish style— for f27?fl5 and frijoles of course 
 included, with native wine from his own ranch— made 
 amends for the day, while comfortable beds compensated 
 us for the last two nights of wakefulness on the steamer. 
 Don Juan is the leading man in this part of California. 
 Belonging to an old Spanish Mexican family, he has re- 
 tained much of his landed possessions, and the vast herds 
 of cattle, which in this country constitute wealth. He has 
 a number of ranches (or farms), in this State and in the 
 Mexican province of Lower California, one of which was 
 mentioned as covering eleven leagues. We were told that 
 his son-in-law, during the past year, had sold, from one of 
 his ranches, three thousand head of cattle, at sixteen dol- 
 lars each, and that he could continue doing this, year after 
 year, without diminishing his stock. This is a specimen of 
 the nature of California wealth among the old Spanish in- 
 habitants. 
 
 Until the coming of the Americans, these people led 
 a life of ease and quiet, in the midst of the fullest abun- 
 
SAN DIEGO. 5fj 
 
 dance of everything they could desire. Kind hearted and 
 hospitable, their houses were always open to strangers 
 who were worthy of their confidence. Their lives were spent, 
 indeed, in idleness, for, in this cHmate and with this soil, hut 
 little was demanded of them. The Indian population fur- 
 nished them with servants, and their time was passed in 
 those amusements which their fathers had brought with 
 them from old Spain. Then came our countrymen, who 
 robbed their ranches, seized theu- lands; and drove them 
 to the wall. At the very time that Don Juan was showing 
 this unbounded hospitahty to a party of American stranger^, 
 who had no claim upon him— several of whom could not 
 even speak his language— his son arrived from one of his 
 ranches on the other side of the line, ninety miles distant. 
 He had ridden in on a single horse in one night, to 
 announce to his father, that Walker's company of filibusters 
 had killed the cattle, driven off the horses, and completely 
 stripped the ranch. And this is not by any means the first 
 time he has been thus plundered. 
 
 His residence at San Diego, at which we have now been 
 domesticated for nearly a week, is just on the edge of the 
 town. It is built in the Spanish style, around the sides of a 
 quadrangle into which most of the windows open, and is only 
 one story high, with massive walls of adobes (sun-dried bricks). 
 Everything here is conducted with such ease that we feel as 
 much at home as if we had lived here for months. Nothing 
 is omitted that could conduce to our comfort, and in the 
 elegance with which the Seriora Bandini presides over her 
 household and entertains her guests, we found our ideas of 
 the grace and dignity of the Spanish ladies fully realized. 
 San Diego is a little Spanish town of about a thousand 
 
60 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 inhabitants, built in a straggling style, and with a perfectly 
 foreign air. The houses are mostly constructed of adobes, 
 except that here and there some white painted, clapboard 
 shop tells us of the occupancy of one of our countrymen. 
 As usual, the town is built around a large Plaza, where 
 the population, Spaniards and Indians, wrapped in their 
 ample mantles, sun themselves and lounge; and here, 
 on Sundays, are their amusements. Through the week, 
 however, it is as quiet as possible. The climate is de- 
 licious, said to be the most healthy on the coast, re- 
 minding me indeed of that of Naples. The people do 
 not seem disposed to show any activity, except when 
 on horseback. Now and then some cavalier, mounted 
 on a fine horse, dashes across the Plaza, lasso in hand, 
 his huge spurs and stirrups jingling as he goes. The 
 American population, is gradually coming in, and in a few 
 years the place will lose its Spanish characteristics. Dur- 
 ing the Mexican war, San Diego was taken by Commodore 
 Stockton, and on the hill above, are the remains of the 
 breastwork he threw up to command the town. 
 
 Opi^osite to Don Juan's is a long Spanish house, the 
 residence of the Padre, one end of which is fitted 
 up as a Chapel. I looked into it when passing, but 
 found everything, pictures, images, etc., in the worst 
 possible state of tawdriness. One of our countrymen — a 
 steerage passenger from the ship — followed me in, and 
 lounged round the place with his hat on and a cigar in his 
 mouth ! Four miles further up the harbor is New Town, a 
 more recent settlement, where several of our army officers 
 are quartered; while six miles farther back in the country, 
 at the old Mission of San Diego, a force of about one hun- 
 
SAN DIEGO. gj^ 
 
 dred soldiers is stationed. This is at present the residence 
 also of the Eev. Mr. Keynolds, one of our clergy, who is a 
 Chaplain in the United States Army. He officiates there on 
 Sunday morning, and in the afternoon comes down to San 
 Diego and holds service,— the only one, except the Eomish, 
 in the place. 
 
 San Diego, just now, is unusually lively. Our passen- 
 gers have most of them moved up to the town, where the 
 cabin passengers provide themselves with lodgings as 
 they best can. The steerage passengers, numbering about 
 three hundred, have been most of them quartered in a 
 deserted hotel, just beyond the town. Here they are di- 
 vided into messes, and daily rations are given them by 
 the purser of the steamer. 
 
 A schooner, chartered by the company, has just arrived. 
 The agent is trying to induce a hundred of the steerage 
 passengers to go in her, to prevent the Columbia from 
 being overloaded; but though he offers them five dollars 
 apiece premium, besides a dollar a day during the voyage, 
 they hold back, suspicious of some deception. In the 
 meanwhile, the Columbia is exerting all her force to get off 
 the Golden Gate. 
 
 Sunday has come— our first Sunday in California. Oppo- 
 site to us, near the little Komish Chapel, are four bells, tied 
 to a frame-work by thongs of ox-hide. When it is time for 
 Mass, two little boys mount the fence by them, and beat 
 them with stones in each hand. They have been ringing 
 at different hours this morning, and the people crowding to 
 the Chapel until it was filled to overflowing. The Indian 
 population are all dressed in their gayest garments, 
 while a party of filibusters, armed to the teeth, are lounging 
 
62 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 in the plaza, preparing to march to-day to join Walker, 
 who is a hundred miles distant, in Lower California. 
 The higher classes are dashing about on horseback, though 
 to-day it is more quiet than usual, as no public exhibition, 
 (bear baiting or bull fight), is to take place. With the In- 
 dians, however, it is a day of revelling and intoxication, 
 which often ends in bloodshed. It was so at this time, for, 
 towards evening, seeing a little group collected near Don 
 Juan's, we found, on inquiry, that one Indian in a quarrel 
 had just stabbed another to the heart. Passing one of their 
 mud-houses, a short time after, I heard a sound of sorrow, 
 and, looking in, saw the murdered man lying half-naked on 
 the floor, and his mother wailing over him. Such an 
 occurrence is too common to excite any attention. 
 The murderer was arrested by the American authorities, 
 but suffered to escape during the night. 
 
 I was requested, by some of the residents, to hold ser- 
 vice, and was, of course, happy to comply. We had the 
 room used as the court-room, which is occupied by 
 Mr. Eeynolds in the afternoon. There was no opportunity 
 of giving much notice, and service was not expected, as Mr. 
 Reynolds is never here in the morning; yet there were about 
 fifty persons present, including several of the army officers 
 and their families. We returned thanks for our late escape 
 from the perils of the sea, and, by a singular coincidence, 
 the Psalm for this morning, — the twenty-second day of the 
 month — contained that description so applicable to our late 
 situation: — 
 
 "They that go down to the sea in ships, and occupy their husiness 
 in great waters ; 
 
 "These men see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep. 
 
SAN DIEGO. 63 
 
 ** For at His word the stormy wind ariseth, which lifteth up the 
 -waves thereof. 
 
 '' They are carried up to the heaven, and down again to the deep ; 
 their soul melteth away because of the trouble. 
 
 " They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are 
 at their wit's end. 
 
 '* So when they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, He delivereth 
 them out of their distress. 
 
 *' For He maketh the storm to cease, so that the waves thereof are 
 still. 
 
 "Then are they glad, because they are at rest ; and soHebringeth 
 them unto the haven where they would be." 
 
VIII. 
 
 DEPARTURE FROM SAN DIEGO. 
 
 With difficulty, we procured to-day something like 
 a large farm wagon, to drive out to the mission of San 
 Diego. It is about six miles back in the country, our road 
 being most of the way through a perfectly level valley be- 
 tween the hills. Just beyond the town of San Diego stands 
 a single palm, which is the only tree to be seen for miles 
 in any direction. The country, like the hills about the 
 Plaza, is covered with low bushes. 
 
 Seventy years ago, California was almost entirely divided 
 among these missions, founded originally by the Francis- 
 cans. All the arable land for miles around their resi- 
 dences was cultivated for the fathers by the Indians 
 who were under their influence. They pretended to 
 hold these lands merely as guardians of the Indians, 
 though their care was often anything but disinterested. 
 Several years before the occupation by the Americans, these 
 possessions were most of them sequestered by the Mexican 
 Government, and the mission buildings are generally fall- 
 ing to ruin. These old fathers, however, settled them- 
 selves with great judgment. They chose fine locations, 
 erected solid buildings, and, by planting immense num- 
 64 
 
DEPARTURE FROM SAN DIEGO. 65 
 
 bers of fruit trees about them, did much to advance the 
 agricultural interests of the country. 
 
 The Mission of San Diego originally comprehended a large 
 tract of country, embracing in its jurisdiction several minor 
 Missions under its control. The buildings are on a hillside. 
 Thej^ have an extensive view down the valley, and are sub- 
 stantially built of adobe. In the centre is a fine large church, 
 which at that time they were preparing to transform into 
 barracks for the soldiers. It is well proportioned, with an 
 air of stateliness. The remains of the pulpit, solidly 
 built oi adobe cemented over — its steps still perfect, — and the 
 chancel — its cross sunk into the wall above the place where the 
 altar once stood — render its present desecration more mel- 
 ancholy. The low grounds around the Mission are covered 
 with old olive trees, remains of the orchards originally 
 planted by the priests. 
 
 Here, I had the pleasure of meeting the Rev. Mr. 
 Reynolds, the first clergyman of this Diocese whom I had 
 seen. He had been prevented from fulfilling his usual en- 
 gagement in San Diego, the preceding Sunday afternoon, 
 so that I had not before become acquainted with him. An 
 hour was passed pleasantly with the family of one of the 
 gentlemen attached to the army. 
 
 To-day one of the steerage passengers quartered in town 
 died of the Isthmus fever. Poor fellow, he had just escaped 
 the perils of the sea, to meet his end on land. He was from 
 Pennsylvania, and as he was not a Romanist, they came 
 to me to perform the funeral service. Some distance from 
 the town, there is a little enclosure set apart for the inter- 
 ment of foreigners, and thither, towards evening, about a 
 dozen of his late comrades carried him, when I read the 
 
66 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 service which committed his body " earth to earth." He 
 had been to Cahfornia once before, but was now going out 
 again, to make arrangements preparatory to bringing out 
 his family for a permanent residence. 
 
 In the course of the morning, I had, too, witnessed the 
 funeral of an Indian child, in the Eomish burying-ground. 
 The coffin was covered with a gay-colored paper of 
 the kind with which we cover our walls. The relatives 
 crouched down on the ground around the grave, while the 
 Padre read the service and sprinkled the holy water, and 
 not a sound was heard until he had finished the prayers 
 and turned to go. Then there burst forth a wild wail of 
 grief, and all rushed forward to throw the first earth into 
 the grave with their hands. 
 
 Thursday morning, Jan. 26th, arrived the summons for us 
 to repair to the Columbia, which was ready to sail for San 
 Francisco; and with regret we took leave of our kind hosts, 
 the Bandinis, by whom we have been entertained for six 
 days with a generous hospitality. Upon reaching the 
 Plaza, we found that the Golden Gate was lying in the inner 
 harbor, having got off the day before. Fortunately, 
 during this week had occurred the spring tides, when the 
 water rises to a greater height than at any other time. 
 Taking advantage of this, as the tide rose every night, 
 by carrying out anchors, and having hawsers on board the 
 Columbia to pull them, she was at length floated off, though 
 leaking badly. During the past week, we had been accus- 
 tomed to watch her progress anxiously, every morning 
 climbing a hill back of the town, from which we could see 
 her, though ten miles distant. Here, by taking several 
 ranges with objects near us, we could judge whether her 
 
DEPARTURE FROM SAN DIEGO. 67 
 
 position had changed during the night. She was now 
 anchored with the hulk into which her cargo had been dis- 
 charged by her side, and the Columbia (which looked like a 
 mere lighter in comparison with the Golden Gate,) next to it. 
 After repairing the principal leaks, she managed to reach 
 San Francisco about a week after our own arrival, and was 
 sent up to Benicia to be repaired. It was a result which 
 few expected at the time we left her, when it was generally 
 supposed she could not be moved, and would have to be dis- 
 mantled. As it was, the whole of this difficulty cost the 
 company a hundred and forty thousand dollars. 
 
 We were rowed out to the Golden Gate, and after a pleasant 
 dinner with Captain Isham, in the evening we were trans- 
 ferred to the Colmnbia, which sailed for San Francisco. After 
 we got under way, one of our cabin passengers, a Mr. Gib- 
 son, was found to be missing. As he was known to have gone 
 to bed on board of the Golden Gate, thinking that we 
 should not sail till morning, his absence created con- 
 siderable amusement, on the supposition that he had 
 overslept himself, and would be annoyed next morning at 
 finding himself left behind. We subsequently learned, that 
 the next day he was found lying senseless in the hold of the 
 hulk. To reach the Columbia^ it was necessary to descend 
 a plank from the Golden Gate, and cross the deck of the hulk 
 to the other side where our steamer was lying. With the most 
 culpable carelessness, the hatches of the hulk were left open, 
 and I remember how, with many warnings, and by the aid of 
 a lantern, Captain Isham pil )ted Mrs. Kip and myself around 
 them to the steamer. In the darkness, and perhaps confu- 
 sion of being just aroused from sleep, Mr. Gibson must, 
 in crossing, have fallen down a distance of twenty-two feet. 
 
68 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 There he lay, undiscovered, from nine in the evening un- 
 til early next day. One side of his head was almost crushed 
 in and his shoulder was broken. He was removed to the 
 Golden Grate, where every attention was shown him, but he 
 lived only three hours. It was he who had come to me, a 
 few days before, to make arrangements for the funeral of 
 the passenger we buried at San Diego, and now he was 
 laid by his side. 
 
 The Golumfjia was, of course, excessively crowded, as she 
 was not intended for one-third the number of passengers 
 which were now on board of her. "Yet the weather proved 
 to be calm, so that the few days of our voyage passed with- 
 out inconvenience. The most dangerous part of the pas- 
 sage is through the channel of Santa Barbara, which is only 
 a few miles wide, with the coast on one side and a chain of 
 rocky islands on the other. It is said, there is a variation 
 of the compass here, owing to some local attraction, which 
 renders it useless in passing through the channel. It 
 is generally foggy, so that steamers run great risks in get- 
 ting through. In this way, the Winjield Scott was lost, last 
 month. The Captain, mistaking his position, drove her with 
 a full head of steam on one of these islands, where the pas- 
 sengers remained, under tents, for several days, before they 
 were taken off. As it was bright sunlight when we passed, 
 we saw the wreck at a distance, the bows resting high on 
 the rocks. 
 
 Sunday morning^ the 29th, the fortieth day since we left 
 New York, terminated our voyage. As day was break- 
 ing we found ourselves off the harbor of San Francisco. 
 From its opening the inner harbor is distant several 
 miles, forming one of the most magnificent places in the 
 
DEPARTURE FROM SAN DIEGO. 69 
 
 world for shipping. As we approached, a gun was fired 
 from the steamer, which echoed far and wide over the 
 hills on which the city is built. The first thing which 
 struck us was the crowd of shipping at the wharves, 
 reminding us of the wharves of New York. Another gun 
 was fired, as we drew nigh the pier, when, early as it 
 was, crowds were seen pouring down from the city. 
 In addition to the passengers' friends who were anxiously 
 expecting them, after so protracted a voj^age, many 
 came to learn the fate of the Golden Gate. As we 
 touched the pier, a letter, from the Vestry of Trinity 
 Church, was passed on board to me, stating that a 
 committee had been appointed to meet us on our arrival, 
 and to conduct us to lodgings which had been pro- 
 vided. A few moments after the plank was out, a member 
 of the committee was on board, introducing himself to 
 us, and thus, through considerate kindness, our arrival 
 was deprived of that desolate feeling which can not but 
 accompany one who comes, for the first time, to a strange 
 place where there are no familiar faces. 
 
IX. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 It is curious to stand on the deck of a crowded steamer, 
 as she is passing through the " Golden Gate " and entering 
 the noble harbor of San Francisco. There are a few re- 
 turning Californians, who are pointing out every object 
 of interest with which they were formerly familiar; but the 
 majority of the passengers are gazing with earnestness on 
 the untried scene which is to them but the land of promise. 
 Most of them have come as adventurers to that new home, 
 and the result is yet to show whether any of their expec- 
 tations are ever to be realized. Some are coming to 
 retrieve broken fortunes, and, instead of reaping the golden 
 harvest, how many wiU find a grave in the already crowded 
 cemetery of San Francisco — dying, " strangers in a strange 
 land" — ; or else be glad, in a few months, to take passage 
 home in some returning steamer ! Many are ladies and 
 children, whose husbands and fathers, having succeeded in 
 business, have now sent for their families to join them. We 
 belonged to none of these classes; yet none, probably, 
 looked out with more interest on their future home than 
 we did, when on that beautiful Sunday morning, just as 
 the sun was rising over the distant mountains, we found 
 ourselves entering the harbor. 
 70 
 
SAN FRANCISCO. 71 
 
 The first thing which strikes the stranger with surprise, 
 on passing through the streets of San Francisco, is the 
 excellence of the buildings in this city which is little 
 more than live j^ears old. In Montgomery Street, there are 
 massive edifices of granite and brick which would not look 
 out of place in the thoroughfares of our old cities at the 
 East. The first generation of houses was, of course, of the 
 frailest kind — the mere temporary expedient of settlers, and 
 but one remove from the tents in which they had been liv- 
 ing. The great fires which desolated the city swept these 
 away — for they burned like tinder — but cleared the ground 
 for more substantial dwellings. Houses were imported from 
 abroad in large numbers. One, of white granite, seventy 
 feet front and three stories high, was prepared in China, 
 the stone all cut and ready to put up. The first company 
 of Chinamen who came out were imported with it, to erect 
 the building. There is a large wooden house, the second 
 story of which projects ten feet over the first, which to one 
 who has been on the Rhine, suggests at once reminiscences of 
 the *' Fatherland." It was brought out by some Germans. 
 There is one from Belgium. That large, chateau-looking 
 building, on the hill, just back of the city, came from 
 France; it is now occupied as the French Consulate. Every 
 little while yoa meet with a house half composed of minute 
 panes of glass, which unmistakably show its Chinese 
 origin. Walk through Mission Street, and on each side of 
 the way are neat and pretty cottages — there must be a 
 dozen in all — exactly alike, which were sent out from 
 Boston. 
 
 Every month witnesses a striking change in the outward 
 appearance of the city— ra change so great that a six months' 
 
72 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 absence seems to have prepared a new city for one who is 
 returning to it. The high hills are levelled and thrown into 
 the valleys — grading is going on in all directions — finer 
 buildings erecting — and, on every side, the night scarcely 
 brings pause to the busy march of improvement. There is, 
 too, a degree of elegance visible in the manner of life, which 
 would surprise those at the East who look upon California 
 as the outpost of civilization. The day, indeed, is not far 
 distant, when San Francisco will be one of the most lux- 
 urious cities in the world. It has, in fact, the greatest nat- 
 ural advantages. Even now the fruits of the tropics and 
 of the temperate zones are united in its markets in a way 
 never seen in any other land. 
 
 The whole tone of societ}^ is rajDidly altering, and one who 
 forms his estimate from the accounts of four years ago, must 
 be widely mistaken. Then the city was composed, almost 
 entirely, of men. There were no accommodations for ladies, 
 and the gentler sex would have been sadly out of place 
 among the hardshii:>s which marked those days. Then, we 
 are told, a lady in the street was an object of wonderment, 
 and all stopped and turned round to look at her. The 
 great disproportion between the sexes still continues, though 
 it is rapidly decreasing. At the last census, two years ago, 
 there were about thirty thousand males and five thousand 
 females — -a curious and probably unj^recedented anomaly. 
 In the usual proportion, there were men enough in San 
 Francisco for a city of one hundred and fifty thousand 
 inhabitants. The population is now estimated at about 
 fifty thousand. Every steamer brings out ladies and fami- 
 lies, domestic ties are forming or renewing, here as else- 
 where the softening and refining influence of female society 
 
SAAT FJ^A.VC/SCO. ,73 
 
 is felt, and San Francisco is rapidly settling down to be like 
 every other civilized city. 
 
 There is something about San Francisco which, strange 
 as it may seem, constantly reminds me of Paris. There 
 is a freedom from the stiffness and conventionalities of 
 Eastern cities, and a liveliness not seen there. The splendid 
 caf^s and restaurants on every street are always open and 
 filled with company. Families occupy apartments in the 
 foreign style. The population has come together from 
 every civilized nation on the earth, and from some which can 
 scarcely claim that character. Every state in our country 
 is represented, and every nation in Europe. There are 
 thousands of Chinese who occupy streets entirely appro- 
 priated to them, and as you see them at their various em- 
 ployments, you could imagine yourself in Canton. Now 
 and then, you see the Asiatic look of the Malays and 
 Hindoos. The islands of the Southern Sea have contrib- 
 uted their proportion. It is curious how near you seem to 
 be to divers odd places which before you have only read 
 about. Placards are up, giving notice of the sailing 
 of ships for Australia and New Zealand. Last week a 
 steamer was advertised to go on a pleasure excursion to 
 the Sandwich Islands, to be absent but thirty days; and 
 this morning, in the post-office, I was quite startled by 
 hearing one of the porters call out,—" Which is the Sand- 
 wich Islands mail ?" 
 
 What most astonishes a new-comer is the scale of prices. 
 When I reached San Francisco, it was at its height* 
 Luxuries commanded a prohibitory price. Apples, ""f or 
 instance, I have often seen at five dollars apiece. Rents 
 were startling. Near my lodgings (in Stockton Street) was 
 
74: THE EARL Y DAYS OF MY E PI SCO PA TE. 
 
 a two-story brick house, of about thirty feet frontage, occu- 
 pied as a boarding-house, which rented for five hundred 
 dollars a month (everything here is by the month). 
 
 There were many wooden cottages in the city. At the 
 East they would cost about fifteen hundred dollars each. 
 They were without plaster, linen being stretched across 
 the partitions and then papered. They looked very well, 
 but were highly inflammable. It was owing to the character 
 of these buildings that the city was so often entirely deso- 
 lated by fires. I never dared to hire one, because I was 
 afraid to trust in it my books and papers. 
 
 Another disadvantage was, that you could hear noises 
 from one end of the house to the other. If a child cried 
 in the southeast corner, you heard it in the northwest 
 with as much distinctness as if in the same apartment. 
 And yet, these cottages rented, on an average, for 
 one hundred and twenty-five dollars a month. As it 
 was, I took apartments in a brick building,* erected 
 in the style of the continent of Europe, in suites of 
 apartments with a restaurant attached. Here, I felt toler- 
 ably secure from fire, which was quite a consideration, as 
 I was so often absent from town. For a parlor and 
 two bedrooms (unfurnished), I paid one hundred dol- 
 lars a month. Beside this, of course, meals had to be 
 provided, and a servant to take charge of the rooms. 
 
 In a few months I was able to procure a house which had 
 just been erected. It was of timber plastered over in the cheap- 
 est style, two stories without a garret, twenty-two feet front 
 by thirty feet deep.f For this I paid, for the first year, one 
 
 * Virginia Block, corner of Jackson and Stockton Streets, 
 t In California Street, just below Stockton. 
 
SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 75 
 
 hundred and seventy-fiTe dollars a month — more in a year 
 than the whole place would have cost at the East. 
 
 The ordinary price for meals is one dollar. In the fash- 
 ionable restaurants of San Francisco, it is, of course, much 
 more for a dinner, but one dollar is the ordinary price in 
 the smallest country towns throughout the State. Gentle- 
 men are in the habit of hiring rooms in one place and tak- 
 ing their meals at another. The ordinary price for good 
 board in this way, (board alone,) is sixteen dollars a week. 
 
 Servants' wages were, — cooks', from seventy to one hun- 
 dred dollars a month, chambermaids', from forty to seventy 
 dollars, and nurses', five dollars a day. Common laborers 
 were paid three dollars a day, and mechanics much more. 
 A doctor's fee was ordinarily about eight dollars a visit. 
 
 Life was not less strange to us in its social aspects, and 
 I can best convey my impressions by following closely the 
 very words of my journal, from which this chapter has been 
 taken. It must, therefore, be undei stood as written in 1854, 
 soon after my arrival. 
 
 " People live by fortnights in California." Such is the 
 remark we heard a short time after we arrived, and every 
 fortnight we spend impresses it upon us. At these inter- 
 vals of time the steamers arrive and depart, and thus twice 
 a month all the old associations with the East are revived 
 and memories of "home," (as they all call it,) are re- 
 kindled. 
 
 It is a time of some excitement when the steamers go. 
 On the 1st and 15th of each month, two of these magnifi- 
 cent vessels, — one for the Panama and the other for the 
 Nicaragua route — are lying side by side, ready at noon to 
 set off for their destination. Through the morning they are 
 
76 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 thronged by thousands taking leave of departing friends. 
 On all sides you hear the greeting,—" So, you are going 
 home ! " often accompanied by the wish that the speaker 
 could himself set his face thither-ward. So general are 
 these expressions, that I was quite startled one morning by 
 hearing a gentleman reply, when asked, — " Are you going 
 
 home ? " " Why should I, when I am at home already ! " 
 
 It was something so different from the usual spirit of Cali- 
 fornia. 
 
 Few of those who go, however, expect to remain at the 
 East. There are some, indeed, who have achieved a fortune 
 and depart to settle down in its enjoyment " at home." 
 And yet many of these, after trying the experiment, have 
 come back again. They say—" Everything is so tame at 
 the East." They miss, too, this delightful climate, and find 
 the weather too hot in summer and too cold in winter. 
 Although they talk about " home," just as the old English 
 colonists used to, of England, nine-tenths of those now in 
 the country will live and die here. The majority of those 
 who leave on the steamers are merely going on a visit, to 
 return in a few months, or to bring out their families, or 
 on temporary business. 
 
 But still greater is the excitement when the steamers 
 arrive. For days beforehand they are looked for and 
 the time of their coming is calculated. If delayed a few 
 days, the community is filled with anxiety, and count- 
 less speculations are indulged in, to account for their 
 non-appearance. Friends and relatives are expected, or 
 letters are looked for, and thus everyone has an interest in 
 their coming. To show the amount of correspondence, 
 even at this early day, I will mention, that one mail recently 
 
SAJV FRANCISCO. 77 
 
 took out sixty thousand letters from the city of San Fran- 
 cisco alone. At length, a gun is heard at " the Heads/' 
 followed in a little wliile by another as the steamer draws 
 near the city, and at once thousands thiong down to the 
 wharf. The deck and cabin are soon filled v/iih friends, 
 long parted, congratulating each other, and at once there is 
 a sensible change over the whole face of society. 
 
 It is at the post-office, however, that this excitement is 
 greatest. As soon as the mails begin to open, and for 
 several days after, it is besieged by crowds. To prevent con- 
 fusion, the direction has been issued, to fall in line in the 
 order of arrival, and consequently, from each of the half- 
 dozen openings for delivery, there extend long lines of men, 
 stretching off into the street and winding around like long 
 serpents. Sometimes there are more than a hundred in each 
 line, and thus one slowly moves up, and, after waiting for 
 hours, finds oneself at the goal, the head instead of the tail 
 of a long series. 
 
 Sometimes an impatient man of business pays a handsome 
 sum for the place of a person who has nearly reached the 
 head. A friend told me that he went one morning just be- 
 fore day was breaking, and then found himself No. 11. No. 1 
 had been there since just after midnight, and when seven 
 o'clock came had the satisfaction of hearing the clerk say, 
 in answer to his inquiry, — " Nothing for you." 
 
 Such are some traits of California life. A gentleman de- 
 scribed it to me lately very truly, when he said : " Every- 
 thing here is hurry-skurry. It is like living on curry. 
 But what will the world do for excitement when California 
 settles down?*' The active and energetic have thronged 
 hither from all parts of the world, and there is a rush and 
 
78 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 hurry to grasp sudden fortunes. Blanks in the lottery are 
 of course innumerable, yet they are seldom heard of, while 
 the prizes are published, and are sufficient to keep alive the 
 hopes of all. Men who five years ago were worth nothing, 
 are now millionaires. The changes in the value of property, 
 are almost incredible. I pass every day a square * which 
 five years ago was sold for twelve dollars: it is now worth 
 six hundred thousand dollars. It is impossible, therefore, 
 for dwellers in the East to understand the tone of feeling 
 in this city of fifty thousand inhabitants — all brought together 
 in the last few years, and, as yet, without time to form local 
 attachments or associations. 
 
 Public morals, however, are improving. A short time ago 
 Sunday was the great business day. Now, the counting houses 
 and more respectable shops close. It is true the theatres are 
 open, and present their highest attractions for that evening, 
 — horse-raciDg, bear-fighting, etc., are going on, and gam- 
 bling saloons are in full operation. Still, there has been a 
 great advance. Through the morning, at least, the streets 
 are comparatively quiet, and the churches are well attended. 
 In this respect, Sunday here has somewhat a Continental 
 character. The gambling saloons now are diminishing in 
 number, and are less and less frequented by the higher 
 class of men. Three years ago, gentlemen were here with- 
 out their families, and had really no other comfortable places 
 to resort to. They slept at their counting houses and 
 offices, and took their meals at eating houses. When night 
 came, the only bright, cheerful looking places, were the 
 brilliantly lighted gambling saloons, where, too, they had 
 
 * In Montgomery Street. 
 
SAN FRANCISCO. 79 
 
 splendid music. Here, therefore, they met, and passed the 
 evenings, even when they ventured nothing at the tables. 
 Now, their families are coming out, they are reconstructing 
 their homes, and home feelings are resuming their sway. 
 
 Still, there is much, very much, to be done here, to 
 breast this current of intense worldliness which is sweeping 
 everything before it. In 1852 it was so impossible to 
 procure the conviction of a criminal, that a Vigilance Com- 
 mittee was formed of the first men in San Francisco, who, 
 sustained by public opinion, sat as a private court, forcibly 
 seized prisoners when the public courts would have acquitted 
 them, and hanged them in the streets before assembled 
 thousands. The feeling is still prevalent, that a man must 
 fall back on his right of vindicating himself, and although 
 the duellist is by statute disqualified for public office, this 
 law is a dead letter. The highest public officers have 
 fought, some of them repeatedly, and only last week a 
 member of the Legislature was killed in a duel with a 
 brother member. Public opinion has not yet set its seal of 
 reprobation on such things. As you walk through the 
 streets with one well acquainted with men and matters, he 
 
 points out to you — "That is the man who killed in a 
 
 duel." '' That is Mr. who shot last winter ! " etc. 
 
 Yet their position, neither socially nor politically, seems 
 much affected by it. 
 
 But here, as elsewhere, there is the other side. Here are 
 also the good and the true hearted, the earnest Christian, 
 and those who have retained their fidelity to the prin- 
 ciples they learned in their old homes. In no part of the 
 world would the Church, after a time, be better supported. 
 Yet we need the aid of our brethren at the East, till it can 
 
80 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 be planted in the moral wastes, wbich now abound through- 
 out this land, and that religious atmosphere can be created, 
 which is to purify and reform these gathering thousands. 
 
 I have written this, after reading a letter just received 
 from a friend in England,* dated from '' Merton College, 
 Oxford," and it is impossible to imagine the contrast to my 
 mind between the " quiet and still air of delightful studies" 
 which breathes through it, coming out at times involuntarilVj 
 and the rush and hurrj^ of life about me. It is strange to 
 look on this exciting scene without sharing in it, being in 
 it yet not of it. My correspondent says — " There is a gen- 
 eral rejoicing here at the successful issue of the visit, f 
 The Venerable President of Magdalen College, J now in his 
 ninety- ninth year, thanked God that he had lived to see the 
 beginning of a union, which (said he) is the most important 
 step that can be effected for the consolidation and strength- 
 ening of Eeformed Christendom. He specially rejoiced in 
 your mission, because it recognizes the Bishop as the 
 essential to make a Diocese, and does not allow a Diocese 
 to grow up first, and seek a Bishoj) afterwards." 
 
 Another, § who is widely known in this country for author- 
 ship in Church literature, writes me — " I cannot forbear 
 telling you how much I am interested in the success of your 
 undertaking, and how earnestly I hope that God's blessing 
 
 * Rev. Edmund Hobhouse, Fellow of Merton College, since Bishop oi 
 Kelson, New Zealand. 
 
 t Referring to the Delegation of the Churcli of England to ou 
 General Convention in 1853, consisting of Dr. Spencer, ex-Bisbop of 
 Madras, Archdeacon Sinclair, and Rev. Earnest Hawkins, Secretary 
 of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. 
 
 t Rev. Dr. Routh. He died next year. 
 
 § Miss Se well— author of " Amy Herbert," etc., etc. 
 
SAN FRANCISCO. gl 
 
 may be with you, and that He will grant you the bodily 
 health, and the mental and moral strength, needed for so 
 great and important work. You must be so much occu- 
 pied now that it seems unkind to ask you to write, yet if 
 you could find a few minutes to tell me something about 
 your future plans, I should be Tery much interested in hear- 
 ing them." 
 
 Doubly pleasant, indeed, to us who are laboring in this 
 " far-off land," are these proofs of the Unity of the Church \ 
 
X. 
 
 CLIMATE. 
 
 When a person feels homesick in San Francisco, lie is 
 very apt to say, *' Well, after all, one compensation for liv- 
 ing here is the climate." The atmosphere is certainly most 
 bracing and exhilarating. Day after day, often for a long 
 period, the air is so pure and balmy that it is a luxury to 
 inhale it. We realize that it adds to the mere physical 
 pleasure of living. Nowhere have I found winter weather 
 so much like that of Naples as in some places on the coast, 
 such as San Diego, Santa Barbara and Monterey, but the 
 summers are very different, as the great heat of the South 
 of Italy is here unknown. 
 
 There is, however, no division of summer and win- 
 ter, but of the rainy and dry seasons. The former takes 
 the place of winter, and the latter of summer. The dry 
 season begins about in May, and after that no rain falls 
 till November or December. All the moisture which vege- 
 tation receives is from the dews or the fogs at night. Of 
 coarse, the country then begins to dry up, the plains in 
 the interior become parched and dusty, and, except where 
 there are evergreens, not a bit of green is seen. In San 
 Francisco, the mornings through this season are generally 
 warm and balmy, but about noon high winds set in from 
 82 
 
CUM A TE. 83 
 
 the ocean, often accompanied with fog. This peculiarity 
 of chmate is confined to some twenty miles on this part of 
 the coast. It is said to arise from the heating of the 
 plains in the interior, when by noon the air becomes rari- 
 fied and a vacuum is produced. To fill this, the air rushes 
 in through the chasm made by the Golden Gate. Other 
 places on the coast have the cool breezes from the sea, 
 but without the chilly winds. In this city, however, no one 
 goes down to his business at ten o'clock, although the atmos- 
 phere be like June, without taking his overcoat with him, 
 for he knows that, on his return towards evening, he will 
 need it. In July and August the evenings are often so cold 
 that a little fire is desirable. 
 
 The inhabitants complain of these cold winds, and yet 
 they are preferable to the heat of our Atlantic States. 
 They are, too, great preservatives of health, giving us a new 
 atmosphere every twenty-four hours. Without this, there 
 "would be danger of the plague amid the filth and crowd of 
 the Chinese quarter. I have seen, too, steamers infected 
 with cholera come directly to the wharf, after having lost 
 fifty or sixty passengers on their way up the coast — in one 
 case patients had died after entering "the Heads ' — and 
 although hundreds rushed on board to meet their friends, 
 and the sick were carried up into town, this was the last we 
 heard of it. In any other city cholera would have spread 
 like wildfire. Here it is not thought necessary even to 
 make sanitary laws. 
 
 In October or November there may be a few occasional 
 showers, though I have known the rainy season not to set 
 in until about Christmas. Then the winds have ceased, and 
 when it is not rainy, the air is so fresh and balmy, that 
 
84 THE EARL V DA YS OF 31 Y E PISCO PA TE. 
 
 every breath seems to invigorate and inspire with new life. 
 On the country it acts like the advent of spring in other 
 lands. The dusty plains, and the hills which for months 
 had been waving with the yellow wild oats, are now green, 
 and carpeted with flowers. You see countless acres of them 
 of every hue. 
 
 Before I reached here, I expected, during the rainy season, 
 to find it raining almost all the time. There is, in this 
 respect, a great difference in different seasons, yet gen- 
 eralh^ (and I am now writing after five years' experience,) 
 I do not think more rain falls here during the six months 
 of the rainy season, than usually, during the same length 
 of time, at any period of the year on the Atlantic coast. 
 AVe arrived here in January, the middle of the rainy season, 
 but for the first ten day3 we had rain but part of two days, 
 with some showers at night. 
 
 I believe no city in the world is more healthy than San 
 Francisco. Consumption never originates in it, and from 
 its high position on the hills, it cannot be liable to chills and 
 fever. Should any miasma be generated, it would be swept 
 away by the high winds of summer. The effect of the climate 
 indeed is very visible on those who have been here for some 
 years. They are larger, more robust, and have a ruddy, 
 Enq'lish look, which is not so often seen on the Atlantic 
 coast. In walking the streets one is struck with the stout, 
 athletic appearance of the male portion of the population. 
 
 Many of these remarks about temperature apply to San 
 Francisco onl}^ In the state there is every variety of 
 climate. Back from the coast a few miles, through the 
 beautiful vallej^s of Santa Clara, or Sonoma, or Napa, it is 
 warmer, but with a climate which cannot be surpassed in 
 
CLIMA TE. 86 
 
 Ital}'. Still farther back, where entirely removed from the 
 influence of the sea breeze, it is exceedingly hot through the 
 dry season. At Sacramento and Marysville, for a j)ortion of 
 this season, the mercury rises above 100°, though from the 
 latter place, the Sierra Nevada range is in sight, white and 
 glittering, with its winter drapery of snow. And this range 
 extends through the whole length of the State, affording on 
 its slopes and in the valleys at its base, all varieties of 
 temperature. 
 
 lone day came down the Sacramento Vallej^, when the ther- 
 mometer in the sun registered 127°, but I did not feel the heat 
 more than I should have done at the East, at 90°. Then, too, 
 it is one peculiarity of the climate of this country, that how- 
 ever hot it may be through the day, it is always cool at night. 
 I scarcely remember to have known in any part of Cali- 
 fornia, a night when it was comfortable to sleep without a 
 blanket. In consequence there is no exhaustion of the 
 system. 
 
 Another feature of the climate, and one which prevents the 
 heat from being felt as much as in other countries, is the 
 exceeding dryness of the atmosphere. The old Californians 
 (Mexicans) after killing a bullock are accustomed to cut the 
 flesh in strips, (it is here sold by the yard), and to hung it 
 up for a few days in the open air till it becomes entirely 
 dried. It is called "jerked beef." When passing their 
 houses in the interior, I have seen the piazza, between the 
 pillars, entirely festooned in this wa3\ In any other country 
 beef would be spoiled in a few hours, by this exposure. On 
 the plains I have noticed a peculiar effect of this dryness of 
 the air. In riding over them I have sometimes passed the 
 carcase of a dead animal which had been left where it 
 
86 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EFISCOPA TE. 
 
 fell. It did not, however, in its decomposition, taint the air 
 with any disagreeable odor, but seemed to dry up and pass 
 away, until only the skeleton was left to rattle in the hard 
 skin. 
 
 And yet, the mortality among those who came to Cali- 
 fornia has been fearful. The two cemeteries at San Fran- 
 cisco " Yerba Buena" and *'Lone Mountain" — stretch 
 
 far and wide with their almost countless graves, while 
 through the length and breadth of the land, on the hill- 
 sides, and in the ravines and gulches through the mines, 
 thousands are sleeping their last sleep, the very spot where 
 they were laid forgotten. The sick have come here but to 
 die. Every steamer brings those in failing health, who re- 
 sort to this climate as their last hope of restoration. But 
 having postponed the change too long, they come only 
 to swell the bills of mortality of San Francisco. The ex- 
 posure in the mines, too, is terrible. All day long, men in- 
 spired by the " greed of gold " work under the burning sun, 
 standing perliaps up to their knees in water. Their food is 
 insufficient and their accommodations such as give them 
 but little shelter. Is it strange, then, that disease attacks 
 them, particularly when so many are entirely unprepared 
 by previous training to endure such hardships ? Many, too, 
 are without friends or any associates who know them or 
 care for their welfare. 
 
 One day, at a mining camp, it is noticed that some one 
 who has a " claim " near by has not appeared in the morning 
 to dig as usual. Perhaps a miner, more benevolent than 
 the rest, visits his tent and finds him seriously ill. For a day 
 or two, a little attention is paid him, but the third morning 
 he is found to be dead. No one knows him and he is has- 
 
CLIMATE. 
 
 87 
 
 tily buried on the next hill. His tools and few effects are 
 divided, and thus ends his history. I have heard of in- 
 stances where men had been lying* dead in their tents for 
 days before their decease was discovered. The tent was 
 closed, the occupant did not appear, no one felt any 
 particular interest in him, and it was supposed he had 
 gone off for a time "prospecting," (hunting for a new dig- 
 ging,) till actually the process of decomposition gave notice 
 of the true state of the case. 
 
 This ignorance of each other's names, I found to be par- 
 ticularly frequent with young men of respectable families. 
 They feel, in their present position, as if they had sunk 
 themselves and are willing to live incog, until " their pile is 
 made," and they can emerge again into respectability. 
 They, therefore, are known to their companions by some 
 sobriquet, often the place from which they come, as " Bos- 
 ton," "Kentuck," "Natchez" — and thus, if suddenly cut 
 off, "they die and make no sign," and no one knows who 
 are the relatives to be informed of their decease. 
 
 Many — very many— die on the journey over the prairies; 
 and when their companions arrive at the Pacific, four or five 
 months afterwards, they have entirely forgotten their 
 existence and make no report. Not unfrequently, too, 
 in riding over the wide plains of California, one comes to the 
 bleached skeleton of some human being — all that the wolves 
 have left. He has set out alone from the mines on his re- 
 turn to San Francisco. Weary, and perhaps ill, he at- 
 tempts to walk across one of those wide-stretching j)lains 
 betvv'een the Sierra Nevada range of mountains and the sea. 
 Standing on its verge, the traveler, deceived by the ex- 
 ceeding transparency of the atmosphere, thinks that he can 
 
88 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 pass over it in a few hours. But he travels on — and on, 
 while the horizon seems to fly from him and to become no 
 more distinct, until at last, worn out and fainting under the 
 noon-tide heats, he sinks down in his path and dies, alone. 
 Months go by before any one passes that way, and then all 
 that can be known is that these are the remains of a fel- 
 low being. 
 
 Or, discouraged at the " diggings," he wanders in broken 
 health to San Francisco. Here he becomes worse and is 
 carried to the hospital. Before he has declared his name 
 or residence, the power to do so is gone. In a few days 
 he is numbered with the dead, no papers are discovered 
 about him to show who he is, and his sole record is found in 
 the coroner's report at the end of the week: — "A man ap- 
 parently about thirty years of age." And thus, in Califor- 
 nia, hundreds pass away, for whom fond hearts at home 
 are yearning, hoping for letters month after month, al- 
 ways ignorant of the fate of the loved and lost. Con- 
 stantly the steamers have brought me letters from fam- 
 ilies, not only in our own country, but in England, making 
 inquiries for members of their little circles who had gone 
 years ago to California and from whom no news had been 
 received. Probably their closing scenes might be described 
 in one of the ways I have mentioned above. 
 
XL 
 
 THE FIRST SUNDAY. 
 
 I HAVE already mentioned, that it was at dawn on Sun- 
 day that we entered the harbor of San Francisco and saw 
 before us the city scattered widely over a series of hills, 
 which seemed like " the seven hills " of Eome. What a 
 contrast to the scene which was presented but a few years 
 before, when there was scarcely a hut on the borders of this 
 quiet bay ! The harbor, and afterwards the city took the 
 name of the old Mission of St. Francis, the buildings of 
 which still remain nestling under the hills, about three 
 miles from the city. 
 
 The member of the committee who came on board to re- 
 ceive us proved to be Mr. Augustine Hale, whose letters to 
 his sister in Albany had first awakened my interest in behalf 
 of California. A carriage was waiting, and in a short time ' 
 we found ourselves at the house of William Neely Thomp- 
 son, Esq., another member of the committee. This, for the 
 next fortnight was our home, where everything was done 
 which kindness and hospitality could suggest. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Wyatt at once called on me and insisted on 
 my immediately commencing duty. I confess, I felt but 
 
90 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 little like engaging in a service, for I had not recovered 
 from all we had passed through during the previous ten 
 days. Bat everything in California is omvard; life does not 
 pause for the accommodation of the tired and the weary, and 
 therefore, I yielded to the request of the Rector, and, three 
 hours after my arrival, found myself standing in the chan- 
 cel of Trinity Church. 
 
 The church was founded by the Rev. Flavel S. Mines. 
 After laboring awhile and having this edifice erected, his 
 health failed and he died of consumption. The church is 
 his fitting monument, and he now sleeps beneath its chan- 
 cel in the hope of a glorious resurrection. The building 
 was curiously constructed of sheet iron, plastered inside. 
 On the arrival of Mr. Wyatt and his entrance on the Rec- 
 torship, about eight months before my own coming, the 
 church was enlarged by widening it some twenty feet. At 
 this time the parish was in the very height of prosperity, 
 with a noble, energetic congregation, comprising as much 
 intellect and cultivation as I ever saw gathered in a similar 
 assemblage. The proportion of gentlemen, (as of course is 
 usual in this city,) was much greater than one is ac- 
 customed to see at the East, and before I knew them per- 
 sonally, I was struck with the mere outward ajDpearance 
 they presented. Everything betokened activity and energy 
 of mind. There was nothing among the non-Episco- 
 pal congregations which could at all compete with the 
 Church, and as the only other Episcopal congregation in the 
 city, Grace Church, was merely in existence, almost all there 
 was of the Church on the Pacific coast was gathered into 
 Trinity. 
 
 In the morning I read the Ante-Communion Service and 
 
THE FIRST SUNDAY. 91 
 
 preached, and in the evening I preached again. My 
 
 text in the morning was I Corinthians x. 4, and I here 
 
 quote the conclusion of my sermom, to show the feelings 
 
 with which I entered on my ministry in this distant 
 land: 
 
 " ' And that Kock was Christ.' It is a text which seems 
 to embrace within itself the very substance and fulness of 
 the Gospel. And I cannot but rejoice, brethren, that the 
 first message I am permitted to deliver in this place is from 
 words condensing within themselves the whole system of 
 which our Lord was Himself the earliest herald, and which 
 He bequeathed to His ministers to publish to the ends of 
 the world. Commencing now a new era in my public minis- 
 try, and with a great gulf separating the past, with its throng- 
 ing memories, from the shadowy future, it is fitting that 
 these words should be at once my present theme and the 
 type of what should be my message in days that are to 
 come. I would have them go on with me, spreading their 
 influence over all that I may say when ministering in holy 
 things, till to me, as to all others, that solemn hour comes 
 when Christ the Rock shall be the dying mortal's only 
 refuge. 
 
 " In obedience, brethren, to that voice of the Church to 
 which we can only bow in reverence, I come to you, to la- 
 bor with you in her cause, — in the words of the Apostle, — 
 * your servant for Jesus' sake.' I have left the associations 
 of a life-time, to spend the remaining years which God may 
 grant me, where the length and breadth of a continent sep- 
 arate me from scenes which the past has hallowed. I have 
 left the graves of those most dear to me, to find my own 
 
92 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 where to me the soil has been consecrated by no kindred 
 dust. Yet I feel that everywhere, over the wide earth, the 
 Church is one, — the same in her spirit and her holy ordi- 
 nances, — and wherever, therefore, I can stand, as to-day, by 
 the side of her altar, and surrounded by her members, 
 iliere will be home. And I know too well the generous and 
 earnest spirit of the Churchmen of this land, not to rejoice 
 that, in the Providence of God, such are to be my fellow la- 
 borers. I know that in the mighty contest which together 
 we are to wage, you will not be wanting. 
 
 " There is indeed, my brethren, a spirit abroad in this 
 land which cannot but rebuke the faint hearted and the idler, 
 and awaken him to zeal and energy. Where worldliness is 
 earnest, and every faculty is braced to the utmost in the strife 
 for the prizes of this perishing life, shall the follower of the 
 Lord be slothful, when he is struggling for the souls of ' a 
 multitude which no man can number,' — when the reward of 
 his labor is to be a crown which fadeth not away ? Every- 
 thing indeed around you, brethren, summons you to aid those 
 whose cry amid the strife is — ' Come up to the help of the 
 Lord ! ' Your land, overleaping the natural stages of growth, 
 is springing up at once to a giant manhood with a rapidity 
 never before witnessed, and while this generation is yet on 
 the stage, its spiritual destinies may be determined for all 
 coming time. You are settling this question, therefore, not 
 for yourselves alone, but for your children and your chil- 
 dren's children. 
 
 " How noble the cause, therefore, in which we are to labor ! 
 Who could be recreant in such a contest ? Who can even 
 predict the future which opens before us if we are faith- 
 ful to these mighty interests which are thus entrusted to 
 
THE FIRST SUNDAY. 93 
 
 our hands? Oh! brethren, let it be so ; and then, when 
 time with you is fading into eternity, the Church of God 
 will rejoice that you have lived : and it will be found writ- 
 ten of you in the Book of God's remembrance, that you 
 have done something worth recording.'* 
 
XII. 
 
 GRACE CHURCH. 
 
 Now that more than five years have passed since my ar- 
 rival in this country, as I look back upon them, how many 
 of my most pleasing associations centre in Grace Church I 
 It is to me the most home-like place in California. 
 
 At the first settlement of the country, when the Kev. Mr. 
 Mines came across the Isthmus, the Kev. Dr. Ver Mehr, at 
 the same time, arrived by the way of Cape Horn. Each 
 had his friends and supporters, and each party commenced 
 the formation of a congregation. It was a sadH mistake, the 
 effects of which the Church in this city feels to the present 
 day. There should have been but one congregation, instead 
 of two, which divided the energies of the Church. I have al- 
 ready mentioned the founding of Trinity Church by Mr. 
 Mines. He was a man of energy and talents, and nothing 
 but his failing health and early death prevented the accom- 
 plishment of all his hoi)es. 
 
 Dr. Ver Mehr, too, was a man of talents, highly accom- 
 plished, and particularly skilled as a linguist. He was, 
 however, a Belgian, and had never acquired the English 
 language sufficiently to succeed as a preacher. He was a 
 fine writer, and his sermons delivered by any one else 
 94 
 
GRACE CHURCH. 05 
 
 would have been very impressive, but owing to his German 
 accent, it was difficult to keep the thread of his discourse. 
 
 About 1849, in the first outbreak of the California excite- 
 ment, I happened to be staying with Bishop Doane at 
 ^' Riverside," when one evening. Dr. Ver Mehr, then one of 
 the teachers at St. Mary's Hall, came in to inform the 
 Bishop, that he proposed going to California. I listened to 
 the discussion which followed, without having any idea that 
 I should ever be personally interested in the matter. I re- 
 member, however, that the Bishop strongly urged him not 
 to attempt it. He stated to him, that he was not person- 
 ally adapted to a new country, nor was his style of scholar- 
 ship that which was needed here. In fact, he prophesied 
 to him exactly the result which afterwards happened. 
 
 Grace Church was " built in troublous times," in Powell 
 Street, but unfortunately not paid for. For some years 
 there was a constant struggle, and Grace Church was al- 
 ways in the field begging money, either by subscription 
 papers, or though the medium of fairs. Every little while 
 it would be in the hands of the sheriff. The result was, 
 that the fine lot which the church owned, and which, had 
 it been preserved intact, would have been a splendid site 
 for a larger church when prosperous times came, was pared 
 down, and all of it sold but the ground under the wooden 
 church and the rectory next door, at the corner. To gather 
 a permanent congregation seemed out of the question. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Dr. Yer Mehr and his family had an 
 equally hard struggle for existence. The church in its de- 
 pressed condition, could not afford to give them a support, 
 and for several years they endeavored to make up the de- 
 ficiency by the varying success of a school. At length, the 
 
96 
 
 THE EARLY DA YS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 whole matter— church and school — was given up in de- 
 spair, and they retired to Sonoma, where they opened a 
 Female Seminary, principally for boarders. 
 
 This withdrawal took place about four months before my 
 arrival. From that time, of course, the condition of the 
 church was looked upon as hopeless. 
 
 There was generally a Morning Service on Sundays, by 
 the Eev. Orange Clark, D.D., (who had come out as Chap- 
 lain of the U. S. Marme Hospital), but there was no Pastor, 
 and in fact scarcely any congregation. Most of those who 
 felt any interest in the Church had joined Trinity. 
 
 On the second Sunday morning after my arrival I officiated 
 in Grace Church, Dr. Clark reading prayers. There was a 
 full congregation, drawn together, of course, by curiosity, as 
 scarcely any of them belonged there. Outside of the build- 
 ing, the appearance of things was desolate enough. Powell 
 Street had not yet been graded, and the church, instead of 
 standing as it now does, several feet below the street, was 
 then some distance above it. In front a deep gully 
 intersected Powell Street at right angles, through which a 
 small stream of water flowed. The church was therefore 
 only accessible in Powell Street, from the South, and in rainy 
 weather, there being no planking, hardly accessible at all, as 
 there was danger of being mired. On the corner was the 
 rectory — a miserable little shanty. It was shortly after leased 
 for five years to Mr. Vandewater, who, at great expense to 
 himself, transformed it into a tasteful cottage and subse- 
 quently purchased it. 
 
 That week, the two wardens, Judge Wilde, formerly of 
 Georgia, and Dr. Tripler, chief of the Medical Staff, U. S. 
 Army, on this coast, came to invite me to take the Rector- 
 
GRACE CHURCH. 97 
 
 ship. I asked them the state of the congregation, when the 
 Doctor, with a quiet smile, replied, "There are twenty 
 people inside, and the sheriff at the door." This I subse- 
 quently found to be exactly the case. After considerable 
 discussion with the Vestry, I at length agreed to take the 
 church, while out of deference to Dr. Ver Mehr he was re- 
 tained as Assistant Minister, a certain portion of the income 
 of the church, when it should have any, being allotted to 
 him. 
 
 Thus I commenced my new Rectorship. After a short 
 time the debt was paid, and the church fiUed up, so that a 
 competent support was assured to a Eector. At first, I held 
 service in the morning and afternoon, but soon found that 
 the habits of the people would make it impossible to gather 
 a congregation in the afternoon. I was obliged, therefore, 
 to have an evening service, and I think that at the present 
 time there is not in the city any religious service on Sunday 
 afternoon. For about a year Dr. Ver Mehr remained as As- 
 sistant Minister, though living at Sonoma. During that time 
 he came to San Francisco several times to officiate for me 
 on Sunday, when I was obHged to be absent from the 
 city. This, however, was inconvenient, and as, in the 
 meanwhile, other clergymen had come to the Diocese, so 
 that I could get an occasional supply elsewhere, his con- 
 nection with the church was dissolved at the end of the 
 first year. 
 
 From this time, until my return East, in April, 1857, this 
 was the scene of my labors when I could spare time from other 
 parts of the Diocese. And of all the twenty years which I 
 spent as a Pastor, there are none to which I look back with 
 so much unalloyed pleasure as to the three and a half years' 
 
98 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 Eectorship in Grace Church, with a magnanimous Vestry and 
 a kind and generous congregation. The entire period was 
 marked by unbroken harmony. 
 
 Our communicants increased in number to about one hun- 
 dred and fifty, and for some time there were more than twenty 
 families on the sexton's list, waiting for pews. For a long 
 while I had been confident, that by building a large church, 
 so that more room could be afforded, and the pew rents so 
 reduced as to bring them within the means of many who 
 could not take them at the present rates, the congregation 
 could be doubled. In this opinion the Vestry agreed, and 
 a lot was purchased at the corner of Stockton and Sacramento 
 Streets, where it was expected that a new edifice would be 
 erected in the spring and summer of 1857. Unfortunately, 
 however, after one half the purchase money had been paid, 
 it was discovered that the title was defective. The difficul- 
 ties accompanying this were very depressing and delayed the 
 undertaking two years. 
 
 In the spring of 1857, it became necessary that I should 
 go East, and I accordingly sailed on the 20th of April. On 
 the Sunday before, I ordained Ferdinand C. Ewer to the 
 Diaconate, and as he was the only clergyman unemployed, 
 I left him in charge of the church. It was not until the 
 middle of December that I returned, but during all this time 
 I had most encouraging reports of Mr. Ewer's success in 
 keeping up the congregation. On my return, therefore, 
 I resigned the Eectorship, and left the charge entirely to 
 him. 
 
 Since then the course of the parish has been prosperous. 
 A lot has been purchased on the corner of Stockton and 
 California Streets, which is now excavating for the founda- 
 
GRACE CHURCH. 99 
 
 tions of the new churcli. In a few months this will probably 
 be rising, the most beautiful church edifice on the Pacific 
 coast, and I trust that within the coming spring and sum- 
 mer the congregation will begin within its walls a new career 
 of prosperity. Yet, then, the old church will be swept 
 awa}^ and with it, so many pleasant associations of my early 
 years in California. 
 
XIII. 
 
 SACEAMENTO. 
 
 A FEW days after my arrival, I had an earnest letter from 
 the Vestry of the church at Sacramento, urging me to take 
 the Rectorship and settle at that place. Although fully 
 aware of the importance of Sacramento, as the second city 
 in the State, very strong reasons impelled me to feel that 
 San Francisco was the proper place for my residence. It is 
 the headquarters of all influence in California, the port at 
 which all from the East must necessarily land, and therefore 
 I could probably do most for the general interests of the 
 Church in this Diocese, by a residence at San Francisco. I 
 determined, however, that Sacramento should be the first 
 place in the interior I would visit, and arrangements were 
 therefore made for my holding service there on the third 
 Sunday after my arrival. 
 
 On Friday, February 4th, at four p. m., I left San 
 Francisco for Sacramento. The steamers on these rivers 
 are beautifully arranged, with staterooms, a handsome sa- 
 loon, and every comfort that is found on the fine steam- 
 boats at the East. Travelling is, however, expensive in this 
 country, either by land or water. To Sacramento the dis- 
 tance is one hundred and twenty miles, much less than that 
 100 
 
SACRAMENTO. 101 
 
 from New York to Albany. Leaving San Francisco in tlie 
 afternoon you reach Sacramento at one or two o'clock the 
 next morning. The fare is ten dollars, a stateroom three 
 dollars more, and supper a dollar and a half. 
 
 After crossing the wide-spread bay of San Francisco, we 
 reached the entrance of two straits. The most westerly 
 leads out between the high opening known as the Golden 
 Gate, and in the distance we can see the white waves of the 
 Pacific roUing along with their heavy swell, and dashing up 
 against the rocks. We took the other strait, which is 
 about six miles long and leads into an inner bay called San 
 Pablo. The strait is studded with little islands, which vary 
 in color, some of them being of red rock, while some are 
 perfectly white with guano. Toward night they are covered 
 with the sea birds. The Bay of San Pablo is about twelve 
 miles in diameter, and would furnish anchorage to the larg- 
 est navy in the world. Several little streams empty into 
 it, and on one side is an island which has received the name 
 of Mare Island. In the early settlement of the country, 
 before the wild game had been driven off into the interior, 
 they who coasted along by these shores were accustomed 
 to see roaming over this island a herd of elk, alwajs ac- 
 companied by a wild mare, who seemed to act as leader 
 and gallop at their head. She had left her natural associ- 
 ations with the wild horses pasturing on the neighboring 
 hills, and made her home with these new friends. 
 
 We then entered the Straits of Carquinez, with the little 
 village of Benicia (a military station) on the one side, and 
 Martinez on the other. Seven miles distant on Napa Kiver, 
 is another little town — Vallejo. General Vallejo, who was 
 mihtary governor of the country before its occupation by 
 
102 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 Americans, so named these towns after his wife — Benicia 
 Vallejo. Sen era Vallejo thus has her name perpetuated on 
 the coast. 
 
 For the whole distance, after leaving San Francisco, the 
 ranges of mountains by which we were surrounded had the 
 same appearance. Their shape impresses you with the idea 
 that they have been formed by volcanic action. And so, un- 
 doubtedly, they were. The strata are rent asunder and 
 piled up in confusion, showing traces of great convulsions. 
 Since we have been in San Francisco there have been 
 several shocks of earthquakes; some of which seemed to us 
 quite severe, though no damage was done. There is some- 
 thing unmistakable in the motion. The tremulousness of 
 the earth is unlike any other shock. In the southern part 
 of the State they are more frequent. Sometimes, we are 
 told, the earth rocks like a cradle and great damage ensues. 
 The old Californians shake their heads significantly when 
 they see the three and four story houses of San Francisco, 
 and prophesy that one day there will come an earthquake 
 which will shake them to the ground. Their own plan of 
 building was certainly more suitable for the countr}^, — 
 houses one story high, with adobe walls two or three feet 
 thick. These walls might crack, but could not easily be 
 shaken so far from their centre of gravity as to come down. 
 They are als© warm in winter and cool in summer. 
 
 But to return to the mountains about San Francisco. 
 No rocks are seen, — nothing but the round knolls and 
 glades on the hill-sides, generally without a single tree. 
 The meadows, however, at the base are fringed and dotted 
 with clumps of trees, which sometimes extend up the lit- 
 tle p-lens. But on the higher parts of the hills, which are 
 
SACRAMENTO. 103 
 
 exposed to the sweep of the summer winds, all is bare. 
 As the rainy season was now closing, they were beginning 
 to look green and fresh, and later they will be perfectly 
 carpeted with flowers. Through the dry season they are 
 covered with wild oats, yellow and almost golden, as if 
 significant of the mineral treasures within. This furnishes 
 abundant food to the numerous herds of cattle which are 
 scattered over them, needing no shelter through the whole 
 year, for even in winter — if the word is a proj^er one here 
 — the mildness of the climate allows them to graze at large. 
 
 Above every other object towers Mount Diabolo, three 
 thousand feet high, rugged and scathed, bearing all the 
 marks of an extinct volcano. It is probably for this reason 
 that the early Spaniards bestowed upon it the name it bears, 
 while everywhere else along the coast, they scattered the 
 names of Apostles and Saints. On one side, blue and ir- 
 regular, stretches the Coast Range, and then far on the 
 eastern horizon, as the declining rays of the sun fall on 
 their snowy peaks, we see, like a silvery chain, the moun- 
 tains of the Sierra Nevada. 
 
 After the first fifty miles, our course was through broad 
 plains, on which at times little groups of antelopes were 
 seen grazing, or through waste marshes covered with rank 
 vegetation. Through this, "the slough," as they call it, 
 winds in every direction. We sail for ten miles, and have 
 really advanced but two. We look over it and see the 
 white sail of some vessel peeping out, as if it were anchored 
 on the land. The slough is so narrow that at times it seems 
 as if two vessels would hardly have room to pass, and so close 
 do we often run to shore that it would be possible to jump 
 from the deck of the steamer to the meadow at our side. 
 
104 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 Sometimes, we turn angles so sliarp iliat the stern of the 
 boat grounds, and it requires some manceuvering to get 
 round the corner. Here and there a squatter has estab- 
 lished himself on the shore, and prepared a little patch of 
 land to raise a crop of vegetables ; or where the plains are 
 interspersed with trees, a woodman has planted his shanty 
 on the bank, and there the smaller steamers stop to " wood 
 up." Then there is seen a scattered village of the Digger 
 Indians, their little huts built of the tides, or thick reeds 
 which cover the marshes. 
 
 Occasionally, on the way, we had pointed out to us the site 
 of projected cities which existed on paper only. In the first 
 rush of adventurers to this country, amid every other kind 
 of speculation, that in land was very prominent. It was 
 seen, of course, that there must be some large cities, and the 
 only question was, " where." Speculators seized on sites 
 which seemed to offer good anchorage for commercial pur- 
 poses, and cities were laid off, and diagrams published, and 
 the lots offered for sale. Unfortunately for their golden 
 dreams in this part of the country, San Francisco and 
 Sacramento have monopolized the commercial business, 
 and the other promising young cities have faded away into 
 nothingness. We passed one of the most famous of these 
 schemes, in Suisun Bay, about fifty miles from San Fran- 
 cisco. On [!. level plain, with the range of barren mountains 
 behind it, stand three or four houses, which were intended 
 to be the germ of a future metropolis rejoicing in the awk- 
 ward name oi*'New York of the Pacific." As there is no 
 particular reason why anyone should live there, — no trade, 
 no productions but mosquitoes, — these houses will prob- 
 ably be abandoned before long, and the silence of the 
 
SA CRA MEN TO. 105 
 
 marshes will once more reign on the site of this aspiring 
 city. 
 
 I awoke in the morning to find myself at Sacramento. 
 It lies on a beautiful stream, Sacramento River, about three 
 hundred yards in width. The country all about it is per- 
 fectly flat. There are no wharves, but hulks are moved close 
 to the shore and fastened to the roots and trunks of trees 
 which grow along the edge. Over these, steamers make 
 their landings. A few hundred yards above, is the conflu- 
 ence of the American and Sacramento Rivers. Here tl^e 
 shore is lined with trees, so that looking away from the 
 young city to the north, as the raj^s of the rising sun fell 
 upon the masses of foliage, there was nothing to remind us 
 that the busy haunts of men were growing up bo near. 
 With wonderful rapidity Sacramento has grown to be the 
 second city in the state. It is laid out with the streets at 
 right angles, those running north and south being named 
 after the numbers, those east and west, after the letters 
 of the alphabet. Standing, as it does, on a level plain, re- 
 moved from the sea breezes, it is exceedingly hot during 
 the summer months, the mercury rising to over a hundred de- 
 grees. Still, it is very healthy, for in these inland places 
 there is a purity and a dryness in the atmosphere which 
 seem to prevent the heat from being felt as much as it 
 would at the East, when of the same degree. At the first 
 settlement of the city, many of the forest trees were pre- 
 served, and oaks and sycamores, frequently six feet in di- 
 ameter, lined some of the streets, throwing widely their 
 boughs and furnishing in summer a most grateful shade. 
 Shortly after, however, the city was swept by a desolating 
 fire which left little of it standing, and the fine old trees 
 
106 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 shared the fate of the new wooden buildings which had 
 been run up at their side. 
 
 Sacramento is one of the most bustling cities in the State. 
 It is one of the principal points from which the mines are 
 supplied, and as you walk through its streets you see the 
 huge wagons, with their six or eight mules, loading with 
 goods ; or you meet them on the plains in the broad Sacra- 
 mento Valley, slowly toiling onto the mountains. Twenty- 
 two lines of stages leave the city every day. The inhabitants 
 have shown a degree of enterprise and energy in building 
 up this place for which it would be difficult to find a par- 
 allel in any part of the world. They have been desolated, 
 not only by fire, but by water. During the rainy season 
 the river rises above the level of the plain on which the 
 city stands, and there have been times when the streets were 
 passable only in boats. A levee has, however, been thrown 
 up on the river bank, so high, as, probably, effectually to 
 remedy this evil. In addition to these drawbacks, the city 
 commenced with a competitor. Three miles down the 
 river, the town of Sutter was founded, which it was sup- 
 posed would be a formidable rival. It stands on rising 
 ground, and seems to be in a more pleasant situation than 
 Sacramento. But it did not prosper. There was need for 
 one town only, and therefore, as Sacramento grew, Sutter 
 dwindled away. It is now almost depopulated Four or 
 five brick buildings, one of them as large as a first class 
 hotel, stand in lonely dignity overlooking the plain below 
 — mere memorials of disappointed hopes. 
 
 It seems strange that in a city of this size and importance 
 the Church has not been securely established. I find many 
 Church people scattei'ed about among its population; some, 
 
SACRAMENTO, 107 
 
 for the present, are attending the services of the different 
 denominations, with the danger of becoming entirely alien- 
 ated, and, at all events, having their children grow up in 
 atter ignorance of the Church in which their fathers were 
 reared; while others go nowhere and are relapsing into 
 utter indifference on the subject. The Church in Sacra- 
 mento has indeed been singularly unfortunate. In Sep- 
 tember, 1849, the Kev. Mr. Burnham, of New Jersey, came 
 here in feeble health, and after officiating for a few wrecks, 
 became too weak to continue the services and died in the 
 early part of the following year. It is a strange proof of 
 the facility with which we are forgotten, that I found it 
 difficult to obtain the name of this young missionary, four 
 years after his death. Even the gentleman in whose house 
 he died could not recollect it! Then, the Rev. Mr. M. 
 visited the parish and held occasional services for a few 
 months, when he abandoned the ministry and left the coun- 
 try. In October, 1850, the Rev. Orlando Harriman as- 
 sumed the charge, but his health failing, he returned to 
 New York in March, 1852. Then occasional services were 
 held by the Rev. Mr. Pennell, a clergyman of the Church of 
 England, the Rev. Orange Clark, D. D., chaplain to the 
 U. S. Marine Hospital at San Francisco, the Rev. John 
 Reynolds, chaplain of the U. S. A., the Rev. Augustus 
 Fitch, and the Rev. John Morgan. The three last mentioned 
 returned to the East. None of these seemed to find suffi- 
 cient encouragement, and abandoned the field. At one 
 time the subject of the permanent establishment of the 
 Church was taken up by the people with considerable 
 energy, and a sufficient sum of money subscribed to pur- 
 chase a lot. While deliberating on its location, in Novem- 
 
108 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 ber, 1852, occurred the fire wliich swept off a great portion 
 of the town, and for a time paralyzed everything. Every- 
 body had lost heavily, — some everything, — and it became 
 with many a struggle for their very existence. All the 
 minutes of the meetings of the Yestr}' with other parochial 
 papers, (including the subscription paper,) had been burned, 
 the hopes of Churchmen were destroyed, and for a time 
 nothing further was done towards founding the Church. 
 In this state I found them at this visit in February, 1854. 
 
 Standing at the foot of J Street, the principal business 
 street, it presents a strange appearance. There is scarcely 
 a house in it more than one story high. 
 
 These slight wooden 'structures with canvas partitions 
 were put up hastily after the fire, and their occupants have 
 not yet been able to rex^lace them with better buildings. 
 
 Not knowing any one in Sacramento, I went to the Or- 
 leans Hotel, where shortly after breakfast, Jos. W. Winans, 
 Esq., called on me and invited me, with my son, to stay 
 with him at a house, where in company with several other 
 young men, he was keeping bachelor's hallj an invitation 
 which we accepted. This indeed is the usual style of hving, 
 even the married men having in few instances, as yet, 
 brought out their families, as they are only trying an ex- 
 periment here. There are therefore but few ladies, and the 
 number of families is small. 
 
 I spent Saturday with Mr. Winans in visiting the princi- 
 pal people who w^ere known to have been attached to the 
 Church at home, or who had shown any predilection for it, 
 to kindle up anew their zeal and prepare them for exer- 
 tion it its favor. Sunday morning came, rainy and cold. 
 The flat, unpaved streets were lying in pools of water, and 
 
SACRAMENTO. 109 
 
 it seemed almost impossible to get from one side of the 
 city to the other. Yet we had a good congregation. The 
 Methodist place of worship, (only the basement story of 
 which had been erected), was kindly offered for our use, 
 a courtesy which was extended to us on all my future visits 
 during the year — subsequently, on the arrival of their 
 clergyman, the congregation worshipped in a jDuLlic hall. 
 In the afternoon I baptized two infants, and again had ser- 
 vice in the evening. 
 
 The next day I met several of the gentlemen of the church, 
 with reference to its re-organization. As a result they 
 shortly after procured a new incorporation, (Mr. Winans 
 and Dr. J. F. Montgomery, Warden sj and a clergym-an 
 was called from the East. 
 
 While at Sacramento, I drove out with a gentleman over 
 the plains which compose the Valle}^ of the Sacramento. 
 It extends — I think about sixty miles — to the foothills, and 
 is covered with scattered oak trees, like a rolling oak prairie 
 in some of our western states. About a mile above the 
 city, on the river, we passed an old adobe house at what v/as 
 the emlmrcadero (or place of landing,) when General Sutter 
 first came into the valley. Two miles farther, on the plain, 
 is Sutter's fort. It is a parallelogram, about four hundred 
 feet each side, thus giving room within for the buildings and 
 also for enclosures for the cattle. Here, in the early days of 
 California, the old General ruled like a feudal lord. With 
 grants from the Mexican government of many leagues of 
 land, he had a territory much larger than most of the Ger- 
 man principalities, and with a small band of determined 
 white men about him — trappers and hunters from their 
 youth, — from his fort he controlled the Indians on the 
 
110 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE 
 
 plains. When gold was discovered and the rush of Ameri- 
 cans came, he received the hundreds of immigrants who ar- 
 rived, with open-handed hospitality. His cattle were killed 
 for their use, and often his land was freely given to them. 
 He became thus the prey of sharpers, who gradually stripped 
 him of his possessions. The patriarch of California and 
 the pioneer — all she has given him is the empty title of Ma- 
 jor General of the militia, a cocked hat and a pair of epau- 
 lets ! His fort, which is historical in the annals of Califor- 
 nia, is now deserted, — the wall broken down, — and the an- 
 nual rains are gradually destroying the adobe walls. 
 
 The old General now lives at the Hock Farm, on Feather 
 Eiver, some ten miles below Marysville. As he happened 
 to be in Sacramento at this time, he called on me, but as I 
 was absent, he saw my son. He talked over his past history 
 with him and " fought his battles o'er again." A Swiss by 
 birth, he had served in the European armies, and at one 
 time occupied the same tent with Louis Napoleon. But 
 the old General's day is over. He could not contend against 
 the tide of Anglo-Saxon energy which is sweeping over 
 this land, and it is probable that not an acre of his once 
 vast possessions will be bequeathed to his children. 
 
 May 11th. — Wednesday, I was again in Sacramento, for the 
 purpose of holding a service the next evening. The claims 
 of business are so great, that it is hard for many to break 
 av/ay from their week-day cares and devote themselves for 
 an hour to the calls of the other world. The Legislature, 
 too, was just breaking up and held an evening session. 
 Notwithstanding, the attendance was good, and everythiug 
 I see convinces me that they need only a clergyman of proper 
 spirit and talents, to build up a strong congregation. 
 
SACRAMENTO. Ill 
 
 It is strange how unexpectedly i^ersons' paths in life 
 cross each other. Two years before this, in the depth of 
 winter, I had been lecturing at Rochester, N. Y., before the 
 Young Men's Association, when, the next morning, on enter- 
 ing the cars for Albany, I met one of the Mr. Rochesters. 
 He requested me to take charge of his cousin, Mrs. B., who 
 had come with her children from Kentucky, and was on 
 her way to New York, to sail for California, where she was 
 to join her husband. I did so, and when we reached Albany, 
 at evening, took her to the ferry-boat by which she was 
 to cross to take the night train for New York. Here I 
 took leave of her, feeling that she was going to the ends of 
 the earth, and certainly never expecting to see her again. 
 From that time she scarcely crossed my mind until unex- 
 pectedly I met her at Sacramento, which is now her 
 home. 
 
 In the course of the day, I visited the Legislature, a 
 body which in this State seems to have the power of loco- 
 motion to a great degree. The primary meetings, when 
 the Constitution was formed, were held at Monterey. 
 Then it met at Vallejo, and then at San Jose. Then it re- 
 moved to Benicia, and in the m.iddle of this session it trans- 
 ported itself to Sacramento. As the Governor, of course, 
 follows the Legislature around the State, by remaining in 
 ojGPice for a few years, he has a good opportunity to become 
 acquainted generally with his constituents in various 
 parts. 
 
 I saw the Legislature to disadvantage, as just at the close 
 of the session every member is striving to have some favor- 
 ite bill taken up. The election of a United States Senator, 
 too, was absorbing all attention, and every other question 
 
112 THE EARL Y DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 was bending to it. These circumstances, therefore, doubled 
 the confusion which often prevails in a legislative body. 
 
 The speaker of the assembly was introduced to me as 
 Mr. Fairfax. As in my youth I had spent a winter in Virginia, 
 and knew all his family, 1 inquired to which branch he be- 
 longed, and found that he was the present holder of the ti- 
 tle, as "Burke's Peerage " entitles him, "Lord Fairfax of 
 Cameron, the tenth baron." When I last saw him at his 
 father's, he was three or four years old. Another curious 
 meeting in this far-off land ! 
 
 September 23rd. Summer had come and its heat was pre- 
 vailing throughout the interior, when I found it necessary 
 to go again to Sacramento, in answer to the appeal of a 
 member of the Church, who, just recovering from a linger- 
 ing illness, wrote to me of her " very great desire to join once 
 more in the beautiful service." There were others, too, 
 who needed spiritual services, and I felt I could not neglect 
 the call. 
 
 The hills about had put on their deepest golden hue, as 
 the wild oats had dried, it being five months since they had 
 had any rain ; and the evergreen trees which grow in the 
 valleys and defiles were thrown out into strong relief. I 
 awoke in the morning to find myself at the wharf, and in 
 as different a climate as if I had dropped suddenly from 
 the temperate into the tropic zone. When I left San Fran- 
 cisco the afternoon before, the cool sea breezes were blow- 
 ing, and I wore an overcoat. At Sacramento I found it op- 
 pressively hot, and during the three days I was there, the 
 mercury must have risen above 100°. 
 
 A month previous, another sweeping fire had desolated the 
 city, when twelve squares were burned over. Some pub- 
 
SACRAMENTO. 113 
 
 lie buildings were destroyed, including tlie court house 
 where the Legislature met, and the Congregational meet- 
 ing house. Yet with Oalifornian energy, the citizens at once 
 began to repair their loss, which will prove a public benefit, 
 as more substantial buildings replaced those that were 
 burned. The walls of the Capitol were already several feet 
 above ground. 
 
 The Vestry have lately had an answer from the clergyman 
 to whom the call was forwarded. He declines the invita- 
 tion, and they are again seeking an incumbent. 
 
 Saturday was spent, as usual, in visiting members of the 
 congregation, and particularly one young man who was h^- 
 ing at the hotel, in the last stage of consumption. He had 
 been confirmed at home, where he knew some members of 
 my family, and had a few days before asked his attendants 
 to procure for him, if possible, the attendance of a clergy- 
 man of the Church. Being sensible of his situation, it was 
 a source of great consolation to him, to have her solemn 
 rites brought to him in that hour. There is something in- 
 deed dreadful in thus dying, away from home, without a 
 friend or relative to stand by the bed-side — to feel the long- 
 ing for " old familiar faces " in that last hour of nature's 
 feebleness, as, in this case, where, resigned to all that 
 should befall him in the coming world, the sick boy declared 
 his only regret to be that he could not see his famil}^ And 
 yet, how many die in this way in California — without even 
 a friend to close their eyes, — abandoned to servants — 
 or more frequently, in the interior, without any attend- 
 ance at all. How many thousands, for whom friends 
 at home are anxiously looking, have died without leaving 
 even the record of a name behind them, and now are 
 
114 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 lying in nameless graves on the hill-sides or river 
 banks ! 
 
 On Sunday, I had two services as usual, and administered 
 the Holy Communion to twenty-one communicants. I also 
 baptized two children. In the afternoon I administered 
 the Communion to the young man I have mentioned, it be- 
 ing the first time he had received that Sacrament. Three 
 days afterwards, he died, and, as I had left the city, a layman 
 read the burial service at his grave. 
 
 This was my last visit to the parish while it was without 
 a clergyman. On the 19th of November, two months after- 
 wards, the first Rector, the Rev. Horace L. E. Pratt, ar- 
 rived and entered on his duties. From that time, the his- 
 tory of the parish is written in the annual parochial re- 
 ports. 
 
 On Monday at noon, I left for home. The steamer was 
 crowded with miners — stout, hairy, athletic fellows, most of 
 them having revolvers strapped at their sides. UiJon con- 
 versation with one of them, I learned that a flume had 
 broken in the mountains a fortnight before, and as the sup- 
 ply of water was thus cut off from extensive " diggings," 
 more than a thousand miners had been thrown out of em- 
 ploy. Some were going down to San Francisco for recrea- 
 tion; others were going home. Very few had succeeded in 
 '• making their pile." 
 
XIV. 
 
 STOCKTON. 
 
 My first visit to Stockton was by appointment for Sun- 
 day, February ITtli, 1854, in the month after my arrival. 
 The steamer leaves San Francisco at four o'clock in the af- 
 ternoon, and reaches there before daylight the next morn- 
 ing, unless detained by fogs or lowness of water in the 
 river. After proceeding for some hours by the same route 
 as to Sacramento, passing Benicia, we turn aside and enter 
 the San Joaquin Eiver. Until dark, I found the scenery 
 the same as that of the Sacramento Kiver, — broad meadows 
 covered with tules, and the river winding tortuously. 
 
 I arose at daylight, and learned that we were still a few 
 miles from Stockton, while the mist which had detained us 
 was gradually rolling off the wet marshes as the sun's rays 
 penetrated through it. The whole scenery below Stockton 
 — meadows covered with rank, luxurious vegetation — re- 
 minded me vividly of the Pontine Marshes. Formerly, 
 they were tenanted by herds of elk, which were often las- 
 soed by the native vaqueros, but the increasing population 
 has driven them farther into the recesses of the country. 
 Antelopes, at some seasons of the year, are still seen in 
 bands, feeding on the herbage, — the coyotes (a small spe- 
 cies of wolf) make there their home — while innumerable 
 
 115 
 
116 THE EARL Y DA YS OF MY E PI SCO PA TE. 
 
 large gray squirrels and flocks of water fowl find their hid- 
 ing places in the weeds and tall reeds. 
 
 As we approached Stockton, we entered a " slough " of 
 the river, which leads up through the centre of the town, 
 where it is crossed by several bridges. The town itself, like 
 Sacramento, stands on a level, and although it would 
 seem from its situation that it must be exposed to a deadly 
 malaria, yet it is tolerably health}^ Some intermittent fever 
 prevails in the autumn, but it seems to be of a mild type 
 and readily to give way to medical treatment. During the 
 summer, a breeze from the sea sets up the valley in the 
 latter part of the day, which moderates the excessive heat 
 and at the same time sweeps away malaria. 
 
 The earliest white men who visited this place were the 
 trappers from the North, — they were hardly permanent 
 enough to be called settlers. These sloughs of the river 
 once abounded with beaver, which are still occasionally 
 seen in their waters. Thither came little parties sent out 
 by the North "West Company. They penetrated through 
 the country wherever traces of beaver were found — en- 
 camping by the side of these streams, — leading a wild life, 
 like that of the Indians themselves, to whom they assimilated 
 in their habits, and whose squaws often became their wives. 
 When the season closed, loaded with pelfries, they re- 
 paired to the nearest trading post of the Company. There, 
 the winter was often spent in revelry, until spring found 
 them penniless and ready to set out once more on a new 
 expedition. Many of those who came to Stockton were 
 Canadian French, some of whose descendants still remain 
 at a little settlement on the plains, about six miles from 
 Stockton, called French Camp. 
 
STOCKTON. 117 
 
 The first permanent settler, however, was Mr. ^Yebber, a 
 German gentleman, who in 18J:4 obtained a Government 
 grant of a tract of land, covering the country for about 
 eleven leagues, and embracing within its bounds the whole 
 site of the present city, which he took active measures to 
 have colonized. His residence is just below the town, on the 
 borders of the slough. At immense expense, he has thrown 
 up banks to protect himself from the rising of the water, and 
 formed flower gardens which give a cheerful air to his place. 
 Few persons, however, would have chosen the location he has 
 selected, when, by going back a mile on his grant, he might 
 have found beautiful sites covered with old oak trees. 
 
 Stockton is admirably situated for inland trade, being 
 surrounded by mining districts to which it furnishes supplies. 
 Thei??£jcer5 and gulchesonthe Stanislaus and the Tuolumne 
 Rivers are less than seventy miles distant; while those on the 
 Mokelunme, on Carson Creek, and at " Murphy's Diggings," 
 are less than sixty. To some of these places the supplies 
 can be carried by mules only, while to others, huge wagons, 
 drawn by a long train of mules, can find a road. We saw 
 them loading at the store-houses in town, and preparing to 
 set out on their toilsome journey across the plains and up 
 throu<^h the ravines of the mountains. The drivers are 
 generally Mexicans, whose Spanish opposition to change is 
 seen in the very equipments of their mules. Their harness 
 was probably unchanged since their fathers came to this 
 country. It is found of the same pattern now on the plains 
 of Andalusia— the same array of tinkhng bells and plated 
 ornaments, as perhaps in the days of Cervantes. 
 
 We reached the wharf on the slough at seven o'clock, when 
 I was met by the warden of the church, Mr. Eastman, and 
 
118 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 conducted to the Magnolia Hotel, where I was to stay. 
 Saturday was spent in investigating the situation and pros- 
 pects of the Church, and in making preparation for service 
 the next day. The parish here was organized in August, 
 1850. The Rev. O. Harriman, Jr., (the same who was at 
 Sacramento for a time) officiated for about a month, when, 
 not receiving an adequate support, he abandoned the field. 
 In 1851, the warden, Mr. Bissell, commenced lay reading, 
 which he continued for about two years, when, to the great 
 regret of the parish, he returned to Philadelphia. From that 
 time, except during visits from Rev. Dr. O. Clark, Rev. 
 John Morgan and Rev. John Reynolds, Chaplain XJ. S. A., 
 there were no services, and while the organization was 
 preserved, the Church existed only in name. On Saturday, 
 in comj^any with the warden, I visited those who were known 
 to be favorable to the Church, to awaken their interest in its 
 behalf. This, indeed, is the only way in which anything can 
 be done in this country. Men are too much immersed in 
 business, to give heed when addressed in masses. They 
 must be sought out and appealed to, personally, to enlist 
 them in any cause, particularly one which is removed from 
 the interests of this lower world, and which holds out no 
 prospect of a golden harvest. 
 
 Notice of our service had been given in the public 
 papers, and a large room in the court house was pro- 
 vided, where the judge's seat made a good pulpit and 
 the jury room answered for a vestry room- There were 
 about three hundred persons present. The number of 
 Prayer Books produced, and the nature of the responses, 
 gave evidence of a degree of churchmanshii? which ar- 
 gued well for the founding of a strong congregation 
 
STOCKTON. 119 
 
 in this place. We had service both morning and after- 
 noon. 
 
 Monday also was spent in visiting the members of the 
 Church, and particularly one who was exceedingly ill. 
 It was a great satisfaction to me to be able, in the last closing 
 hours of life, to repeat in her hearing those familiar prayers 
 to which for so many years she had been a stranger. She 
 died that night, after my departure, and the burial service 
 was read by the warden of the church. 
 
 I left in the steamer, at four o'clock. Through the whole 
 evening, and as long as I remained on deck, the scenery 
 around us was lighted up by fires. The dry Mes which 
 cover the marshes are thus burned over every season. Any 
 accident which starts the fire— the carelessness of a party 
 camping out, or even the sparks from a passing steamer, 
 begins a conflagration which spreads over a wide extent of 
 country. Sometimes the flame swept down near the river 
 bank by which the steamer was passing, then it rolled away 
 toward the horizon in lurid masses, lighting up the whole 
 sky, and furnishing a spectacle which reminded us of 
 Fenimore Cooper's descriptions of the burning of the 
 
 prairies. 
 
 June, 1854. I went to Stockton a few weeks ago, to per- 
 form the marriage service, and again, last week, to spend 
 Sunday. Until a Eector arrives, the only way of keeping 
 the Church alive is by services of this kind. 
 
 The vestry have been endeavoring to get a lot, but owing 
 to the unsettled land titles in this part of the country, they 
 have been discouraged from attempting to acquire property. 
 Nothing can be done until there is a legal decision on the 
 validity of Mr. Webber's grant. They wrote me lately, how- 
 
120 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 ever, that tbey had subscriptions for the supjoort of a clergy- 
 man, to the amount of two hundred dollars a month. 
 They have secured, too, for their services, the use of a 
 larger and finer room in the court house. It is the hand- 
 somest and most convenient room for the purpose that I 
 have seen outside of San Francisco, — windows curtained, 
 handsome lamps hanging from the ceiling, — and without the 
 desolate appearance which public rooms generally have. 
 At our service, on Sunday, the whole floor of the room 
 was filled with chairs, and the congregation, as in the 
 winter, numbered at least three hundred. As in my 
 former visit, I si3ent Saturday and Monday in visiting 
 where anything could be said or done to advance the in- 
 terests of the cause for which I went to Stockton. 
 
 On this occasion, I stayed with the Resident Physician of 
 the State Insane Asj-lum. This institution is situated on 
 the side of the river opposite that on which the greater 
 part of the town is built, but, as I mentioned before, con- 
 nected with it by bridges. This side is now building up 
 with dwelling houses, which will make it the finest part of 
 the cit}'. The asylum is about a half a mile out, Vv^here the 
 rolling prairie commences, and is surrounded bj" trees. 
 From this place, for miles the country is covered with 
 clumps and groves of oaks, just as it is in the Sacramento 
 Valley. I rode over it, one day, for several miles, and found 
 the same characteristics of scenery. Unless a person had 
 some distant landmark in sight, he might easily lose liis 
 way on these extensive plains. 
 
 The asylum is a long brick building, having now only 
 two stories, though an appropriation has been made, at the 
 late meeting of the Legislature, to enlarge it. At present 
 
STOCKTON". 121 
 
 its one hundred and fifty patients are inconveniently crowded. 
 I went through the wards with the Doctor, and was rather 
 startled by overhearing the following conversation with 
 a patient who had been scrutinizing me for some time. 
 
 " Doctor ! is that one of the directors ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Who is he ? " 
 
 "He's a Bishop." 
 
 " What sort of a Bishop ? A Methodist ? " 
 
 "No; an Episcopal Bishop." 
 
 " I'm glad of it. If he had been a Methodist Bishop, I 
 should have had to kill him. I'm commanded to kill all 
 the Methodists." 
 
 In proportion to the population, insanity is perhaps five 
 times more frequent in California than in any other coun- 
 try. Adventurers come here from every quarter of the 
 globe, with extravagant hopes of speedy fortune. When 
 these fail, the restless, undisciplined brain is easily upset. 
 
 The following is one of many instances I have known. 
 One morning I was summoned to the door by a man in the 
 dress of a miner, who said he wished to have some conver- 
 sation with me. I, of course, invited him in, and, after we 
 were seated, he took out a small Bible, and said that he had just 
 come from the mines and desired to ask me some questions 
 on religious subjects. I found in five minutes, that he 
 was entirely deranged, his topics of conversation being a 
 mixture of religion and mining. He had met with some- 
 thing in Job, about "the vein of gold and silver," * and also 
 about "the island of the innocent/' f and he wished to find 
 
 * Job xxviii. 1. f Job xxii. 30. 
 
122 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 them again. He wanted an explanation of the Book of 
 Revelations, and also of the mystical connection between 
 Job's " seven sons " and the " seven seals" of the Apocalypse. 
 I said what I could to calm him — advising him to let the 
 prophecies alone, and to confine his reading to the Gospels 
 — and he left me, stating that he would soon return. Two 
 days after, I recognized him in a description in the newspaper 
 of a person who had committed suicide — as the coroner's 
 jury correctly stated — •* while in a state of insanity, arising 
 from sickness and disappointment in the mines." 
 
 There is one peculiarity of the California Insane Asylum 
 (which I trust will have been altered before these pages 
 see the light), that shoiild awaken the indignation of all the 
 other states sending their citizens to the Pacific. In every 
 other Christian country where I have been, the physician 
 who presides over an insane asylum is carefully selected 
 with regard to his fitness for the post, and then holds his 
 office for life or during the continuance of good behavior. 
 Here, the position is made a prize to reward political par- 
 tisans. At every change of pohtics in the State, out goes 
 the physician of this institution. Then commences a 
 course of lobbying at the Legislature, and exertions of 
 friends, and the place is finally given to one whose sup- 
 porters can command most party influence. Thus, the life 
 and intellect of hundreds of these poor invalids are made 
 the sport of politicians. 
 
 \ Of course, if the power changes every two 3^ears, so often 
 must the doctor. Even if he should be a good physician, 
 (and this does not enter into the calculations of the politi- 
 cians), he may have no particular skill in the treatment of 
 insanity. This is a special gift. And even if he should have 
 
STOCKTON: 123 
 
 it, he has no time to study the cases, to watch their changes 
 and conform his treatment to their peculiarities. The 
 whole matter is a disgrace to humanity, and when it 
 has been in agitation, and I have heard the claims of 
 the incapables urged because their relatives had done 
 service to the party, I have felt my blood boil at this in- 
 famous violation of all the laws of decency. 
 
 In November, the Kev. James S. Large arrived in Stock- 
 ton and entered on his duties as Rector. With this visit, 
 therefore, ended my charge as furnishing an occasional 
 supply to the parish. For the future, my visitations were 
 the usual ones made by a Bishop to the Church. 
 
XV. 
 
 MY FIRST CONVENTION. 
 
 The earliest Convention (so called) was held in Trinity 
 Church, San Francisco, in July, 1850, as it is expressed in 
 the report, — '* for the purpose of organizing the Diocese of 
 California.^' The opening sermon was preached by Dr. 
 Ver Mehr, and the Kev. Flavel S. Mines was appointed chair- 
 man. The Convention met for eight evenings in succession, 
 and adopted a constitution that could have been expanded to 
 meet all the wants of a Diocese the size of New York. Besides 
 the ordinary Standing Committee, they appointed a Board 
 of Trustees of the Episcopal Fund; a Board of Trustees of 
 the Diocesan Fund; Trustees of the College and Theolo- 
 gical Seminary; and a Board of managers of the Presby- 
 terium, (a place for disabled clergymen,) and of the Sani- 
 tarium, (a home for infirm widows). Most of these institu- 
 tions, after a lapse of years, have not yet commenced their 
 existence. 
 
 It is a fact but little known to the Churchmen of this day^ 
 
 that the early founders of the Church on this coast had no 
 
 idea of uniting with the general Church at the East. 
 
 There is no recognition of it in any of their proceedings. 
 
 They ignored the name of the "Protestant Episcopal 
 124 
 
MY FIRST CONVENTION. 125 
 
 Church," and called their organization " the Church in 
 California." 
 
 Knowing that while in this position no Bishop would be 
 consecrated for them, the question of attempting to pro- 
 cure the episcopate from the Greek Church was discussed, 
 previous to the meeting of the Convention. The Missionary 
 Committee had cut off the stipends for California. Dr. Yer 
 Mehr and Mr. Mines were of the opinion that the eccle- 
 siastical authority at the East had no jurisdiction over the 
 doctor, who never had been a missionary, or over Mr. 
 Mines, whom by their action they had discarded; and 
 that, therefore, they had a right to organize inde- 
 pendently. 
 
 But, apparently abandoning the idea of recourse to the 
 Greek Church, the Convention elected as their Bishop the 
 Rt. Rev. Horatio Southgate, who, having been consecrated 
 for a Mission to Turkey, from which he had lately returned, 
 was already a Bishop. He, however, declined the invita- 
 tion. Then three years passed away, during which time 
 nothing further was done to organize the Church. And 
 when the Convention met in May, 1853, in their report they 
 say: "The Diocese of California, organized in 1850, has re- 
 mained about stationary — we are obliged to confess it; nay, 
 it may in the eyes of some have seemed to be defunct. It 
 exists, but in verity we cannot say more." The Rev. Flavel 
 S. Mines had been removed by death. Marysville, where 
 the Rev. Augustus Fitch had commenced a parish, wfis 
 vacant, by his removal to the East in the previous 3^ear, and 
 the Standing Committee reported: " At this time the par- 
 ish at Marysville is defunct." The same was the case with 
 Sacramento and Stockton. The two parishes in San Fran- 
 
126 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 Cisco — Trinity and Grace — alone were reported by the com- 
 mittee as being " in a progressive condition. " 
 
 Still no advance had been made in procuring Episcopal 
 supervision. The idea was entertained here, that as they 
 had regularly organized themselves into a Diocese, the Gen- 
 eral Convention could not appoint a Missionary Bishop 
 over them. They therefore appointed a committee to cor- 
 respond with diiferent Bishops, and procure from some one 
 of them a visit for temporary services. The report of 
 the Standing Committee contains the following equivocal 
 language : " As a Diocese we ought to manage our own 
 affairs. Whether we aslc for admission into union or not, we can 
 no more rely on missionary help." A resolution, however, 
 was finally passed, " to apply for admission into union with 
 the General Convention," but without any declaration that 
 they subscribed to the government of the Church general 
 in the United States. 
 
 At the General Convention of 1853, therefore, California 
 was regarded in the House of Bishops with an evident feel- 
 ing of distrust. The impression seemed to be, that the 
 Diocese wished in some way to be independent, and that its 
 organization was made to prevent the appointment of a 
 Missionary Bishop. The General Convention, therefore, en- 
 tirely ignored the action of the Diocese, on the ground that 
 it had not subscribed to the Constitution of the Church, — 
 refused to receive its delegates, (two lay delegates being 
 present,) — and the House of Bishops proceeded to the elec- 
 tion of a Missionary Bishop. 
 
 Before I left New York, considerable doubt was ex- 
 pressed as to the state in which I should find things 
 on my arrival on the Pacific coast. The last convex- 
 
MV FIRST CONVENTION. 127 
 
 sation I had with one of the members of the Mission- 
 ary Committee, (Kev. Chas. Halsey), on board the George 
 Law, just before she left the wharf, was on this point. He 
 said to me : — " If there is any opposition, we will at once 
 send into the Diocese half a dozen missionaries, who will 
 give the majority to right principles, and be the Diocese.'* 
 I subsequently learned, that on the news of the election 
 reaching California, some, whose schemes had been thereby 
 defeated, held a caucus to discuss the question, whether or 
 not they should nullify it. Fortunately for them, they de- 
 termined to bow to the decision of the Church. For my 
 own part, I came prepared for whichever course they might 
 take. If I should be met in a proper. Churchlike spirit, I 
 was ready to respond to them with like feelings. If they 
 took the opposite course, I should have refused all recogni- 
 tion of the recusants, as Churchmen, and, regarding them 
 as schismatics, should have considered the Church in this 
 Diocese as including those only who paid a proper respect to 
 its authority. 
 
 I, however, had no cause of complaint. The day after my 
 arrival, the Standing Committee waited on me to present a 
 series of resolutions of welcome, and at our Convention, 
 four months later, the following preamble and resolutions 
 were adopted. 
 
 -' Whereas, this Convention, at its session in May, 1853, 
 adopted measures to obtain an Episcopal visitation of the 
 Diocese of California, by some one of the Bishops of Dio- 
 ceses in union with the General Convention, under the sup- 
 position that California, being an organized Diocese, was 
 precluded from the privilege of having a Missionary Bishop 
 placed in charge over her; And whereas, the General Con- 
 
128 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 vention, at its session in October, 1853, judged it canonical 
 and expedient to send a Missionary Bishop to this Diocese, 
 therefore, 
 
 " Besolved, That this Convention desires to express its de- 
 vout thankfulness to the overruling Providence of Almighty 
 God, and its very cordial satisfaction, that this Diocese has 
 thus so soon been permitted to enjoy the benefit and con- 
 solation of a Bishop's care. 
 
 "Mesolved, That this Convention eagerly embraces this first 
 opportunity to express its hearty approval of the action of 
 the Standing Committee as the representative of the Dio- 
 cese, in promptly receiving the Rt. Rev. Wm. Ingraham Kip, 
 D.D., Missionary Bishop to the Diocese of California, with 
 a reverent and affectionate welcome, to be the shepherd of 
 the sheep in this portion of Christ's fold and our beloved 
 Father in God." 
 
 On arriving in California, the question for me to decide 
 was, whether I should regard the Church as still without 
 an organization — mere missionary ground — (which the very 
 action of the House of Bishops in electing me would have 
 justified my doing), and thus begin de novo; or, accepting the 
 legislation of the Diocese as it stood, go on with it. As a 
 matter both of prudence and convenience, I determined on 
 the latter course. 
 
 My first Convention in the Diocese met May 3rd, 1854, in 
 Trinity Church, San Francisco. But two Clergymen were 
 present, the Rev. Orange Clark, D.D., late Chaplain of the 
 U. S. Marine Hospital, and the Rev. C. B. Wyatt, (the only 
 parochial clergyman in the Diocese,) of Trinity Church, 
 San Francisco. There were lay delegates from three 
 Churches, Trinity and Grace, San Francisco, (I had taken 
 
MV FIRST CONVENTION. 129 
 
 the rectorsliip of the latter,) and St. John's Church, Stockton. 
 The first and most important business was to place the 
 Church in this Diocese in a proper attitude towards the 
 Church general in our country. I therefore brought this 
 forward in my address: — 
 
 *' In concluding this address, my brethren of the clergy 
 and laity, I would ask to call your attention to one point 
 connected with the organization of the Church in this Dio- 
 cese. You are aware that the application for admission to 
 the General Convention, »t the late meeting of that body, 
 was not favorably received, nor were the delegates from this 
 Diocese admitted to seats, on the ground that there was no 
 provision in your Constitution, or in the resolutions re- 
 questing admission for your delegates, which subscribed to 
 the Constitution and Government of the Protestant Episco- 
 pal Church in the United States. The omission of this 
 clause was, of course, inadvertent, and, it seems to me, that 
 the very application to be admitted into union, was ijgso 
 facto a declaration of your assent to the Constitution of the 
 Church general. So, however, it was not regarded by 
 the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies, and your admis- 
 sion, therefore, into union with the Church at the East 
 was necessarily postponed until the meeting of the next 
 General Convention. 
 
 " There is nothing, that I can discover, in the Constitution 
 of the Church here, which impeaches the validity of its past 
 action or its present organization as a Diocese. To prevent, 
 however, any further mis-construction and to remove any 
 obstacles which may thus exist in the way of our entire 
 union with our brethren at the East, would it not be well 
 for you to remedy this omission in your Constitution ? 1 
 
130 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 would, therefore, submit this question as a subject for your 
 consideration. In that mighty conflict which the Church 
 finds each year gathering more closely about it, the sources 
 of its strength are the ties which link together those who 
 are fighting under the same banner and whose cry amid the 
 strife is, * Who is on the Lord's side ? ' While, therefore, we 
 are seeking to brighten once more the chain of brotherhood 
 which unites us to our Mother Church beyond the seas, doub- 
 ly pleasant is it to strengthen every tie which binds us to the 
 altars in our own land, where once we worshipped, and 
 where our earliest vows were uttered/' 
 
 A committee was thereupon appointed, — consisting of the 
 Bishop, Eev. Dr. Clark, Eev. Mr. Wyatt, and D. S. Turner, 
 Esq., — who reported an addition to the proper article in the 
 Constitution, by which this omission was supplied. And 
 then the Church in this Diocese was prepared to take its 
 proper place in the Church in our country. 
 
XVI. 
 
 MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. 
 
 Lent and Easter were over when I determined to Bee 
 something of the mining regions of the state. On the after- 
 noon, therefore, of Easter Monday, April 17, 1854, I left San 
 Francisco, in company with Mrs. Kip and my son, in the 
 Bragdon, which was to go through to Marysville. It was 
 with some little compunction that we selected her, for her 
 engine is high pressure, and on one of these boats, only ten 
 days before, the boiler had burst and killed thirty passengers. 
 However, a9 the result proved, she carried us both safely 
 and pleasantly to our destination. As we left our wharf, 
 the Columbia, for Oregon, with Bishop and Mrs. Scott on 
 board, (who had been spending a short time in San Fran- 
 cisco, on their way to his Diocese,) fired her gun and set 
 out on her voyage. 
 
 On the following morning, at Sacramento, we left the 
 river of that name and entered the Feather Kiver. The 
 old Californians called it the Plumas, on account of the 
 myriads of wild fowl seen on its waters, but Americans 
 have /anglicized it to Feather Kiver. The scenery here 
 begins to change in one respect. In a former chapter 
 
 131 
 
132 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 in describing my visit to Sacramento, I mentioned that the 
 lower part of these rivers, above San Francisco, was almost 
 destitute of trees. Here they are again seen, reminding us 
 of home and the East. Broad, prairie-like plains stretch 
 out on each side, which are occupied with a constant suc- 
 cession of ranches, but the narrow river is fringed with fine 
 trees, and often the boat approaches so close to them that 
 they brush her guards. 
 
 We had not more than eight or ten cabin passengers. 
 One of them, with whom I became acquainted, was going 
 up to the mines as one of the partners in a grand company 
 which was spending fifty thousand dollars in laying bare 
 about fifteen hundred feet of the bed of the Feather River. 
 Out of twenty feet square of the bed, they, last year^ 
 took one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars, 
 and, in this proportion, he expected to make some millions 
 out of their grand operation. As I never heard any- 
 thing further of the company, I suppose it exchanged — 
 as most mining companies did — golden hopes for leaden 
 realities. 
 
 About ten miles below Marysville is the ranch of the old 
 pioneer, General Sutter. It is one of the most beautiful 
 places as to situation that I have seen in any country. The 
 house, except in the centre, is but one story high. It ex- 
 tends perhaps a hundred feet, — the portico in front covered 
 with vines, — and has a very picturesque appearance. It 
 stands on a perfectly level plateau, which rises eight or ten 
 feet above the river and stretches back for miles to the 
 mountains. Here and there, over the whole extent, are 
 clumps of large oak trees, and the country, dotted with 
 groups of cattle, presents the appearance of a wide-spread 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. 133 
 
 Engiish park. The General owns several leagues of land 
 about his residence. 
 
 AVe should have reached Marysville at ten o'clock, but 
 owing to some accident in the machinery, we did not arrive 
 till three hours later. We felt, however, that this was an 
 advantage, for the day was beautiful and we had a good 
 opportunity of seeing the varied scenery of the river. Had 
 we made the proper time, much of the river above Sacra- 
 mento would have been passed before daylight. About 
 half a mile from Marysville we left the Feather River and 
 turned into a narrow, rapid stream, called the Yuba, so 
 fringed with trees at its mouth as entirely to conceal the 
 town, nor did we see it until we were close upon it. 
 
 Marysville is a thriving, growing town of about eight 
 thousand inhabitants. The hotels are well filled and a con- 
 stant stream of trade passes through it. The Presbyterians 
 and Methodists have congregations established here, and the 
 Baptists are making an effort to obtain a footing. An ap- 
 pointment had been made for me for Tuesday evening, 
 and I found the Methodist house of worship had been 
 courteously offered for our service. The attendance was 
 exceedingly good, as on a week-day evening most persons 
 in California are too busy to attend to anything but matters 
 which are " of the earth earthy." There is evidently a large 
 number of Churchmen at Marysville. 
 
 In the afternoon I walked down to the Feather River, 
 and, crossing by a primitive ferry-boat attached to a line 
 stretched across, went on a visit to the Indian village on the 
 other side. The inhabitants are a remnant of the Digger 
 tribe, and are the most degraded Indians I have ever seen. 
 They dig a cellar room about three feet deep, then place 
 
134 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 a mound of earth over it, so that there is just room to stand 
 upright, and this forms their house. There is an opening 
 about two feet square, through which they crawl into it. 
 On one side they erect a staging on poles, a few feet from 
 the ground, and on this place their provisions, making it a 
 store-house. They were lounging about in the warm sun, 
 some of them almost entirely naked, the men with sticks 
 thrust through the lower part of their ears, which adds to 
 their savage appearance. They are dying off fast, and will 
 Boon be entirely extinct. 
 
 They have one curious custom. When a member of the 
 family dies, they burn the body, and mix the ashes with pitch 
 procured from the pine tree. This is smeared over their 
 bodies and particularly over the head. I have sometimes 
 met them in the mountains, entirely naked, and with the 
 whole head, except the eyes, ears and mouth, coated an inch 
 thick, causing them to look like demons. This is left to 
 wear off and its permanency regulates the length of their 
 mourning. 
 
 At six o'clock next morning (Wednesday), we took the 
 stage for the mining country. It was a long wagon with a 
 wooden top, holding twelve persons inside. About half of 
 the passengers were Germans, and as they chattered away 
 in their native gutturals, I could imagine myself in an eil 
 wagen in Austria. For the first seven miles the country 
 was perfectly flat table-land, but it is rapidly being fenced in 
 and appropriated. We passed immense fields of wheat and 
 barley, some of them nearly a mile in length. Here and 
 there were clumps of grand old trees, while the distant 
 hills formed a fine background to the picture. We began, 
 in a few miles, to ascend the hills, after having forded 
 
AIARYSVJLLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. 135 
 
 two small streams; and, descending again, came to the 
 Yuba, of mining celebrity, which we crossed by a scow and 
 rope. On its banks commences the mining district. All 
 along are hillocks where the ground has been dug over, and 
 troughs are seen which have been used by miners to convey 
 water to the diggings, while occasionally we passed the 
 wrecks of some of that expensive machinery which at dif- 
 ferent times was introduced, but generally proved useless. 
 
 Along the banks of the river, for several miles, extend 
 flats of sand and gravel, well known as the *' Long Bar." 
 The whole space has been dug over, sometimes two or three 
 times, until it is covered with piles and mounds of earth, 
 like gigantic sand hills. Most of the miners, we were told, 
 had lately left for some new and richer mines recently dis- 
 covered at Iowa Hill, but some were still scattered about 
 through the whole length, working singly or in small com- 
 panies. Most of them use the common old-fashioned 
 rocker. They fill it with earth and water, and rock it back 
 and forth like a cradle, until the earth is washed out; while 
 the gold, being heavier, sinks to the bottom. Some had long 
 sluices — wooden troughs with a stream of water running 
 through them. Into these they shovel the earth, and in the 
 bottom are slats which catch the gold as it sinks, while the 
 earth runs off with the water. When the gold is as fine as 
 powder, they are obliged to resort to quicksilver to separate 
 it from the sand. The miners, we found, were making 
 only from two and a half to three dollars a day. The ex- 
 pense of living, however, is now much less than formerly. 
 Meals are given at the shanty eating-houses for eight 
 dollars a week. The charge two years ago was twenty 
 doUars. 
 
136 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA IE. 
 
 Mingled with these minera are Chinese, who live on the 
 merest trifle, and therefore can afford to work for a smaller 
 remuneration than Americans. 
 
 All along the river are tents or log cabins, or, at best, has- 
 tily built board houses, in which the miners are living. The 
 population, is, of course, exceedingly fluctuating, and on the 
 rumor of a richer mine, two -thirds of the people will emi- 
 grate. The only way for the Church to reach these dis- 
 tricts, is to have itinerating missionaries who can go around 
 among them and preach from cabin to cabin. Still, each of 
 the inland villages is the centre of a mining population, and 
 a Church established iu any one of them would reach hun- 
 dreds who are laboring in the vicinity. Many of them, too, 
 were members of the Church at home, and need only to be 
 sought out and recalled to their old associations. 
 
 We were all daj^ passing through hills covered with noble 
 timber. Sometimes there would be a wide expanse of 
 country, beautifully rolling and set with clumps of trees — 
 giant old oaks, the largest I had ever seen. For a gentle- 
 man's residence here are the most beautiful sites, entirely 
 free from all underwood and presenting an unequalled 
 park ready made by nature. The oaks were at times inter- 
 spersed with pines, sometimes an hundred and fifty feet 
 high, straight as an arrow, each fit to be "the mast Of 
 some great ammiral." The fields, too, and open spaces were 
 covered with the wild flowers which abound in such pro- 
 fusion in California. The prevailing colors were yellow 
 and purj^le, though others were mingled with them. Some- 
 times there would be several acres of the same hue, com- 
 pletely covering the field. At times, as we rose on the side of 
 a hill, we could see, stretching before us like a panorama, a 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. 137 
 
 ■wide expanse of valley and hill- side. In the plain beneath 
 us rose tlic Buttes, as they are called, three or four strange 
 elevations, thrown up apparently by some volcanic action 
 in the very middle of an immense prairie which reaches al- 
 most as far as the eye can discern. They rise rough and 
 ragged against the sky, entirely isolated, about half way 
 on the plain between the Sierra Nevada Mountains at the 
 east, and the Coast Range at the west. 
 
 We constantly passed the sluices or flumes built by miners 
 to carry water from some distant stream to the " dry dig- 
 gings." These are ditches about two feet square, excavated 
 from the ground, where it is possible, but often passing over 
 the valleys in wooden aqueducts. They are tapped, and a 
 stream is let out to each company of miners that hires from 
 the company. The Flume Company get about six dollars a 
 day from each company taking their supply. One of these 
 which we repeatedly passed, — the Deer Creek Ditch, — is 
 twenty-five miles in length. 
 
 There is a peculiar code among the miners, and they are 
 strong enough to enforce their own laws. One principle is, 
 that no mineral lands can be held by proprietors. A vil- 
 lage lot can be, but not a field for agricultural purposes. 
 An individual may therefore have a fine field in grain, 
 when it is discovered to be a " gold digging," and at once 
 a hundred men encamp upon it, cut it up in shares, and 
 turn up the whole surface for their own benefit. As soon 
 as miners arrive in a new digging, they elect an alcalde. 
 Any individual has then a right to appropriate a claim, 
 varying from fifteen to sixty feet square, according to the 
 richness of the mine. He drives a post at each corner, 
 another in the centre having on it his name, pays the al- 
 
138 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 calde a dollar for registering it, and the claim is liis. "When 
 he leaves, he can sell it. The real owner of the soil is not 
 consulted. 
 
 Sometimes, when a hill is equally rich throughout, it is en- 
 tirely leveled to the plain. If there is a plentiful supply of 
 water, they begin at the top and cut down until they fairly 
 wash it ail away. In some places, we saw excavations twenty 
 and thirty feet deep, w^hich had been made by the miners. 
 In others, they sink shafts to even a hundred feet in depth, 
 until they strike the right vein; then they will follow a vein 
 from one hill-side to another, and trace it on through a 
 wide extent of country. Often, rocks have to be blasted, 
 and perhaps weeks and even months spent in making tun- 
 nels and preparing to wash, when " the lead " is lost and 
 the whole scheme proves a failure. The finding of the gold, 
 indeed, sets at naught all ordinary geological laws. It 
 seems as if the whole country had been turned up by the 
 action of fire, its strata thrown into confusion, and gold 
 makes its appearance just where all scientific men said it 
 could not be found. 
 
 There is no record of the countless deaths which are tak- 
 ing place from exposure in the mines. Laboring under the 
 hot sun and in the water, sleeping on the bare ground with 
 only canvas overhead, and with unwholesome provisions, 
 the miner, reared, perhaps in ease, sinks into sickness 
 " which is unto death." A young friend of mine lived, one 
 winter, for weeks in the mines, on bread he made from 
 pounded acorns. Unlike the majority of his companions, 
 however, he lived to tell of it. 
 
 At noon we reached Eough and Keady — a straggling 
 village of five hundred inhabitants. It has been built up 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. 139 
 
 entirely as a mining centre. We stopped here to dine, and 
 at the same time I made inquiry to see if it were possible 
 for me to arrange a service for that evening. I found, how- 
 ever, that I could not, nor could I hear of a single individual 
 attached to our Church. I therefore determined to go on to 
 Grass Valley and make that my first stopping place. This is 
 but four miles distant. We therefore resumed our seats after 
 dinner and went on. It was an exceedingly rough road over 
 the mountain. In walking up a steep hill to relieve che horses, 
 I stopped to talk to some miners who were shovelling earth 
 into a sluice. I found, however, they were only " pros- 
 pecting," and it would take several days for them to decide 
 whether or not it was worth while for them to work that 
 spot. 
 
 We reached Grass Valley at four o'clock. It is said to 
 be one of the most beautiful places among the mountains, 
 and is surrounded by some of the richest mining spots. 
 On one side are the famous '' Gold Hill " mines, and near 
 are the quartz crushing mills. The population of Grass 
 Valley is estimated at about two thousand, though this must 
 include the floating mining population. We stopped at the 
 hotel (a third-rate country tavern), but on inquiring for 
 rooms, I found that Madame Anna Thillon was ''starring" 
 it here at the little theatre, and, with her troupe, had taken 
 all the best apartments. The host at last showed us two 
 miserable rooms, which were all he had for us. I then in- 
 quired for the ladies' parlor, and was informed that 
 Madame Thillon had engaged it for her dining-room. 
 " Where then " — asked I — " is the lady to sit ? " He opened 
 the door of the desolate looking, uncarpeted dining-room, 
 with a close stove at the end, and intimated that this was the 
 
140 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 only place he had. For the first time since I have been in 
 California, I saw Mrs. Kip's countenance fall, but I did not 
 wonder at it, for the prospect was dismal enough. 
 
 I knew no one in Grass Yalley, but a friend in Marysville 
 had given me the name of Mr. Winchester, and had written 
 to him the day before, to announce my coming, though 
 without knowing whether he was a Churchman. So, my 
 next step was to seek Mr. Winchester. I found his home 
 pleasantly situated on the verge of the town, and on send* 
 ing in my name had a most cordial welcome. I was further 
 delighted to hear that he was an attendant on the Church. 
 Learning that my family were with me, he walked down to 
 the hotel to insist on our taking up our abode with him. 
 
 We found Mrs. Kip not in the most cheerful frame of mind, 
 and after some faint expressions of reluctance, she consented 
 to accept his hospitality. We accordingly moved our quar- 
 ters to Mr. Winchester's pleasant residence. His fam- 
 ily are at the East, and we were inducted into their place. 
 
 Upon consultation with Mr. Winchester, it was thought 
 best that I should go to Nevada (as I wished to visit there), 
 on Friday, hold service in the evening, and then return 
 and spend Sunday at this place, where a large public hall 
 could be procured for that purpose. 
 
 Thursday, 20th. In the night we heard the sound of 
 rain, somewhat to our surprise, as we supposed the dry 
 season had commenced and we should see no more rain till 
 next November. However, Grass Valley is in the moun- 
 tains, three thousand feet above the level of the sea, and 
 therefore an exception. It has poured all day, and at times 
 there has been heavy thunder. How strange it is to real- 
 ize where I am ! I sat in the window and looked out over 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. Ml 
 
 the diggings, beginning in the very next field, which was 
 filled with sluices and mounds thrown up by the miners, 
 and just back, all along the edge of the woods and under 
 the gigantic pines, are their log cabins. Last evening, when 
 they were ending work for the day, my son went down to 
 Bee what they had gained. One party of five had gold 
 which they estimated at about twenty dollars. This is 
 probably the average wages. 
 
 In the afternoon, during a temporary lulling of the rain, 
 we walked over to the quartz crushing mills. These are es- 
 tablished by a stock company in London, and are the most 
 perfect in California. Their machinery, sent out from En- 
 gland, bore on it the name so famous to machinists — " James 
 Watt & Co., Soho," and is exceedingly beautiful. The 
 company has spent about half a million of dollars, and the 
 result of the experiment is yet to be reached. They can 
 crush about seventy tons of ore a day. After being 
 crushed several times, till reduced to a powder, it is passed 
 through sluices where the gold and black sand are caught 
 in the lining of blankets. These are then washed out, and 
 the gold is separated by quicksilver. A few hundred yards 
 distant is the celebrated " Gold Hill," from which several 
 fortunes have already been made. The top and surface have 
 been worked over by miners, while at the base it has been 
 honey-combed with tunnels following the veins of gold 
 quartz. We entered one about five feet high, extending into 
 the heart of the mountain for six hundred and fifty feet, 
 with lateral passages. At the end of it the miners were 
 then getting out quartz. 
 
 Mr. Walsh, the superintendent, mentioned to me a fact 
 which shows what a lottery mining is. He pointed out a 
 
142 THE EARL V DA YS OF AIY EFISCOFA TE. 
 
 log cabin, built on one of the gulches or ravines of the 
 hill, over one of the richest spots upon it. It was built by 
 a man who made it his headquarters, and from thence 
 went *' prospecting" over the whole adjacent country. 
 Meeting with no success, he finally sold his cabin and claim 
 for a trifle, and went elsewhere. The purchaser excavated 
 under his cabin, and actually dug twenty thousand dollars 
 from beneath the very floor on which his predecessor had 
 been sleeping. 
 
 Friday, 22d. Kain still pouring down. At eight, the 
 stage called for me to go to Nevada. The distance is but four 
 miles, over a mountain of the Sierra Navada range, Nevada 
 being situated on the other side of it. We toiled up the 
 mountain and through the old woods, by a road which this 
 sudden torrent of rain had cut up, so that our vehicle 
 rocked from side to side, and constant orders were given 
 for all to lean to the right or left, to prevent it from going 
 over. All this was sadly to the terror of the only lady pas- 
 senger, who most earnestly wished herself in San Francisco. 
 On the summit of the mountain, the storm, for a time, 
 changed to snow, and then back again to rain as we de- 
 scended to Nevada. 
 
 Nevada is unlike any other American town I ever saw. 
 Built up by the miners, without any plan, its streets are nar- 
 row and irregular, and it seems crowded into a defile of the 
 mountain. The hills tower around it on all sides, covered 
 with gigantic pines, one of which was lately cut down meas- 
 uring two hundred and fifty feet in length. Change its 
 wooden houses to heavy stone and surround it with a wall, 
 and it would be exactly like some towns perched up in the 
 recesses of the Apennines. Everything looked gloomy 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. 143 
 
 enough as we entered it — the rain pouring in torrents, and 
 the swollen Deer Creek roaring as it passed through the 
 centre of the town. 
 
 1 entered Nevada without knowing what success I should 
 have in arranging a service for the evening, or that any 
 steps had been taken for that object. The manner in which 
 I was obliged, on this journey, to feel my way from place 
 to place, is a fair specimen of the way we, here, must " seek 
 for Christ's sheep that are dispersed abroad." When 
 I left Marysville I did not know an individual at Grass Val- 
 ley or Nevada, or whether anyone there was attached to 
 the Church. I have already stated how I found Mr. 
 Winchester and had made arrangements for Sunday. 
 But what was to be done at Nevada ? It was then Wednes- 
 day, and my service would have to be on Friday evening — 
 short time, at the best, for arrangements and notice — and 
 Mr. Winchester did not know the name of a single individ- 
 ual there, likely to be connected with the Church. At a 
 
 venture, however, he wrote to a Mr. B , editor of the 
 
 Nevada Journal, and requested him to give notice for Fri- 
 day evening, in his paper,, which was to be pubhshed that 
 day, and see that the friends of the Church secured a place 
 for service. When I arrived, therefore, I called on Mr. B. 
 and found that he had accidentally stumbled on one Church- 
 man, who engaged the Congregational meeting-house for 
 that evening, and that the proper notice had been printed. 
 
 This publication brought out other Churchmen, who 
 seemed rejoiced to hear that the Church was to take some 
 notice of them. Still, the advertisement would be seen by 
 but few, as it was issued within only a few hours of the 
 time — it was raining violently — and Nevada, being without 
 
144 THE EARL Y DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 sidewalks, was covered with mud. Not a promising pros- 
 pect, certainly ! 
 
 Just before evening, tlie weather cleared. Still, the mud 
 rendered the streets almost impassable. As they were not 
 lighted, there was no such thing as picking our way. The 
 Congregational meeting-house (since burned down) was a 
 neat little building, holding about two hundred. Our at- 
 tendance was about fifty, being forty-five more than I ex- 
 pected under such circumstances. But as they came drop- 
 ping in, and I saw from their dress that a number of them 
 were miners, I felt an earnestness and interest in preach- 
 ing, greater even than I have felt in some of the splendid 
 churches at the East. After service several of the congre- 
 gation, who proved to be among the leading men of Neva- 
 da, were introduced to me, and they expressed a strong de- 
 sire to organize a Church and have regular services. And 
 thus ended the first service ever performed in Nevada. 
 Years hence, should the Church be established and flour- 
 ishing in this place, its members will look back with inter- 
 est to our initiative on that rainy evening. 
 
 Saturday, 22d. The situation of this place, crowded be- 
 tween the mountains, prevents its being built in the strag- 
 gling style usual when we commence a town with " mag- 
 nificent distances." It is perfectly compact, and contains 
 some seven thousand inhabitants, a part being the float- 
 ing population of miners who surround the town. There 
 are small Congregational and Baptist societies, and a little 
 handful of Methodists, divided, as usual in this country, be- 
 tween two chapels, — Methodist North and Methodist 
 South. Such are the beauties of schism ! The number of 
 those, however, who attend any service is lamentably small. 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. 145 
 
 I asked a gentleman, whether he supposed all the congrega- 
 tions collected on Sunday morning would amount to five hun- 
 dred persons ? He answered, he did not think they would. 
 Sunday is the great day for business, as the miners gener- 
 ally, owing to old home associations, do not work their 
 claims on that day, but spend it in town purchasing their 
 goods. All the shops, therefore, are open, and this is the day 
 for brisk trade. In all mining towns I have found that 
 the merchants generally wished to close. They would lose 
 nothing by it, were all to do so, for the miners must jiur- 
 chase a certain quantity of goods, and if the shops were not 
 open on Sunday, they would be obliged to buy on some 
 other day. There are always, however, some Jews, who will 
 keep open, and the rest think themselves obliged to do so, 
 to prevent the Israelites from having the monopoly of 
 trade. The passage and enforcement of a Sunday law 
 would make an entire revolution in the moral and religious 
 life of these places. 
 
 Around Nevada are the most extensive mining operations 
 in the State. The whole land is rich with gold, and even a 
 part of the town has been undermined, and the houses are 
 propped up by beams. It is said, there is not a foot of 
 ground but contains gold; but as labor is too high to have it 
 all worked, only the rich veins are followed out. 
 
 We walked out this morning a few hundred yards beyond 
 the limits of the town, and suddenly found ourselves on the 
 edge of a precipice on the side of the mountain, down which 
 we looked an hundred feet. It is an immense excavation 
 made by the miners, who have thus literally washed away 
 half the mountain. The earth is gradually carried away in 
 their sluices, down to Deer Creek, which runs throup^h the 
 
146 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 ravine below, and thus the whole mountain will eventually be 
 removed and reduced to the level of the plain. In this ex- 
 cavation, called Lands' Mine, one hundred and fifty men 
 were working. They are hired by the company and have 
 no interest in the mine. 
 
 There is a rich deposit of gravel, from fifty to one hun- 
 dred feet broad, which runs through these hills. It was 
 once the bed of a river. It winds from hill to hill li'ke a 
 serpent, and to trace it tunnels are driven, so that these 
 hills are all perforated and honey-combed. When it is 
 struck at a distance below the surface, a shaft is sunk, up 
 which the earth is drawn that it may be washed out. These 
 shafts again are all connected by tunnels, to give a circula- 
 tion of air and to prevent the collection of noxious gases. 
 We saw one, a hundred and thirty feet deep, at the bottom 
 of which five men were working, while the earth was drawn 
 up by horse power. The gold here is all of the best kind, 
 but never found in lumps or grains, only in powder as fine 
 as flour. It can be collected, therefore, by quicksilver only, 
 which is placed in the sluices through which the water and 
 earth are poured. The quicksilver, by its natural affinity, 
 attracts the gold and amalgamates it while the earth runs 
 off in the water. By application of heat to a retort, the 
 quicksilver is then evaporated, leaving the pure yellow 
 metal. 
 
 It is never safe in California to judge of a person by his 
 dress. You are thrown into contact with rough-looking peo- 
 ple in a stage coach, and before you have travelled five miles, 
 find they are college-bred, — perhaps professional men at 
 the East. You speak to a miner in n red flannel shirt, 
 about the geological formation of the mine in which he is 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. 147 
 
 working, and the first sentence of his answer — the very 
 wording of it — shows him to be scientifically educated, and, 
 by his training, an accomplished man. The proprietor of 
 a book store in one of the mining towns told me, that the 
 roughest looking men came in to ask for classical works 
 on these and on every other scientific subject. Astronomy 
 seemed to be a particular favorite with them. 
 
 We were looking at a deep excavation, when a person 
 ascended from it dressed like a miner, and, coming forward, 
 called me by name. His face seemed familiar, but I could 
 not recognize him, and he was obliged to introduce himself. 
 Six or seven years ago he was a vestryman of my church in 
 Albany, being then a merchant in extensive business. About 
 five years ago he came out to the mines, where he had 
 suffered all kinds of reverses, and endured the usual hard- 
 ships, until now he was beginning to reap a reward in the 
 prospect of fortune. He had extensive claims on these hills, 
 and employed fifteen or twenty workmen in his " dig- 
 gings," which he was preparing to work by machinery. 
 His family had joined him a few months before, and were 
 living in a board cabin he pointed out to me, which he had 
 erected on the hills near his claims. His wife and daughter 
 had been communicants in my church in Albany, and I 
 walked over to see them. The home in which I had last met 
 them, was a three story brick house. Such unexpected en- 
 counters are common in California, and this was the second 
 I had had in Nevada in twenty-four hours. 
 
 Among the vegetable productions of California peculiar 
 to this country, is the soap plant, which the gentleman with 
 me pointed out growing on these hills. It looks like a lily, 
 and has a large bulbous root. He pulled up one, crushed 
 
148 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 it with a stone, and then proceeded to wash his hands in a 
 neighboring pool of water. His hands and the water were 
 at once covered with a lather like soapsuds. It is an ex- 
 cellent substitute for soap, and is used for that purpose by 
 the old Calif or nians. 
 
 After spending the greater part of the day in visiting 
 those who were favorable to the object for which I had come, 
 and making the necessary arrangements to establish the 
 Church, at four o'clock we set out in the stage on our re- 
 turn to Grass Valley. The day had been beautiful ; the 
 roads were already drying up ; the air was pure and brac- 
 ing ; and there could be no greater contrast than between our 
 ride this afternoon and that through the storm of the day 
 before. We wound in and out among the old patriarchs 
 of the forest, and everything had an air of freshness, as if 
 we were in a newly discovered land. I cannot remember that 
 I ever enjoyed a ride more. In about an hour we reached 
 Grass Valley, and found ourselves again at the hospitable 
 residence of Mr. Winchester. 
 
 Sunday, 23rd. As beautiful a day as ever shone ! The 
 diggings which I see from my window are nearly deserted, 
 only a solitary miner here and there using his pick. A few 
 Indians and Chinese are scattered about. In the village 
 a few shops only are open, together with some gambling 
 saloons kept by Frenchmen, whose object is to decoy the 
 miners into spending the hard-earned wages of the week. 
 
 We had a morning service in a public hall, and a con- 
 gregation of about fifty, among them some of the most in- 
 fluential families in the village. Quite a number, too, were 
 young men of the class adapted to form the strength of a 
 congregation. In the afternoon we removed to the Pres- 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. I49 
 
 byterian house of worship, which had been offered to us the 
 evening before, their congregation having no service at that 
 hour. Our attendance was over one hundred. Out of the 
 two thousand persons in Grass Yalley, not three hundred 
 are found at one time in the different places of worship on 
 Sunday. The congregation at the Presbyterian house of wor- 
 ship varies from fifteen to fifty. I found numbers of persons 
 who acknowledged to me that they never went anywhere, 
 for there was nothing to interest them ; but they assured me 
 if the Church was estabhshed here, they would support it 
 and attend regularly. 
 
 There is some society to be found in this distant village 
 as refined as any in our eastern states. On Thursday 
 afternoon I had spent a very pleasant hour at the house of 
 Mr. Melville Atwood. He is from England, and has come 
 out to direct the scientific arrangements of the English 
 Quartz Company. His wife is a sister of Prof. Forbes of Lon- 
 don, who, in science, has a world-wide celebrity. AYe had 
 promised to dine with them on Sunday evening. In addi- 
 tion to his family, we found a guest staying with him — Sir 
 Henry Huntley. Sir Henry is a captain in the British 
 navy and was formerly Governor of Prince Edward's Island. 
 He was sent out from England, in command of a company 
 of Cornish miners, to superintend the quartz works belong- 
 ing to an association there. Of course the company went 
 to pieces, as the courtly Sir Henry was not intended by 
 nature for such work. 
 
 Monday, 24th. Wc did not send to the stage office till 
 last evening, and then found that every place was taken 
 and we must remain another day. Willie has been out in 
 the diggings trying mining. He washed out several pans 
 
150 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 of earth, but, not being very skilful, did not get more than 
 twenty-five cents worth of gold. 
 
 Mrs. Kip had been with me, making visits and perfect- 
 ing our acquaintance with the people of Grass Valley. We 
 passed, in the village, an exceedingly pretty cottage, in- 
 habited by Lola Montes. It has a conservatory behind it, 
 and flowers and bird cages about it, giving it an air of taste 
 and refinement. She is said to have a pension from the 
 King of Bavaria, who, when she was his cliere amie, gave 
 her the title of Countess of Landsfeldt. Among her pets, 
 — and we were told she has a number, — is a young grizzly 
 bear which was chained to the stump of a tree just outside 
 her front court-yard. We stopped for a moment to look at 
 it, and while so engaged, Lola came out on the porch to ar- 
 range her flowers. She has a rather fine countenance, as 
 well as we could judge at the distance. We cannot imagine 
 what induced her to select this retired village for her resi- 
 dence, after the kind of life she has led in Europe. 
 
 Tuesday, 25th. The rain came on again last evening, and 
 it has literally poured through the night. This morning 
 was not much better j but as these mountain storms some- 
 times last for a week, nothing remained for us but to set out 
 for home. The stage — a long wagon — came at seven o'clock, 
 and, ourselves included, there were twelve inside. Just as 
 we set off, the rain ceased and we had no more that day. 
 Through the morning, however, it was like a fitful April 
 day, — alternate clouds and sunshine. We took a different 
 road through the country, from that by which we came, 
 traversing the side of the mountains and directing our course 
 towards Sacramento. The mountain streams had been 
 swollen by the rains, and in several through which we passed. 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA, 151 
 
 the water came up to the body of the carriage. Then, too, 
 we were constantly kept on the qiii vive by the directions of 
 the driver, — " To the right, or the stage will be over ! " — 
 *' To the left ! " etc. — obliging us continually to " trim ship," 
 to the manifest terror of the two ladies within. We passed, 
 every few miles, traces of mining and excavations, or saw long- 
 flumes stretching across the landscape. The country is what 
 at the West they call " oak openings," covered with large 
 trees without any under-brush. Occasionally there were 
 large fields under cultivation, where the settler had de- 
 voted himself to the certainly of agriculture instead of 
 the lottery of mining. 
 
 At noon we reached Auburn, so named by one of the first 
 settlers, who came from Auburn in the State of New York. 
 Situated, however, as it is, among the mountains, it cannot 
 be called 
 
 *' Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain." 
 
 It is now a stirring mining town, surrounded by extensive 
 diggings J but let the mines give out or better ones be dis- 
 covered five miles distant, this would soon be " the de- 
 serted village." As we left the town, we passed through 
 a street inhabited entirely by Chinese, who are to be met 
 with in all parts of the mines. 
 
 Descending into the plain below, we had magnificent 
 views of the Yalley of the Sacramento which stretched far as 
 the eye could reach, seeming to be an unbroken expanse 
 of forest land. The sun was shining brightly, and every 
 pleasant little nook we passed appeared to be occupied by 
 miners. Sometimes there was a neat cabin, as if the oc- 
 cupant had made up his mind to a long residence, but gen- 
 
152 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 erally there were only canvas tents. They looked so pleas- 
 ant, however, this bright afternoon, the men working in the 
 gulches, that a passer-by would imagine mining to be a 
 most agreeable emplo^^ment. 
 
 A few miles farther on we reached the level of the plain 
 —the distance from the mountains to Sacramento is about 
 thirty miles, — a rolling country covered with clumps of old 
 oaks scattered about. Here would be a single tree, there a 
 clump of half a dozen, then a wide grove. We passed hun- 
 dreds of sites where I could not help imagining how beau- 
 tiful some of the old halls in England would look, if they could 
 be transported to these spots. It extended, too, as far as 
 the eye could reach, often for miles without a habitation or 
 a fence. The late rains had laid the dust, everything was 
 fresh and green, the atmosphere was just cool enough, and 
 altogether it was a delightful drive. Now and then we came 
 to a ranch house kept as a hotel, where we changed horses, 
 or to the cabin and little enclosure of a settler. 
 
 Of the land which belongs to the United States Govern- 
 ment, any actual settler may appropriate to himself a hun- 
 dred and sixty acres, free of purchase ; and as we looked at 
 this wide expanse of magnificent unsettled country, with its 
 fine agricultural advantages, and remembered the millions of 
 toiling farmers in the old world, who are laboring year after 
 year for a mere subsistence and are crushed down by taxes, 
 I asked myself, why will they not come over and "possess 
 the land " which seems to be waiting for their occupancy. 
 And one day the Valley of the Sacramento will be thus 
 filled. 
 
 The great drawback in the greater part of this Valley is 
 the want of water. Late in the summer the herbage is en- 
 
MARYSVILLE, GRASS VALLEY AND NEVADA. 153 
 
 tirely dried up, and the country loses its livery of green till 
 the rainy season comes again. Perhaps the experiment 
 might be made which has been so successfully tried in the 
 Valley of San Jose, and water provided by digging artesian 
 wells. Were this to be done successfully, it would supply 
 the only deficiency which is felt here. 
 
 As the twilight deepened, we could see the teamsters, in 
 different parts of the plain, kindling fires by the side of their 
 huge wagons and preparing to camp out tor the night ; while 
 the little prairie wolves (coyotes), startled by the noise of 
 our vehicle, sprang up and dashed away into the darkness. 
 It was just at evening that we crossed the river by a bridge, 
 and entered the streets of Sacramento, having driven about 
 seventy miles since breakfast. 
 
XVII. 
 
 SAN JOSE. 
 
 It was in May after my arrival that I made my first visit 
 to San Jose and the first service of our Church v^as held 
 there. This was followed by other visits at intervals, and 
 although five years have now elapsed, and, owing to the 
 want of clergy, we have never had a resident minister there, 
 yet, in pursuance of my plan, I record the visit as the first 
 effort in behalf of our Church in that place, and, therefore, 
 when the Church is established and San Jose has lost all 
 its old California features, to be a matter of interest. 
 
 We left San Francisco, on Monday morning at eight 
 o'clock. The stage had nine inside, all but ourselves being 
 French. For the first few miles the road was over hills 
 like those which immediately surround San Francisco, with 
 scarcely a tree to be seen. Then we came to the wide-spread 
 plains, stretching, far as the eye can reach, towards the edge 
 of the ocean. For miles there will be no fences or enclos- 
 ures — no houses, only one vast prairie. Here and there we 
 see herds of the wild cattle, easily distinguished from 
 the domestic by their large branching horns, or groups of 
 wild horses grazing about. Then, a herdsman, wrapped in 
 154 
 
SAN yos£. 155 
 
 his scrape, would pass, with his huge spurs jingling like 
 bells. 
 
 Having been up very early and finding the monotony of 
 the road rather tiresome, I had fallen asleep, when, shortly 
 after eleven, I was awakened by the stopping of the vehicle. 
 I roused up, and opening my eyes, seemed to have dropped 
 into another country. The stage was standing before a 
 tasteful house and around us were groves of noble trees. On 
 the other side of the road were cultivated pleasure grounds, 
 while through the foliage was seen a country seat, with its 
 conservatory on one side. I rubbed my eyes and asked 
 where I was. I found we had reached San Mateo, one of 
 the favorite summer resorts of the San Franciscans. With 
 a mild atmosphere, freed from the high winds which prevail 
 nearer the ocean, these secluded valleys furnish a pleasant 
 change from the city. 
 
 Beyond San Mateo, the country is diversified with fine 
 rolling surface and groups of old trees extending to the hori- 
 zon. Occasionally we passed noble ranches comprising 
 thousands of acres. Sometimes a single field of grain 
 will contain three hundred acres. It was a delightful 
 drive through the mild and balmy air, and at three 
 o'clock in the afternoon we reached Santa Clara. This is a 
 little village, the houses of which are about equally divided 
 between the old Spanish adobe buildings, as usual one story 
 high, and the new, pertlooking residences of the late American 
 settlers. At the edge of the town is a three-storied, red brick 
 building, without an attempt at ornament, or a tree or a 
 shrub near it; looking very uncomfortable and very much 
 out of place, as if it had wandered away from some city. 
 This, I was told, was a school belonging to the Methodists, 
 
156 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 which rejoiced in the magnificent title of — " The University 
 of the Pacific." 
 
 This place is the seat of the old Romish Mission of Santa 
 Clara. The old church, with its low walls, covers a great 
 extent of ground. The front has a coat of white plaster 
 gaudily painted with figures in the Spanish style. The old 
 mission buildings attached to the church have been con- 
 verted into a college, which contains a large number of pu- 
 pils. 
 
 The Alameda from Santa Clara to San Jose — three miles 
 in length — is exceedingly beautiful, being arched the whole 
 distance with trees. They were planted by the old priests, 
 in the days of their rule, and stand in three rows, one on 
 one side, and two on the other where the footpath ran. 
 You look down the road, through a vista of foliage, far as 
 the eye can reach, and so it continues to the very entrance 
 of San Jose. 
 
 This place is considerably larger than Santa Clara, and has 
 the same mixture of American and old Californian popula- 
 tion. The valley in which it is situated is about twenty 
 miles broad by a hundred long, hemmed in by mountains. 
 With a climate of perpetual summer, it is considered one of 
 the garden spots of California, and when the projected 
 railroad connecting it with San Francisco is finished, this 
 valley will be filled with the villas of citizens who will take 
 refuge here at times from the crowded city. The legisla- 
 ture once met here, but it proved to be too dull a place for 
 their taste and they preferred the bustle of Sacramento. 
 It is indeed as quiet as can well be conceived, presenting a 
 strange contrast to the usual excitement of Cahfornia. We 
 look out from the balcony of the house where we are stay- 
 
SAN JOS£. 157 
 
 ing, and opposite are Spanish adobe houses, the inmates of 
 which seem to be lounging about, enjoying the " dolce far 
 niente," never excited except when on horseback. After- 
 noon comes, warm and quiet ; the whole population seems to 
 be taking its siesta; and you hear no sound except the insects 
 wheeling round and droning in the air. 
 
 Tuesday. We drove out for about a mile, to a ranch on which 
 is an artesian well. The proprietor was boring for water, 
 when, at about seventy-five feet below the surface the in- 
 strument fell out in a stream of water three and a half feet 
 deep, and a rapid current at once gushed forth. The head 
 of water is seven inches in diameter, and placing in it a 
 pipe five feet high, it rose at once with great force to the 
 top. There is sufficient volume of water to irrigate a 
 farm of one thousand acres. On the next ranch, a short 
 distance off, the experiment was tried again with the same 
 success. These were the first efforts of the kind, but since 
 then water has been obtained, not only for the town, but 
 for any part of the valley, thus supplying the only need 
 which was felt,— water in the dry season. There is evi- 
 dently a subterranean stream running under the valley. 
 
 On the Alameda we passed a splendid tract of land of 
 three thousand acres, surrounded by a wire fence, which was 
 purchased by Commodore Stockton at the first annexation of 
 the country. It was then an old Spanish grant owned by 
 Ignacio Vallejo. The greater part of it is now under culti- 
 vation. 
 
 In the afternoon a gentleman called to take me driving. 
 We crossed the plain to the mountains about seven miles 
 distant. For the greater part of the way there was no 
 road, but we were guided by taking for our direction the 
 
158 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 point in the movmtains to which we wished to go. Part of 
 the way was through grass which almost concealed our 
 horse and wagon, and then we would drive over a large 
 unfenced tract, the crop from which had just been reaped 
 and was lying on the ground. It was what they call 
 " the volunteer crop." After the grain has been gathered 
 in, there springs up at once, without any planting, another 
 crop which can be reaped in a few months, not of course 
 equalling the first, but yet often surpassing the ordinary 
 yield in the Atlantic States. 
 
 We were going to visit a gentleman from New York, who 
 was owner of a wide tract of land at the base of the hills, 
 which he was placing under cultivation. We found his 
 primitive wooden house on the first knoll at the base of the 
 high mountains rising stage after stage behind it. From 
 the front we had a magnificent panoramic view of the plains, 
 bounded at the distant horizon by mountains, except at one 
 spot where we saw dimly the blue line of the ocean. Below 
 us stretched out his wide fields — thousands of acres under 
 cultivation, without a single fence. It was agriculture on a 
 scale which dwarfed into insignificance most of our Northern 
 and Eastern farms. His cattle had free range over the 
 mountains, and we saw them several miles distant coming 
 over the hills, driven home by his herdsmen on horseback, 
 to be shut up for the night. His corral (enclosure for 
 cattle) was in a ravine through which a stream of water 
 flowed. The great advantage of farming here is, that no 
 forage need be hoarded up for winter. Stock feed out the 
 whole year and take care of themselves. In the dry season, 
 they find food in the ravines through which the streams 
 flow^ or feed on the wild oats on the hills. The winter, too, 
 
SAAT yosjs. 159 
 
 is so mild that they require no shelter. At the East, the 
 prominent object on a farm is the barn. Plere, you never 
 see one. " All out doors " is the barn, and for the cattle the 
 corral is all that is necessary. 
 
 We reached the village again at evening, often puzzled to 
 determine the direction we should take, as we were so buried 
 in the tall grass as to be able to see nothing about us. I 
 can readily understand, how on these, to the eye, boundless 
 plains, travelers are often lost, and wander for days before 
 they regain the proper direction. 
 
 On our way, we passed a little wooden building, which 
 my companion pointed out to me as a school-house, in which 
 a curious assembly meets two evenings in the week. It is 
 composed of grown up and even middle aged people, — gen- 
 erally Westerners who had originally no advantages of ed- 
 ucation — gathered there to learn spelling. Though the 
 object was highly praiseworthy, their efforts — he said — were 
 sometimes most ludicrous. 
 
 Wednesdat/ 24th. At San Jose the Eomanists have founded 
 the largest female seminary they have in the State. It is an 
 extensive brick building, with one side left unfinished that a 
 wing may be added. Its cost, so far, has been about seventy- 
 five thousand dollars. On visiting it, we were received by 
 one of the sisters, who conducted us through the different 
 departments. There is one room for the California (Spanish) 
 girls, who bore on their countenances the unmistakable 
 marks of their race, another for the English girls, and 
 a third for the smallest children. The dormitories and 
 other rooms are all exceedingly neat, and the charges, as 
 shown by their printed circular, apparently very cheap. I 
 understand, however, from those who have had daughters 
 
160 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 there, that " extras " make the school as expensive as any 
 other. 
 
 There are fourteen sisters in charge of the establish- 
 ment, and about one hundred and fifty pupils. Of the 
 latter, one half are Americans and very many are Protest- 
 ants. All are obliged to attend Mass, and I satisfied myself, 
 that, notwithstanding great professions to the contrary, the 
 sisters do exert a constant, although silent, influence to draw 
 pupils to their faith. Of this we had a convincing proof be- 
 fore our visit was ended. When we entered the little 
 chapel, I was surprised to see the young lady (a pupil) 
 who was conducting us around, kneel and cross herself 
 most devoutly. Upon inquiry, I found she was a " convert," 
 made so before she had been there three months, and bap- 
 tized without the knowledge of her parents. These women, 
 therefore, to whose care her training had been committed, 
 instructed her to begin her religious life by violating one 
 of her first duties. But while Protestant parents will con- 
 tinue sending their children to such places, they must ex- 
 pect like results. 
 
 From there we walked to the parish church of San Jose. 
 It was locked, but a sub-pretre, whom we found in the porch 
 of a cottage near by, sent a boy to open it for us. Like all 
 other churches of the kind, it is of adobe, and is built in the 
 shape of a cross. Its very thick walls and small square 
 windows remind one of the crypts in old Italian churches. 
 The paintings and engravings on the walls are crude. There 
 are perhaps not more than six pews on each side of the nave, 
 while, scattered over the floor of the transepts, are the little 
 square carpets on which the Spanish women kneel to pray. 
 
 At evening we had our first service. The Presbyterian 
 
SAN yos£. 161 
 
 house of worship had been courteously given us for the 
 occasion. The building, which was small, was well filled, 
 and I found later that there were many Church 
 people in the neighborhood. Among those present 
 was a classmate of mine at Yale College — Mr. Douglas — 
 whom I had not seen since we graduated in 1831. He be- 
 came a Congregational minister and had since been a 
 teacher in the Young Chief's School at the Sandwich 
 Islands. He came here in 1847, to join his brother, who is 
 the owner of a ranch in the neighborhood. 
 
 Thursday. A party was formed to-day to drive out to 
 the celebrated Almaden Quicksilver Mines. After going a 
 few miles, we crossed the plain and entered the mountains, 
 where the scenery was beautiful, as we drove around the 
 hills covered with park-like oaks. The road wound by a 
 running stream, and now and then we passed the ranch of a 
 Californian. 
 
 The quicksilver works are very extensive, the mine be- 
 ing the richest in the world. This year, the com- 
 pany makes one million of dollars worth of quicksilver. 
 The cinnabar is so rich that it yields seventy per cent. The 
 works are of brick, and we were shown the large reservoirs 
 filled with quicksilver. The atmosphere is most stifling, 
 and must be destructive to health, as we were told that 
 breathing it sometimes salivated the workmen. 
 
 The ascent to the mines is by a winding path leading up 
 the mountain for more than a mile, and then there is a de- 
 scent of some three hundred steps. I did not attempt this 
 entrance into the bowels of the earth, but contented myself 
 with the report of those who did go. Most persons make 
 such expeditions merely to boast of them. Chateaubriand, 
 
162 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 when a week at Cairo, could not spare an extra day to visit 
 the pyramids, but begged a friend to write his name on 
 that of Gizeh, that it might hereafter be beheved that he 
 was there. 
 
 From the side of the hill a spring wells out. The water 
 has a strong medicinal quality, resembling soda water, and 
 effervesces in the same way, when mixed with syrup. 
 
 We lunched under the trees, picnic fashion. By the side 
 of us ran a stream, and just within sight were some canvas 
 and reed houses which the Californians erect for the hot 
 weather. Their inmates, however, make but little use of 
 them, except for sleeping, their days being spent in the 
 open air. 
 
 The drive back was delightful, the air as balmy as that of 
 Italy. In San Jose everything was so quiet that it seemed 
 as though the whole town must be asleep. Likely most 
 people were taking a siesta, as enough of the old Spanish 
 poj)ulation remains, to counteract in a degree the restless- 
 ness of the Americans among them. 
 
 Friday. We left in the stage at seven in the morning, 
 to return to San Francisco b}'' a different route on the other 
 side of the bay. For almost the whole distance, the road 
 led over wide-spread plains, sometimes for miles without 
 a fence or a house. The country' has a ''sealike sweep," 
 while the hills are set round it like a mighty frame. Often 
 the road could hardly be marked, while the wild mustard, 
 with its yellow flowers, was higher than the horses' backs. 
 Occasionally, nestling in a sunny nook, we would pass 
 some milpas, — Indian huts of weeds or brush, — or an old 
 California house with the occupants lounging out of doors — 
 or the more comfortable looking wooden house of some 
 
SAN yosE, 163 
 
 American settler, who had " located " on the plain and en- 
 closed his garden about him. Several times we drove over 
 the dry pebbly beds of the arroyos, showing the places of 
 streams which in the rainy season it would perhaps be 
 difficult to ford. 
 
 After a ride of about twelve miles, we turned aside to 
 what was once the Mission of San Jose. The Mission house, 
 a spacious adohe building, with long corridors, is now occu- 
 pied by Mr. Beard. The church, like all the old Spanish 
 churches, covers a great deal of ground, and bears on its 
 front traces of once having had fresco paintings. It is still 
 held by the priests. The little settlement around it con- 
 sists of a tavern and a few adobe houses, occupied principally 
 by Spaniards and Californians. Everything around them is 
 primitive — even the low carts standing at their doors, with 
 two wheels about two feet high, each cut in the most 
 clumsy style out of a solid block of wood. The long ranges 
 of native huts, once occupied by the Indian converts, are 
 still visible, but broken down and roofless, while each rainy 
 season wears away the adobe walls, so that they will soon 
 be reduced to the level of the plain. A little beyond the 
 settlement is the old burying ground, but its fence is gone 
 and the tall black cross in the centre is tottering to its 
 downfall. 
 
 Mr. Beard, the present owner of the Mission building, 
 is one of the greatest agriculturists in California. He 
 claims the whole plain for some leagues around, and from 
 the Mission you see his fields stretch over the lower ground 
 for miles. They are well fenced in and show the energy of 
 American cultivation. 
 
 Here we took in two new passengers — Spanish women. 
 
164 THE EARL Y DAYS OF MY E PI SCO PA TE. 
 
 witli their rebo^os over their heads in place of bonnets, and 
 dressed in rich silks and ornaments, as if for a ball. They 
 conversed in Spanish and smoked their cigarettes. At one 
 place we passed a vineyard surrounded by a hedge of roses 
 which served as a fence. The whole country seemed cov- 
 ered with potatoes or wheat. The latter was in fields of 
 sometimes a thousand acres each, often the volunteer crop, 
 but promising abundantly. A railroad is greatly needed to 
 open a market for these crops, as, with wages and freight 
 at present rates, it does not pay to transport them to San 
 Francisco. At one place, we saw a mound of potatoes, 
 about five hundred feet long, by ten wide and five high, 
 left to rot upon the ground. 
 
 We stopped once at a little hamlet called Union City, 
 to change horses, and again at a tavern built upon Castro's 
 Eanch, to dine. At three o'clock we reached the Bay — 
 passed through the growing towns of Alameda, Clinton and 
 Oakland, within a mile of each other, situated among groves 
 of oak trees, and soon to be covered by the villas of the 
 San Franciscans — and taking the ferry, in three quarters 
 of an hour, arrived at home. 
 
XVIII. 
 
 iMONTEEET. 
 
 A SEVEEE illness in the summer, probably the result of my 
 passage over the isthmus and change of climate some 
 months before, had quite prostrated me; but having made 
 an appointment at Monterey for the 30th of July, I deter- 
 mined to endeavor to fulfill it. I hoped that the change of 
 air and a short sea voyage would, before Sunday came, fit 
 me for my duties. 
 
 On the previous Thursday afternoon at four o'clock I left 
 San Francisco, with Mrs. Kip, in the steamer Sea Bird. 
 ^Ye had about thirty passengers on board. We passed 
 through the Golden Gate, which just six months before I had 
 cnterrd for the first time with such a feeling of loneliness— 
 a feeling which the kindness of many friends had since 
 so entirely dissipated— and when night closed about us, we 
 were already far out at sea. 
 
 When I left my stateroom at seven the next morning, I 
 found from the revolution of the wheels that the steamer 
 was going very slowly. The Captain supposed us to be 
 opposite the Bay of Monterey; yet being unable to see 
 
 165 
 
166 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 any headlands, we were feeling our way into the harbor. 
 Above us was the bright blue sky, lighted up with the clear 
 sunshine; but all around was a thick fog which completely 
 obscured the land and prevented us from seeing our position. 
 And so we slowly went forward, till about nine o'clock; when 
 the heat of the sun seemed to melt away the mist, and we 
 found ourselves, where we should have been, at the entrance 
 of the harbor. Point Lobos was on our right; the placid 
 bay, without a single sail, was before us; and there, in that 
 beautiful basin, was the old town of Monterey. In a few 
 moments the steamer's gun was heard echoing from the 
 neighboring hills, waking unusual sounds in that quiet scene; 
 and we came to anchor within a few hundred yards of the 
 sandy beach, on which the tide was gently rippling. 
 
 Monterey is a straggling Spanish town, built without any 
 regard to order, at the head of the bay. Back of it, on 
 three sides, the ground rises into hills, the slopes of which 
 are richly wooded with old oak trees. Under the Mexican 
 rule it was the capital of California and the residence of the 
 principal families, who were attracted hither, partly by its 
 delicious climate and partly by its being the headquarters 
 of the gayeties of the province. Under the American gov- 
 ernment it retained, for a short time, its importance. Here 
 in 1850 was held the first convention, which adopted the 
 State Constitution and took measures for obtaining admission 
 into the Union. Delegates thronged to it from all parts of 
 California. It was held under the authority of Gen. Eiley, 
 the Military Governor, and for a time Gen. Sutter, the pioneer 
 of California, presided over its deliberations. The staring 
 wooden taverns which were run up at this period are still 
 standing, some of them now closed and unoccupied. The 
 
MONTEREY. 167 
 
 capital was then removed to San Jose, and this destroyed 
 the political importance of Monterey. For a time it was 
 the headquarters of the army; but these too were removed — 
 to Benicia and San Francisco — withdrawing, in the officers 
 and their families, much of the agreeable American society 
 for which the town had been distinguished. Most of the 
 nfluential California families moved away, out of disgust for 
 the intruders who had taken the power from their hand. 
 Some went to their ranches, stretching over leagues of coun- 
 try, where they could still practice sovereignty; and some 
 returned to Mexico. 
 
 Monterey is now as quiet a place as Zimmerman himself 
 could have desired in which to realize his dreams of soli- 
 tude. Business has departed, except the little trade neces- 
 sary for the daily wants of its population. You see no one 
 in the streets, but a few Spaniards and Indians, who seem to 
 have, as is really the case, nothing to do. There are scarcely 
 any vehicles; and all is quiet until some Oalifornian dashes 
 along at the usual head-long speed. The houses, scattered 
 without much regard to order, are mostly of adolte, with tiled 
 roofs, one story high. The centre is generally occupied by a 
 large hall, to which other apartments are in subordination, 
 as it is used for dancing, the great amusement of these peo- 
 ple. The dining and sleeping rooms open out of it, but 
 are mere appurtenances. In a population of over a thous- 
 and, there are not two hundred Americans. The Spanish 
 language iaof course generally spoken. 
 
 No sooner had we dropj^ed anchor than a shore boat 
 came off for passengers and landed us on the rocks at the 
 edge of the basin. I had come to Monterey, principally at 
 the request of Mrs. Boston's family, one of the American 
 
168 THE EARL Y DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 families longest in the place, the members of '^•liicli took a 
 great interest in the Church. One of them met us as we 
 landed, and in their hosjDitable home we spent the next week. 
 Their house was just below the town, overlooking the bay; 
 and from the windows of my room a scene spread out on 
 which I was never tired of gazing. There I spent the greater 
 part of the next two days, feeling still too weak to make 
 much exertion, and endeavoring to recruit strength for the 
 services of the approaching Sunday. Before me was the 
 peaceful bay, stretching round in a beautiful semi-circle — 
 no wharves — nothing to interrupt the silvery line of the sand 
 on which the spray broke and glittered. Some distance 
 from shore, imbedded in the sand and almost covered by 
 the water, lay the wrecks of two vessels which long years ago 
 must have grounded there and been dismantled. They 
 alone broke the glassy surface of the basin when no breeze 
 was sweeping over it. Besides these, two or three fishing 
 boats floated lazily near the beach. 
 
 Bayard Taylor, in his '* Letters from California," dwells 
 much upon the peculiar sound of the surf, as it rolls and 
 breaks upon this shore. I know not whether* it was mere 
 imagination, but it has often seemed to me, as I listened to 
 these sounds, that they had a quality all their own. Even 
 when the surface was unbroken, there was a constant swell 
 wliich lined the borders of the bay, far as the eye could 
 reach, with a brief display of silver foam; and every mo- 
 ment it broke upon the shore with solemn regularity, as if 
 the ceaseless pulsations of the mighty Pacific. This seemed 
 to me more impressive, thus rolling up the bay with a long, 
 dirge-like moan, than the wilder dashings of the waves upon 
 Point Lobos; and doubly so at night, when I have lain 
 
MONTEREY, 169 
 
 awake hour after hour, the silence broken only by these 
 monotonous beatings. 
 
 It seemed, too, as if the town was as quiet as the bay. 
 No sound came up from it. The bustle of Yankee energy 
 seemed not yet to have broken in upon its primitive repose. 
 Except some children playing about, the cattle lazily feed- 
 ing, or an occasional foot-passenger, — generally a Spanish 
 woman with the rebozo over her head, — we saw no signs of 
 vitality. In its utter want of all life and energy, and in its 
 foreign aspect, it reminded us, more than any other place 
 we have seen on this continent, of some of those quiet towns 
 in the South of Europe, which had not yet been reached by 
 the progress of modern innovation. 
 
 The most exciting scene that passed before the window 
 during my stay was the capture of one of the wild California 
 cattle by a Spaniard on horseback who had attempted to 
 drive it forward without success. The animal seemed ob- 
 stinately bent on going in a direction contrary to his 
 wishes, when, with the utmost rapidity, he threw his long 
 lariat with the slip knot at the end. By some sleight of hand 
 which I could not understand, it struck the fore-leg, and en- 
 circled it at once, the horse planted himself firmly on the 
 ground to enable him to sustain the shockj and in an in- 
 stant the animal was lying helpless on its back. This was 
 repeated several times, and always with the same unerring 
 precision. It is their usual way of capturing cattle on the 
 wide plains or hill-sides. The animals are suffered to run 
 wild until wanted; when the vaqiiero rides up to the herd, 
 selects the one he wishes, and while the terrified animal is 
 thundering along at full sj)eed, by a whirl of the hand 
 which is hardly perceptible, the lariat strikes his foot, and 
 
170 "^HE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 he is thrown down with a shock that for a few moments dis- 
 ables him. Before he recovers, he is tied, so as to be completely 
 hampered. The horses are sometimes so well trained, (as 
 I have seen in Southern California,) as to stand perfectly 
 still after a bullock has been lassoed and the rider has dis- 
 mounted to bind him. He seems to watch the motions of 
 the animal, and when he moves, draws back and tightens 
 the lasso tied to his saddle-bow, as if guided by reason. 
 Two of the native Calif ornians will sometimes capture the 
 fierce grizzly bear even, in this way, with lariats round his 
 fore and hind legs drawing him different ways until he can 
 be secured. Beginning with this exercise in childhood, as 
 soon as they can sit a horse, they attain a perfection which 
 would be inconceivable to one who had not witnessed it. 
 
 The only walk on which I ventured during these two 
 days, (and this sent me exhausted to bed, before dark,) 
 was to the Fort which is not far from Mrs. Boston's house. 
 It is on high ground overlooking the bay. The breast-work 
 which has been thrown up, surmounted by several large 
 cannon, surrounds the space devoted to barracks, arsenal 
 and parade ground. There was once a large garrison sta- 
 tioned here 5 but although the United States' flag still 
 floats gaily over it, its glory has departed, and a single 
 officer, (in charge of the military stores remaining in the de- 
 pot,) and a sergeant, are the only occupants of the barracks. 
 
 The climate is perfectly delicious. I was delighted 
 with its balminess the day I landed, and every day of my 
 stay increased my appreciation of it. The temperature 
 seems to be equable, differing but a few degrees throughout 
 the whole year. During this, which is the dry season, no rain 
 ever falls 3 but early in the morning and in the evening, a 
 
MONTEREY. I7I 
 
 fog prevails for a few hoars; while through the middle of 
 the day the soft breeze which comes in from the sea tem- 
 pers the heat so that it is never oppressive. Nowhere else 
 have I breathed an atmos^Dliere so favorable to invalids. 
 In my own case I found its influence beneficial beyond my 
 expectations. The two days which passed before Sunday 
 seemed to have the effect of so far restoring my strength, 
 that when the time came, I felt able to go through the 
 varied duties of the day with as little exhaustion as if they 
 had been preceded by no illness. 
 
 The service of cur Church had never been held in Mon- 
 terey. Some years ago, on the first occupancy of the town 
 by the Americans, the Kev. Calvin Colton, Chaplain in the 
 U. S. Navy, a Congregational minister, was stationed here. 
 He was appointed Alcalde, and while here erected a stone 
 building for a Town Hall, which is now called ' ' Colton Hall," 
 and is one of the most substantial public buildings in Cali- 
 fornia. He also published " Three Years in California," a 
 diary of life in Monterey which gives a good picture of the 
 society and life in this country. Subsequently, another 
 Presbyterian minister, Mr. Willy, resided here for a short 
 time as Chaplain to the garrison, but for some years there 
 have been no Protestant services of any kind. The old 
 Romish Church is the only place of public worship. On 
 Saturday we heard the bells ringing violently, and were 
 told it was to notify the inhabitants that the next day was 
 Sunday. Perhaps this is necessary in the perfect tranquil- 
 lity of Monterey, where they "take no note of time," where 
 nothing disturbs the quiet of the da}^ but the moaning of 
 the wind through the pine trees and the breaking of the 
 waves upon the beach. 
 
172 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 On Sunday morning the sound of these bells came float, 
 ing over to us in the perfect stillness. The Church is on 
 the opposite side of the town, standing where the ground 
 begins to rise into the hills, and from my window I can see 
 group after group winding their way up to its doors. For 
 our service we had the Court Koom in Colton Hall, the 
 room in which the convention which adopted the first Con- 
 stitution of this State, held its meetings. The Congrega- 
 tion numbered about sixty, and at the Holy Communion 
 four came forward, some of whom had not for a long time 
 enjoyed this privilege. *' Your sermon," said a gentleman 
 to me, after service, "is the first I have heard for four 
 years." In the afternoon the attendance was much larger, 
 as many of the Spanish ladies came in to witness the ser- 
 vices, though unacquainted with the language. After the 
 second lesson, I baptized five children; and having given, in 
 place of the sermon, an extemporaneous address explana- 
 tory of Confirmation, I conferred that rite on one lady who 
 that morning received the Communion for the first time. 
 In the early part of the week I visited many of the Ameri- 
 cans, particularly those who had brought their children for 
 baptism. They all expressed themselves anxious to have 
 the services of the Church; but they are too few in number 
 to take any steps towards this, nor is there any reason to 
 suppose that Monterey will increase or strengthen its Ameri- 
 can population. In fact, since my visit it has diminished; 
 and the removal of Mrs. Boston's family has taken away the 
 only one of any influence. Twelve miles distant, on Salinas 
 Plains, I am told an agricultural population is settling, but 
 of course it is scattered at the ranches. 
 
 As the steamer was not to return from San Diego till 
 
MONTEREY. 173 
 
 Thursday, we had several days to spare, on one of which we 
 drove out to Point Lobos. It is doubtful whether in quiet 
 Monterey we would have been able to procure a vehicle; 
 but an officer of the coast survey whose station is here, 
 kindly placed his horses, wagon, and steward at my service 
 during my stay. The vehicle was capable of carrying an 
 indefinite number, and on a pleasant morning, w^hen there 
 was just fog enough to keep the heat of the sun from being 
 felt, a party was formed to visit Point Lobos. The wagon 
 was filled, while some of the gentlemen went on horseback. 
 
 As soon as we left the town, we found ourselves in the 
 old oak woods. Then, there would be a space destitute of 
 trees — then we would drive through the forest by a road 
 on which the grass was growing, while the branches on 
 each side swept against us as we passed. There was every 
 variety of scenery, as we went over hills bare of trees, and 
 through valleys into whose tangled foliage the sun could not 
 penetrate. These woods are filled witli game; often griz- 
 zlies are met there, but we saw nothing excei)t innumerable 
 squirrels, and a solitary prairie wolf (coyote) which crossed 
 our path. We forded the Carmel River, at this season a 
 shallow stream, but in the rainy season filled to the banks 
 with an impassable flood. During the drive of seven miles, 
 we passed but one house, the owner of which had cleared 
 extensively around him for a farm. At last we approached 
 the seaside, and after driving through woods where there 
 seemed to be no road, we emerged a few hundred yards 
 from the beach, in an open space dotted with scattered 
 trees. 
 
 The scenery around is of the wildest character. It seems 
 as if some mighty convulsion had rent the rocks asunder, 
 
174 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 and thrown them about in the greatest confusion. Huge 
 masses, weighing tons, were placed with the strata at right 
 angles to other masses, as if a giant had tossed them in his 
 sport. Deep fissures and ravines passed through them, up 
 which the waters of the ocean dashed and roared, as the 
 waves swept against their openings. One of these fissures 
 extended two hundred yards, in some places narrow, and 
 then at the extremity opening out a wide chamber into 
 which the water rushed at every swell of the tide, until it 
 broke against the end with a sound like thunder, filHng the 
 cavity with spray like the steam of a boiling cauldron. 
 
 The rocks here are covered with shells, some very beauti- 
 ful, and also with the greatest variety of sea-weeds that I 
 have ever seen. Among them is the mucilaginous plant 
 which is so much used by the Chinese for soup. It is here 
 collected in great quantities, and has become an important 
 object of export. 
 
 There is, however, another natural production at this 
 place which excites much more attention. Long before we 
 reached the margin of the sea we heard an indistinct roar 
 and bellowing which seemed something different from the 
 booming sound of the waves. It proceeded from the sea 
 lions with which this is a favorite resort. A few hundred 
 yards from the shore is a ledge of rocks, forming an island, 
 on which they crawl up to bask in the sun. There, hundreds 
 of them, of every size, can be seen at once, and their roaring 
 is heard above the sound of the weaves. They are huge, 
 unwieldy masrses, sometimes eighteen feet in length, appear- 
 ing like great lizards as they crawl up on the rocks or slide 
 back again into the water. Sometimes, a monster who 
 seemed the patriarch, would raise himself up and bellow, 
 
MONTEREY. 175 
 
 when the whole herd would unite, till it seemed as if the 
 " bulls of Basan" had been let loose. They are sometimes 
 shot from the rocks on the shore, though, as they are so fully 
 covered with a coating of fat, it is rarely that the ball pene- 
 trates to a vital part. The inhtibitants, when they can cap- 
 ture them, obtain considerable oil from the carcass. 
 
 We returned for about four miles by the same road over 
 the Carmel Eiver, and then turned aside to visit the old Mis- 
 sion of Carmel. To find it, however, seemed no easy work; 
 as the road had been so long disused that it was overgrown 
 with grass, and difficult to distinguish from other paths in 
 the woods. We tried several, where the branches al- 
 most met from the sides and swept over us as we passed, 
 but they ended in the dense forest and we were obliged 
 with difficulty to turn and regain the main road. We at 
 last found the right one, and after driving for two miles 
 emerged into the cleared fields which surround the old Mis- 
 sion Church. The situation is beautiful (as are always the 
 Bites of the old missions), surrounded by the hills, and with 
 a distant view of the ocean. The church still stands unal- 
 tered in its front, having on one side of it the range of offices 
 unchanged. On the other side, the huts which once formed 
 the habitations of the Indian converts have entirely disap- 
 peared, as have the other outbuildings, and corrals in which 
 the old fathers once herded their thousands of cattle. 
 
 We drove into the quadrangle, about four hundred feet 
 square, formed by the deserted offices of the Mission. They 
 are built of adobes and are now rapidly falling to decay. A 
 gentleman who visited the church a few weeks before, found 
 it entirely open, the doors swinging loosely on their hinges, 
 and all the old relics of former worship left as they were 
 
176 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 years ago. After the Mission was cecularized in 1835, there 
 Beemed to be no one to take charge of the building and no 
 definite owner for the property. The priests had departed, 
 trusting that a feehng of reverence would prevent any from 
 molesting its contents. This was effectual enough with the 
 old Californians, but probably had no weight with the Amer- 
 icans who wandered that way; so that articles once devoted 
 to sacred uses were carried off, and lately it was found nec- 
 essary to lock up the building. 
 
 At this time it was open, as the Padre from Monterey was 
 here, removing some of the ornaments and furniture to his 
 church. The church itself is lofty, with a Gothic arch, and 
 some parts of the ornamental stone work are carved with 
 considerable skill. It is nearly two hundred feet in length, 
 BO that there is something stately in its appearance as you 
 stand at the lower end and look up. The wall of the chancel 
 has been elaborately gilded and painted, but the colors are 
 now fast fading away, from exposure to the air and weather. 
 The whole building is of stone, except the chancel end, 
 which is unfortunately of adobes. The roof over the end 
 where the altar once stood has fallen in, and a few more 
 rainy seasons will finish the dilapidation of the building. 
 At the left hand is a small chapel for the Baptistery, where 
 the large font, carved from a species of yellow stone, with 
 a heavy wooden cover, stood as it did the day the last child 
 received from it the waters of baptism. Next to it is a 
 pretty little chapel which was used for the daily Mass and 
 Vespers. The altar is still there, with a picture of angels 
 over it, some of the heads of which are very well executed. 
 On the altar was the printed Gospel with prayers, framed 
 and glazed. It seemed as though the officiating priest had 
 
MONTEREY. I77 
 
 left it there but yesterday. On the walls were painted the 
 TeDeum, Gloria in Excelsis, and other anthems, with the mu- 
 sical notes, so that the whole congregation might sing them 
 correctly. 
 
 In the sacristy — a large room on the other side of the 
 church — we saw the old paintings and images. I turned 
 over the former, but found most of them to be daubs, por- 
 traits of saints and martyrs. Among them was one of a 
 Padre landing on the coast, with a violin in his hand. In 
 the background are seen the Indians, whom tradition asserts 
 he attracted by the music of his instrument before beginning 
 his sermon. The images are about four feet high, of wood, 
 well carved, some with gilded mitres on their heads, and 
 one, (whose name I could not learn), representing an African, 
 perfectly black, with woolly head. 
 
 A wax figure as large as life, representing the dead 
 Christ, had been left lying in the nave of the church. 
 It was uninjured, except that some of the panes of 
 the glass case which covered it were broken. The Padre 
 had now brought out some Indians to carry it to Mon- 
 terey to ornament his own church. They were placing 
 poles under it, to carry it as on a bier. On our way home 
 we passed it, and as we approached Monterey we met 
 groups of sefioras, who had gone out to receive it. A 
 few hours afterwards, the bells of the Church rang out a 
 loud peal, and we heard there had been quite a service 
 for its reception. 
 
 This was the Padre's first visit to the place, and he there 
 fore knew little about it. He was a Mexican, speaking only 
 Spanish. In front of the altar many of the priests had been 
 buried, and he removed the slab from a tomb in the pave 
 
178 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 ment to show us the coffin below in a narrow cell of 
 masonry. Several of the tombs were lately opened by di- 
 rection of the Archbishop of San Francisco, to find the re- 
 mains of Padre Juuipero Serra, the founder of this church 
 and one of the earliest Missionaries in California. In this, 
 however, they were unsuccessful. 
 
 In the tower still hang the three old Spanish bells, one 
 of which is yet perfect, but the other two have been broken 
 and are now useless. Thirty years ago, their sound, as it 
 swept over these hills, called hundreds of Indians to daily 
 prayers. 
 
 After leaving the church, we walked over to an extensive 
 pear orchard, planted by the Padres, the fruit of which 
 some Californians were employed in gathering. A small 
 house had been built in the orchard, where lived an Amer- 
 ican, who, having married a Mexican wife, had settled down 
 here, usurping the grounds of the Mission. As we were 
 looking over the gate, his wife came out and welcomed us 
 in with the grace which seems peculiar to these Spanish 
 women. She was exceedingly handsome, and from her ap- 
 pearance I supposed her to be a young girl. She had, 
 however, been for some years a wife, and was the mother of 
 three children. She conducted us into her house, a single 
 room, with a little partition to conceal the bed, and an 
 earthen floor; but where she presided with a dignity not 
 often seen in aristocratic saloons. It is a trait, however, 
 we have often remarked in the native women. 
 
 Our road home led for some way through the deserted 
 clearings of the old fathers, by their ruined corrals, and 
 then through the thick chaparral where the birds alone 
 broke the silence of these solitudes, until we emerged in 
 
MONTEREY. I79 
 
 the groves of old oak trees which overlooked the town. 
 Interspersed among them occasionally, are lofty pines, from 
 which hangs the long gray moss waving mournfully as the 
 sea breeze sweeps by it. Thus all the hills about Monterey 
 are thickly wooded, while among them wind little ravines 
 or cafiadas, into which the sun's rays seem scarcely able to 
 penetrate. Thick vines stretch up among the trees, while 
 the laurel groves grow rankly and luxuriantly below; so that 
 it seems a twilight around, nor is any light seen, except 
 when you look up, directly over your head, to the calm blue 
 heavens above. 
 
 Beneath, Monterey was spread out, covering a gentle 
 slope of land for three quarters of a mile. Two miles below 
 was seen Point Pinos at the southern extremity of the har- 
 bor, from which the bay curved round to Afio Nuevo, its 
 northern side, twenty miles distant. Behind, the country 
 rose in ridges to the Toro Mountains, while through the 
 clear air without a cloud, could be seen far off on the north- 
 ern horizon, the mountains of Santa Cruz and the Sierra 
 de Gavilan, beyond the Salinas plains where the virgin soil 
 is already broken by the enterprise of American immi- 
 grants. 
 
 The next morning we took another drive, to Point Pinos 
 below the tov/n. The road is through the pine forest, often 
 scarcely to be traced in the open glades, and then through 
 dense chaparral which still furnishes a lurking place for the 
 grizzly bear. The point projects out into the ocean, with 
 irregular masses of sand-stone, which, like those at Point 
 Lobos, seem to be thrown into every fantastic form. 
 Among these the waves dash up, while the foam and swell 
 roll over them, and break upon the shore with a shock which 
 
180 '^^^ EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 seems to make the earth tremble. In the coves we found 
 the rocks covered with shells; the avelone with its many 
 hues and fine coating of mother-of-pearl, and the star-fish of 
 orange and scarlet; myriads of muscles and snails; and sea- 
 weeds of every brilliant color. 
 
 A short distance from the shore is a substantial stone 
 lighthouse, which only waits for the lantern to be for- 
 warded from San Francisco, to commence its duties. It is 
 much needed at this place, for although the bay is more 
 than twenty miles wide at the entrance, owing to the fogs 
 at night, vessels frequently go ashore. 
 
 Every morning at nine, the sound of the bells is borne to 
 us, across the little plain, from the church which is situated 
 on the rise of the hills beyond, and one morning we walked 
 over to it. It is of stone and a good-sized building, very 
 much resembling the church at the Carmel Mission, but not 
 kept in good repair. For some reason, — perhaps to save 
 trouble — the windows on one side have been entirely closed 
 with adobes. In front of it, on the ground, was lying one 
 of its bells, hopelessly cracked. A group of Indian children 
 were playing about, and as we came up, one of them crawled 
 out of the bell where he had been hiding from his compan- 
 ions. The other two bells were still hanging in the tower. 
 On one side against the walls is a tomb enclosing the re- 
 mains of one of the priests, but without any inscription. 
 
 The interior of the church is like that of most chapels 
 I have seen in this country. There was nothing remarkable 
 except a curious picture of Heaven and Hell, one of those 
 poor paintings so often seen in the Romish churches which 
 attempt to bring down the future state to the most sensual 
 minds. Heaven is represented by a pyramid on which are 
 
MONTEREY. 181 
 
 some melanclioly looking beings, who seem to be not at a 
 enjoying themselves, while in Hell are depicted devils tor- 
 menting their unhappy victims with pitchforks. 
 
 We crossed a little lagoon that flows up from the harbor 
 and walked up for a mile to a beautiful headland which pro- 
 jects out on the opposite side of the bay. I had often 
 looked at it from my window, and been attracted by its pic- 
 turesque appearance, covered, as it was, with old oaks. We 
 found it as peaceful and quiet as it seemed in 'the distance; 
 and that most appropriately it had been selected as the 
 Romish burying ground. The low wall which surrounded 
 it had been concealed from us by the trees which threw 
 their shade over every part of it. There were no monu- 
 ments, generally only wooden head-boards and graves to 
 mark the place where the former inhabitants of the little 
 town were quietly sleeping. Outside the wall, under the 
 shadow of a noble tree whose branches entirely cover it, is 
 an enclosure Burrounding the marble altar-shaped tomb 
 of the wife of Lieut. Sully, U. S. A. She was a mem- 
 ber of one of the old California families residing at 
 Monterey and died at the early age of seventeen. A more 
 peaceful spot could not be found. Nothing breaks the still- 
 ness but the notes of the birds, or the sound of the "old un- 
 changing ocean." 
 
 A delightful degree of good feeling is evinced to- 
 wards Americans by the highest class of California families 
 residing in Monterey. Some of them are the old landed 
 families who occupied an influential position under the 
 Spanish and Mexican governments. Others are refugees 
 from Lower California. One of them was Governor of Lower 
 California, but espoused the American cause during the war 
 
182 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 with Mexico, under the supposition that on the return of 
 peace the United States would insist on the cession of that 
 country also. As this was not done, he was obliged to exile 
 himself and take refuge under our flag. Californians have 
 been so abused and cheated by the Americans, that we won- 
 der they can be polite to any. Yet they are most remarka- 
 bly courteous towards those entitled to their respect. There 
 is a degree of cordiality and warm-heartedness in their man- 
 ner which I have never found exceeded. The ladies still re- 
 tain the old Spanish costume, with the rebozo thrown over 
 their heads when they leave the house. They have gener- 
 ally had few advantages of education, yet some, from associat- 
 ing with Americans, have become sensible of their deficien- 
 cies and are endeavoring to remedy them. Some of them 
 have married Americans or English who came here many 
 years ago, even before the cession of the country. I was at 
 the home of Cxie Scotch gentleman who had married a Cal- 
 ifornia wife and resided in the country for thirty years. 
 The ladies, we were told, generally prefer Americans for 
 husbands. They see the difference in energy and enterprise 
 between them and the old Californians, and in the lower 
 part of the State, when one marries a peculiarly good Cali- 
 fornian, the congratulation given her with regard to her in- 
 tended is, — " He is as good as a Yankee." 
 
 We do not wonder at this, for most of the male portion of 
 the Californians do not seem to have the good qualities pos- 
 sessed by the women. They retain much of the old Sj^anish 
 character, with the evils of the Mexican disposition engrafted 
 on it. They are generally idle and without energy, caring 
 for nothing but horses and doing nothing which cannot be 
 done on horseback. Bull fights, bear fights, and particular- 
 
MONTEREY. 183 
 
 ly gambling form their amusements. For the last their 
 passion is intense and they will pass entire days and nights 
 at monte, as long as they have anything to lose. Neither do 
 they share in the admiration of the other sex for the Ameri- 
 cans. They feel that they have been driven by them from 
 their seats of influence, will scarcely ever learn the English 
 language, and generally there is but little association be- 
 tween the young men of the two races. 
 
 The size of the California families would astonish our 
 countrymen at the East. I became acquainted with some 
 members of one family in which there were twenty-two 
 children by e ame father and mother. In another there 
 were eighteen, while the ordinary number would be more 
 than twelve. 
 
 On the last morning of our stay in Monterey, we drove 
 into the country, about five miles, to the ranch of Don Jose. 
 He and his wife accompanied us on horseback. The Donna 
 rode well, as most of the California women do, many of 
 them being even skillful in throwing the lariat. Their style 
 of riding appears awkward to an American, as they sit on the 
 right side of the horse, though this is really the more natu- 
 ral way. The left hand is thus used for holding the reins, 
 while the right arm is free. Our road lay directly through 
 one of the ravines which run up among the hills back of 
 the town, through the unbroken forest, except in one place 
 where the old trees were lying prostrate on the hillside, cut 
 down by some enterprising American who intends to set 
 out a vineyard on that spot. The farther we advanced into 
 the country removed from the influence of the sea breeze, 
 the warmer it became; but there is a freshness about this soft 
 vaporous atmosphere which keeps it from being oppressive. 
 
184 THE EARLY DAYS- OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 Don Jose's ranch stretches over several miles. The house 
 is in a hollow among the hills, with some living springs be- 
 hind it, which are sufficient, in the dry season, to irrigate the 
 gardens. The servants were Indians, among whom we saw 
 a woman ninety-six of age, born before the first coming of 
 the whites or even of the earliest Franciscan Missionaries. 
 Her hair was long and gray, and her face deeply wrinkled, 
 but she seemed to have as much elasticity and strength 
 as most persons at sixty. She can carry — Don Jose told 
 me — a burden of a hundred pounds. These Indians are 
 slaves. Frequently, when in the country, finding young In- 
 dians about the house, I have asked the proprietor where 
 he got them, and received for answer,—" I gave five dollars 
 apiece for them " — or, " My friend Mr. P. purchased them of 
 some of the tribe and presented them to me." 
 
 On our return we stopped at Don Jose's house in town to 
 lunch, where we were most hospitably entertained. His 
 daughter played some pieces on the piano for us, with great 
 taste and skill. As American habits creep in, this instru- 
 ment is, in many California houses, taking the place of the 
 guitar, whose music they inherited from their Spanish an- 
 cestors. 
 
 While we were at dinner on Thursday, we heard a gun — 
 the notice that the Sea Bird had again arrived. During 
 the afternoon she took on board her freight, and at about 
 six o'clock, after saying good-bye to our kind friends, we 
 were rowed over to her. Another hour and we were out 
 of the harbor and in the swell of the ocean, which soon sent 
 most of the passengers to their staterooms. After rather a 
 rough night, we found ourselves, at breakfast time, once 
 more entering the Golden Gate, and by nine o'clock were 
 
MONTEREY. 185 
 
 again alongside the wharf at San Francisco. I had set out 
 to keep this appointment at Monterey with strong misgiv- 
 ings as to the prudence of the attempt, weak as I then was, 
 but, thanks to a kind Providence, I had not only performed 
 the duties I wished to, but returned perfectly restored in 
 health. 
 
XIX. 
 
 THE SPECIAL CONVENTION 
 
 There is a grave defect in our present canon on Missionary 
 Bishops. When six presbyters have been one year in a 
 Missionary Jurisdiction as parish priests, they may organ- 
 ize a Diocese and elect their own Bishop. They may choose 
 the Missionary Bishop who has been over them or not, as 
 they please. If, through prejudice or intrigue, his own clergy 
 decline to retain him as their permanent Bishop, they place 
 him before the Church as unfit for the office in which he has 
 been tried. Professionally, therefore, he is ruined. 
 
 Almost invariably, too, a frontier Diocese is one to which 
 unruly and unworthy clergymen have resorted, as most re- 
 moved from the reach of Episcopal authority. Over these 
 he must exercise discipline; yet as soon as he attempts it, he 
 arrays them against him and they at once look forward to 
 the approaching election as the opportunity for retaliation. 
 As six clergy are sufficient to elect, it places the matter in 
 the hands of a very small clique. Four men combining 
 against their Missionary Bishop can drive him from the Dio- 
 cese. 
 
 Our venerable pioneer, Bishop Kemper, the first Mission- 
 186 
 
THE SPECIAL CONVENTION. 187 
 
 ary Bishop appointed, had this experience. After the 
 whole North-west had gradually been formed into dio- 
 ceses, and Indiana, Missouri, and Iowa, cut off from his 
 jurisdiction by electing Bishops of their own, he was 
 narrowed down to Minnesota and Wisconsin. In the lat- 
 ter State his residence had always been fixed. Here, there- 
 fore, a party intrigued to elect a diocesan Bishop of another 
 shade of Churchmanship. Clergymen were sent in to it from 
 the East, and every stej) taken to ensure a majority. The 
 friends of Bishop Kemper discovered the plots, and at the 
 next Convention elected him Bishop, insisting upon his ac- 
 ceptance. It was after my coming to California that I re- 
 ceived a letter from him mentioning these facts, and stat- 
 ing that to preserve the peace of the Diocese, in fact to 
 prevent himself from being driven out of it, he was obliged 
 to accept the office of Diocesan of Wisconsin. 
 
 From his letter, dated "Lake Superior, Aug. 10th, 1855," 
 I make some extracts : " They collected many hundreds to 
 induce men to come to my Mission to accomplish their ob- 
 ject. I can however rejoice, even in advancing old age, 
 that the Lord reigneth and that no weapon formed against 
 this Church or the purity thereof shall prosper. . . 
 My all but determination never to retire from the Mission- 
 ary field was really altered by these intrigues. The efforts 
 were begun in Wisconsin, and the candidate even named 
 for its Episcopate. Then, at the solicitation of the clergy, 
 I consented to accept." 
 
 Four or five years have now passed, and when I look back 
 upon these schemes, (of which I heard at this time from 
 other sources), so disgraceful and unchristian, I realize how 
 time has rectified all these evils. Even the " candidate for 
 
188 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 the Episcopate " who suffered himself to be involved in this 
 matter has now been for two years in his grave. What 
 would he have gained had he succeeded ? 
 
 To remedy this, the canon should be amended to provide 
 that when a Missionary Jurisdiction attains sufficient strength 
 to organize as a Diocese, the Missionary Bishop may con- 
 tinue in charge as Diocesan if he so elect, as now the As- 
 sistant Bishop succeeds the Bishop of a Diocese. This would 
 place a Missionary Bishop in an independent position, and 
 by freeing him from the influence of intriguing clergy and 
 future elections, would enable him to enforce the proper 
 authority of his office. Such an amendment was passed 
 by the House of Bishops in the General Convention of 1853, 
 but was thrown out by the Lower House in their jealousy 
 of the authority of the Bishops. 
 
 My own experience was very much the same as Bishop 
 Kemper's. Before I had been two years in the Diocese, I 
 found myself surrounded by a network of plots. Any lit- 
 tle disaffection arising in consequence of my official acts, 
 which if left to itself would soon have died away, was seized 
 on and fostered to give it strength. In two instances where 
 clergy had difficulties with their vestries, and where justice 
 compelled me to decide unfavorably to them, their influence 
 was at once enlisted against me. 
 
 When Convention met in 1856, these schemes, although 
 they exerted no influence, had gone so far that as soon as 
 the session was over, I felt it necessary to crush them out. 
 One of the clergy eugaged in them was presented for trial 
 for falsehood and slander, and was suspended from the min- 
 istry. The testimony at the trial, placed in my hands full 
 proof of the conspiracy and forever ended it. Some months 
 
THE SPECIAL CONVENTION. 189 
 
 afterwards, I removed his sentence, and he returned to the 
 East. The other two who were involved with him, left the 
 Diocese, and from that time all was peace. 
 
 The clergy took precisely the same course which had 
 been adopted by their brethren in Wisconsin. They de- 
 termined to elect me Diocesan Bishop at once, and thus re- 
 move all occasion of scheming. As I expected to return to 
 the East in April, and could not therefore be at the annual 
 Diocesan Convention which met in May following, it was 
 resolved that I should be asked to call a Special Convention 
 to meet before my departure. I accordingly received the 
 following request: — 
 
 To the Right Rev. Wm. Ingeaham Kip, D.D., 
 
 Missionary Bishop of California: 
 
 Right Reveeend and Dear Sir: — The undersigned. Pres- 
 byters and Lay Members of the Church in California, re- 
 spectfully request of you to call a Special Convention of the 
 Diocese of California, at as early a date as may be con- 
 venient for you to preside in the same. 
 
 San Frncisco, Nov. 5th, 1856. 
 
 CLERGY. 
 
 Rev. James W. Capen, Rev. Frederick W Hatch, D.D. 
 Rev. Edmund D. Cooper, Rev. William H. Hill, 
 
 Rev. Orange Clark, D.D., Rev. David F. Macdonald, 
 
 Rev. Elijah W. Hager, Rev. J. Avery Shepherd, 
 
 Rev. John L. Ver Mehr, LL. D. 
 
 PARISHES. 
 
 Christ Churchy Auburn. — R. D. Hopkins, John Russell- 
 
190 THE EARL V DA YS OF MV EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 Emmanuel Church, Coloma.— George Seaiie, P. B. Fox, 
 H. W. Miller. 
 
 Emmanuel Church, Grass Valley.— Melville Atwood, G. A. 
 Montgomery, St. George Scarlett, C. J. Lansing, James 
 Walsh. 
 
 Grace Church, Sacramento.— J. ¥. Montgomery, M.D., C. 
 Theo. Hopkins, Jos. AV. Winans, P. B. Cornwall, C. I. 
 Hutchinson, F. W. Hatch, Jr., L. F. Keed, Jas. L. English, 
 J. B. Harmon, Samuel Youngs, Jno. S. Bein. 
 
 Grace Church, San Francisco. — David S. Turner, J. D. 
 Farwell, StejDhen Smith, E. J. Vandewater, Wm. Blanding, 
 Kenneth McLea. 
 
 Church of the Sacraments, Sacramento. — Henry Hare Hartley, 
 Charles D. Judah, Thos. M. Logan, M. D. 
 
 St, John^s Church, OaTdand. — John F. Schander, Andrew 
 Williams, Kob't Worthington, E. A. Suwerkrop. 
 
 St. John's Church, Stockton. — E. K. Eastman, B. Walker 
 Bours, John Ferris, E. Manning, Allen Lee Bours, Lewis 
 M. L. Hickman. 
 
 St. John's Church, Marysville. — W. Wilson Smith, W. P. 
 Thompson, John W. Eeins. 
 
 St. Paul's Church, Benicia. — Paul K. Hubbs, Joseph Tuttle, 
 John Currey, Eugene Van Ness, U. S. A., T. Jefferson Cram, 
 U. S. A. 
 
 Trinity Church, Nevada. — Chas. W. Mulford, Thos. H. 
 Caswell, J. H. Gager. 
 
 Trinity Church, Folsom. — A. C. Donaldson, James S. Mere- 
 dith. 
 
 From a feeling of delicacy, I hesitated some time before I 
 complied with this petition, well knowing that their object 
 
THE SPECIAL CONVENTION. \^\ 
 
 was my own election. I received, however, so many private 
 requests from^the laity of the Diocese, who took the ground, 
 that the wish was so nearly unanimous that I had no right 
 to refuse it, that finally, December 5th, I called the Conven- 
 tion to meet February 5th, 1857. 
 
 It accordingly met in Grace Church, Sacramento. The 
 sermon at the opening of the Convention was preached by 
 the Rev. Dr. Hatch, the oldest clergyman in the Diocese. 
 After the preliminary exercises, I made the following 
 address: — 
 
 " My Brethren of the Clergy and Laity: 
 
 "For the first time since the organization of the Church 
 in this Diocese, you have been called to assemble as a 
 Special Convention. So widely are our parishes separated 
 that I realize what great personal sacrifice both clergy and 
 laity make to gather at any one place in this diocese, espe- 
 cially at this season when facilities for travel are diminished. 
 I would not, therefore, without some urgent reason, issue 
 any summons which should call you together. 
 
 " In the present case, however, I am relieved of all re- 
 sponsibility. In the end of November, I received a request 
 *to call a Special Convention of the Diocese of California 
 at as early a date as might be convenient for me to preside 
 in the same.' A copy of this paper will be handed to the 
 Secretary to be published in the Convention report. This 
 request was signed by every clergyman now in the Diocese 
 having a seat in Convention,* and by members of the ves- 
 try of every Parish (with one exception), in union with 
 
 * Of the only clergymen in any way connected with the Diocese 
 whose names were not signed, one was absent in the Atlantic States, 
 and the other suspended. 
 
192 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 the Convention. Members of the vestries of two other 
 Parishes, which had been organized since the last Annual 
 Convention, and which have just asked for admission into 
 the Diocese, had also added their names.* In complying, 
 therefore, with this request, I felt that I was responding to 
 the almost unanimous voice of the Diocese. 
 
 " There was, in addition, my brethren, another considera- 
 tion of a personal nature to myself, which caused this re- 
 quest to harmonize with my own views and feelings. It 
 will not be in my power to be with you at the Annual Con- 
 vention of the Diocese in May next. An absence of now 
 more than three years from my former residence at the 
 East, renders it necessary that I should be there in the end 
 of May, to attend to some matters of private business. I 
 shall be obliged, therefore, to return to the Atlantic States 
 (Providence permitting), by the steamer of April 20th. I 
 am happy, therefore, to avail myself of this opportunity 
 to meet you once more united as a council of the 
 Church. 
 
 " Notices were issued on the 5th of December for the 
 Special Convention, and this day was chosen, thus affording 
 two months for the preparation and careful consideration 
 of any business which it may be judged expedient to bring 
 before you. 
 
 " And now, brethren, I commend you, in all your delib- 
 erations, to Him * who by His Holy Spirit did preside in 
 the councils of the blessed Apostles, and has promised, 
 through His Son Jesus Christ, to be with His Church to 
 the end of the world.' " 
 
 * Christ Church, Auburn, aud Trinity Church, Folsom. 
 
THE SPECIAL CONVENTION. 193 
 
 Calling the Kev. Dr. Clark to the chair, I then left the 
 Convention. After appointing a committee to bring in a 
 report on the power of the Diocese to elect and the expe- 
 diency of doing so, the Convention adjourned till even- 
 ing. 
 
 In the evening, the committee reported in the affirmative 
 on both points submitted to them, and it was determined at 
 once to proceed to the election. The choice was unanimous, 
 both with the^ clergy and laity, nine clergymen being 
 present and nine parishes represented. 
 
 I was at that time the guest of John B. Harmon, Esq. , 
 and at about nine o'clock in the evening, he drove up to his 
 house to say, that the election was over and the members 
 of the Convention desired that I should return to their 
 meeting. As I entered the church they all rose, and when 
 1 reached the chancel the election was announced to me by 
 the Eev. Dr. Clark. I then made them an address of which 
 this was the substance: — 
 
 ** Called, my brethren, by your request, to meet you 
 once more in this Convention, I am happy to avail 
 myself of the opportunity to thank you for the mark of con- 
 fidence you have given by the unanimous election which 
 your President has just announced to me. It is not the 
 mere absence of any dissenting voice which causes me to 
 regard it with so much satisfaction. It is the hearty feeling 
 which has characterized all your proceedings, and which, 
 since the first calling of this Convention, has been displayed 
 in the expressions volunteered to me, not by the clergy 
 only, but by the laity also, in every part of the Diocese. 
 You have now officially placed on record a declaration of 
 these feelings, and I regard the manner in which it has been 
 
194 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 done as a compensation for the labors and trials incident to 
 this office, during the last three j^ears. 
 
 " This endorsement of the course I have pursued is the 
 more valuable from the peculiar circumstances in which we 
 have been placed. I have no hesitation in saying, that the 
 difficulties which surround us in laying the foundation of 
 the Church in this portion of the Pacific coast, are without 
 a parallel in any other region of our country. We have a 
 population, earnest and intellectual, gathered from every 
 quarter of the world in the last few years, as yet strangers 
 to each other, and engaged in the hot and eager struggle 
 after gain. 
 
 "This is a land of intellect, yet of intellect devoted 
 to this world's purposes. It is a land of gold, yet but 
 little of the gold thereof is consecrated to the service of Him 
 whose are the treasures for which men dig and delve. Few, 
 too, will interest themselves in the great interests of the 
 country, for the majority have little intention of founding 
 here their permanent home. Yet to this population, so ex- 
 citable and fluctuating, we are to bring the gospel, and ours 
 is the task to endeavor to mould them into a united and 
 Christian people. 
 
 " But if these things render the work difficult to you w^ho 
 minister in holy things, the difficulties are doubly increased 
 which gather around him who is to act as your Bishop. He 
 is to be the arbiter in every dispute, and the reference for 
 every complaint; and if he cannot remove every evil, remedy 
 every disappointment, and obviate difficulties which are 
 often the result of the folly or the inefficiency of the suf- 
 ferers, he is denounced as not worthily discharging his high 
 duties. Unlike an old community, there is here no estab- 
 
THE SPECIAL CONVENTION. I95 
 
 lislied Churclimanship, or even settled religious tone, on 
 wliich he can fall back. 
 
 " The spirit of insubordination, too, which reigns around 
 us is liable even to infect the Church. There is a constant 
 need of discipline, and yet the very authority to enforce 
 that discipline must be vindicated against the unruly and 
 the evil. In such a state of things how difficult becomes 
 the duty (inculcated upon him in the consecration service,) 
 to * be so merciful, that he be not too remiss,' to ' so min- 
 ister discipline, that he forget not mercy ! ' 
 
 *' Under these circumstances, my brethren, more than 
 three years have passed. They have been the most impor- 
 tant years of this Diocese, when the foundation of the Church 
 has baen laid, and those principles have been settled, (some- 
 times not without contest,) which are to guide us in our 
 future course. And now, that your unanimous vote has 
 stamped the approval of the Diocese upon my administra- 
 tion in the past, I feel that it is a pledge for your support, 
 should we be fellow laborers in coming days. And what I 
 have been, you will always find me. The warfare in which 
 we are engaged is one of principle, and from that I cannot 
 swerve. Should opposition arise, I can only say to the 
 gainsayer — ' "With me it is a very small thing that I should 
 be judged of yon, or -of man's judgment; he that judgeth 
 me is the Lord. 
 
 " With regard to my acceptance, it is impossible for me 
 at present to give an answer. The decision of this question 
 depends upon considerations which cannot be settled here. 
 On my return to the East I shall be able to determine; and 
 should it be the will of Providence that we are again to be 
 fellow laborers in this land, I trust when the summer 
 
196 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 months have passed, we shall be found * with one mind 
 striving together for the faith of the Gospel.' " 
 
 During the summer, the election was confirmed by the 
 Bishops and Standing Committees of the different Dioceses, 
 and then the Church matters of California settled down into 
 a peace which to the present time has remained unbroken. 
 
XX. 
 
 BENICIA. 
 
 Benicia is about thirty miles from San Francisco. The 
 Stockton and Sacramento steamers, leaving this city every 
 afternoon at four o'clock, stop there at six o'clock; so that it 
 is of easy access from here. At the first settlement of the 
 country great efforts were made to constitute it the em- 
 porium of the Pacific, but San Francisco took the lead, 
 owing to its superior situation, and Benicia settled down 
 into an inconsiderable place. For a little while the Legisla- 
 ture met there, but the members found it too quiet and the 
 assembled wisdom of the State was transferred to Sacra- 
 mento. 
 
 Benicia is now a scattered town, with " magnificent dis- 
 tances " between the houses. About a mile distant, con- 
 nected with the town proper by straggling dwellings, is 
 another settlement which has gathered around the works 
 of the Pacific Steamship Company. A mile beyond this, 
 and behind the hills, is the United States' Reservation, 
 occupied as a military post. If the townspeople, the 
 steamer employees, and the army people could be gathered 
 into one place, they would together make quite a town. 
 
 197 
 
198 THE EARL V DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 As it is, they present materials for missionary work, and a 
 a strong reason for establishing a parish at that point. 
 
 On account of its easy accessibility^ Benicia has been 
 chosen as a site for several schools; as not only do steamers 
 stop there, but stages run from that point to the valleys 
 above. There is a large seminary for girls and another for 
 boys, while the Romanists have established the convent of 
 St. Catherine, the inmates of which devote themselves to 
 the education of their boarders. 
 
 Shortly after my arrival in California, this was made the 
 Army Headquarters, and General Wool and staff were re- 
 moved thither from San Francisco, very much to their dis- 
 satisfaction. By this order, both Churches in this city lost 
 some of their most efficient supporters, among whom were 
 Dr. Tripler, warden of Grace Church; and Major Edward 
 D. Townsend, Assistant Adjutant General, who belonged to 
 Trinity. These gentlemen, upon settling at Benicia, soon 
 made a move to have the services of the Church; and I ac- 
 cordingly licensed Major Townsend to act as lay reader. 
 
 My first visit to this place — and, I believe, the first occa- 
 sion on which service was performed by a clergyman of our 
 Church — was in the first year of my residence in the Dio- 
 cese, October 21st, 1854. I reached there at duskj and be- 
 ing met on the wharf by Dr. Tripler and Major Townsend, 
 I was driven out to their quarters, as I was to be their 
 guest. During the time they were stationed there — for the 
 next two years — this was always my home, and there are 
 few scenes in this land to which I look back with more 
 pleasure, than to my visits to their quarters. In long talks, 
 protracted far into the night, some of my most agreeable 
 hours were spent. 
 
BENICIA. 199 
 
 The next day, Sunday, we had service in the Court House. 
 A good congregation was present and after service and 
 sermon, I administered the Holy Communion to eight 
 persons. 
 
 Then a few months passed, during which I was unable to 
 repeat my visit. Major Townsend, however, was laboring 
 with all the earnestness of a most devoted parish priest, 
 seeking out children for Baptism and so preparing candidates 
 for Confirmation that I found my seeing them j)revious 
 to the rite was only a form. A large room, formerly used 
 as a Masonic Lodge, was hired, and converted into a pretty 
 chapel, with vestry room adjoining. The chancel was prop- 
 erly fitted with altar and other necessaries and the walls 
 were covered with oaked paper. In my Convention Ad- 
 dress, the following May, I make this mention of Major 
 Townsend's efforts: "Since my former visitation to this 
 place, a suitable room has been provided, and furnished in 
 a church-like manner. It will be remembered that no ser- 
 vices of the Church have been held here, except those of 
 the two Sundays I was able to spend in the place. Every- 
 thing else, — the Sunday services, the seeking children for 
 Baptism and preparation of candidates for Confirmation — 
 has been done by the lay reader. I cannot refrain, my 
 brethren of the laity, from calling your attention to this 
 little parish, thus organized and kept in existence by the 
 exertions of one of your own number, as an evidence of 
 how much can be effected by the laity when the lack of 
 clergy prevents their having the services of an ordained 
 minister." 
 
 On the 22nd of February, 1855, 1 made another visitation. 
 In the previous week the parish had been organized by the 
 
200 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 name of St. Paul's Church. I went up on Friday evening 
 and after spending Saturday with the major, in visiting the 
 different families, on Sunday I held service in their new 
 chapel. In the morning I preached, and administered the 
 Holy Communion to twelve persons. In the afternoon, I 
 again read service and preached, baptizing after the second 
 lesson one adult and eight infants, and after sermon con- 
 firming six persons. 
 
 In July I again visited them, and held service one Tues- 
 day evening, remaining for several days to visit the 
 families. On the following Friday, I went over to Valiejo 
 with the Major, and in the evening held the first service of 
 our Church in that place. It is about seven miles from 
 Benicia and separated by a narrow river from the Navy 
 Yard at Mare Island. The population of the place was then 
 about one thousand, many of whom are workmen employed 
 in the Navy Yard. A Methodist chapel had been erected 
 there, which was offered for our use, and notwithstanding 
 the notice of but a few hours before, there was a good at- 
 tendance, consisting of the officers and their families from 
 Mare Island and the people at Valiejo. I returned the 
 same evening to Benicia and the next day to San Francisco^ 
 
 During the following January, 1856, we lost the aid of 
 Major Townsend, as he was ordered to Washington. A 
 more devoted and valuable layman I have never known; 
 not only regularly discharging the Sunday duties of lay 
 reader, but also the weekly and daily duties of "seeking for 
 Christ's sheep that are dispersed abroad'* and inducing 
 them once more to place themselves within the hallowing 
 influence of the services of the Church. 
 
 Providentially, at the time of Major Townsend's depart- 
 
BENICIA. 201 
 
 ure, I was able to supply the church by sending as Mis- 
 sionary, the Rev. David F. Macdonald, who had come to 
 me as a candidate for Orders, from the Bishop (Eden) of 
 Moray and Ross in Scotland, and had lately been ordained 
 Deacon. He usually officiated on Sunday morning at 
 Benicia, and in the afternoon at Martinez, on the opposite 
 side of the Oarquinez Straits, and also held occasional ser- 
 vices at Vallejo. 
 
 During the next three years but little progress was made. 
 The officers and their families, on whom we chiefly de- 
 pended, were constantly changing, and after about six 
 months Mr. Macdonald removed to Coloma. Then there 
 was a succession of lay readers, Dr. Tripler, Oapt. Gardiner 
 of the First Dragoons, Dr. Murray, U. S. A., and Lieut. 
 Julian McAllister of the Ordnance Corps. 
 
 During the winter of 1858-9, I frequently spent Sunday 
 there, having service in Benicia in the morning, and at Mar- 
 tinez in the afternoon. At the latter place the Methodist 
 chapel was always offered for our use. I generally had also 
 a third service at night. The Female Seminary, Miss Atkins 
 principal, contained at that time about sevent}^ puj^ils, 
 the majority of whom attended the services at the chapel 
 and indeed took charge of the music. They collect here 
 from all parts of the State and in a j-ear or two scatter to 
 their homes, to be the future mothers of our people. Feel- 
 ing how great an influence they might exert, I arranged for 
 a Sunday evening service whenever I should be in Benicia. 
 My service at the school was a familiar, extemporaneous 
 lecture, prefaced by singing and the reading of some col- 
 lects. During the last season (August, 1859), I held a 
 special Confirmation at the school the evening before the 
 
202 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 term ended, to confirm two young ladies who were the next 
 day to leave for their homes. 
 
 In May, 1859, the Kev. E. W. Hager became Missionary 
 here, officiating on alternate Sundays at this place and 
 Napa. As, however, he returned to the East in September, 
 but little was effected. 
 
 During the following autumn, a lot was procured and 
 subscriptions made for building the church edifice. The 
 project was carried through, and a neat wooden church of 
 Gothic architecture erected at a cost of about fifteen hundred 
 dollars. It was consecrated in January, 1860. The day was 
 beautiful and balmy, and the services were admirably con- 
 ducted. The Kev. Messrs. Thrall and MacAUister of this 
 city took part in the service. The Eev. Messrs. Ewer and 
 Chittenden intended to be present, but, having trusted to 
 the Suisun boat of that morning, arrived too late. Thus the 
 parish is established on a firm basis and will be supplied 
 by services from this city until it can procure a permanent 
 Rector. 
 
XXI. 
 
 SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 I. Los Angeles. 
 
 I HAD several times Lad urgent requests from the few 
 Americans at Los Angeles, to pay them a visit; and also let- 
 ters from Captain Gardiner, our Lay Keader at Fort Tejon 
 in the south-eastern part of the State, expressing the same 
 desire. He reads service on Sunday, but they wished to 
 have the Holy Communion administered and some children 
 baptized. He offered, as travelling is unsafe in that part of 
 the country, to send an escort of Dragoons down to Los An- 
 geles to accompany us on our return. I had therefore made 
 arrangements to take the journey. At Los Angeles we were 
 to be joined by the Hon. Edward Stanly (late of North 
 Carolina), who went down by the previous steamer. 
 
 I had been prevented during the whole of the past 
 year from visiting the southern part of the State, as it 
 is infested by the worst class of whites and Mexicans, 
 who often rob in large parties, and render it unsafe to 
 travel, except with a party thoroughly armed. Major 
 E. D. Townsend, U. S. A. (whom I have already men- 
 tioned as our lay reader at Benicia), having been or- 
 
 203 
 
204 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 dered to inspect Forts Tejon and Miller, liad to pass 
 through the country, and I availed myself of the opportuni- 
 ty to go with him. Some other friends had offered to join 
 us, for the purpose of seeing the country, so that we expect- 
 ed to be strong enough in numbers to dispense with Cap- 
 tain Gardiner's Dragoons. Besides Mr. Stanly and Major 
 Townsend, the party consisted of m^^ youngest son, "Willie, 
 and myself, James E. Calhoun, (son of the late Vice-Presi- 
 dent, John C. Calhoun, of South Carolina) and Jas. T. Smith* 
 of San Francisco. 
 
 My objects were, to spend a Sunday at Los Angeles, where 
 the services of the Church had never been held, for I was 
 the first clergyman of our Church in Southern California, 
 except Mr. Reynolds at San Diego— another Sunday at 
 Fort Tejon, — another at Fort Miller, where there had never 
 been a service, — and generally, to see what is the charac- 
 ter of the southern half of the State, with reference to the 
 future prospects of the Church. 
 
 October 1st, 1855. At four p. m. we were on board of the 
 steamer Bepiiblic for San Diego. The last time Captain 
 Baby and I voyaged together, he was mate of the Golden 
 Gate when we were wrecked at San Diego, and I found 
 therefore that he looked rather suspiciously at me. The 
 clergy, in such cases, are regarded by sailors as Jonahs. 
 We had about fifty passengers. The fog was rolling in 
 when we sailed, and no sooner had we passed the Heads 
 and struck the swell of the ocean, than we plunged into a 
 dense bank, in which it was impossible to see for twenty 
 feet. The Captain says, he never went out in so thick a fog. 
 
 * Afterwards Rev. J. Tuttle Smith of New York. 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 205 
 
 At intervals, all night, the bell was kept ringing, and at 
 about three in the morning, we were, as the Captain sup- 
 posed, off Monterey. We therefore came to, and as the sea 
 was heavy, we were left rolling in its trough for the rest of 
 the night. At daybreak the fog still continued, but we kept 
 slowly drawing in to land until about ten o'clock, when it 
 lifted and we saw the coast, so that we could find the mouth 
 of the harbor. 
 
 We anchored at the usual place in the bay, when the 
 boats came off and took us to shore. Monterey is un- 
 changed since I had service here in August of last year. 
 Everything is as quiet and beautiful as formerly— a perfect 
 Si)anish town. Major Townsend and I went to see Mrs. 
 Boston's family, (with whom I stayed on my last visit), and 
 then took a walk through town, and visited Oolton Hall and 
 the old Church. 
 
 Mr. Calhoun and Willie in their walk saw a characteris- 
 tic California scene. Two men who had been quarrelling, 
 proposed settling the dispute on the spot by the duello. So 
 they drew pistols and prepared to take their ground. It 
 was just in front of a house, the owner of which came out 
 and objected to their selecting that spot for the fight. 
 This brought on a kind of triangular contest, when the last 
 comer seeing a magistrate leaning against the fence a short 
 distance off, appealed to him to stop them. Instead, hovv^- 
 ever, of doing so, he threatened to arrest the pacificator for 
 interfering. The quarrel had now diffused itself and got 
 into other hands; and perhaps the hot blood had time to 
 cool, so the difficulty was made up. 
 
 The last half hour on shore was passed with the Hon. Mr. 
 Wall, collector of the port. 
 
206 THE EARL\ DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 Three weeks afterward, his dead body pierced by seven 
 balls, was found on the road a few miles from Monterey, and 
 at a short distance from it the body of a gentleman, his 
 companion. They had been attacked by a party of five 
 mounted Senorians. Later, in attempting to capture these 
 men, Mr. Layton, another of our Churchmen here, was 
 killed with two others. I mention this to show the ne- 
 cessity for my armed escort in travelling in this southern 
 country. 
 
 At three p. m. we sailed, but the sea proved to be rough, and 
 most of us were soon in our state-rooms. The rest of the 
 day, and through the night, we were pitching about in a 
 dreamy, uncomfortable state of being, afraid to move for 
 fear of consequences. 
 
 Wednesday, Oct. 3rd. The sea smoother, but the fog still 
 dense. In the morning the Captain found he had run too 
 close in shore, and was near the spot where, last year, the 
 unfortunate Yarikee Blade was lost with many passengers. 
 During the morning the fog cleared off, and we got on our 
 true course. At one p. M.we anchored opposite to Santa Bar- 
 bara, and went ashore in the steamer's boat, generally a 
 difficult feat on account of the heavy surf. As there is no 
 wliarf, the boat has to be run up on shore, while the passen- 
 gers watch their chances, and jump before the wave re- 
 turns. 
 
 Santa Barbara has its old California population, and there 
 seem to be few Americans settled there. Everything, there- 
 fore, is primitive and quiet. The houses are all open, as if 
 they people lived out of doors; and the agricultural imj^le- 
 ments, scattered about, are of the same clumsy patterns their 
 fathers used in Mexico a hundred years ago. The town is 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 207 
 
 about half a mile from the bay, and is said to contain twelve 
 hundred inhabitants. 
 
 A mile and a half back, on the rising ground at the base 
 of the hills, stands the old Mission of Santa Barbara. We 
 walked out to it; and found the same evidences of decay and 
 dilapidation which characterize all the California Missions. 
 There is, as usual, an extensive range of buildings, once oc- 
 cupied by the priests, and terminated at one end by a large 
 church. Around were the remains of their vineyards and 
 gardens, with a few slight houses, about which some Indians 
 were lounging in the sun, the relics of their once numerous 
 bands of converts. 
 
 As we found there was a solitary priest still residing here 
 and keeping up the services of the Church, we knocked at 
 his door and brought him out, — an old man in the coarse 
 gray Franciscan dress. Calling an Indian boy, he sent him 
 to unlock the church for us. It was like all the other Mis- 
 sion churches, with little to recommend it but its size, and 
 having, at the entrance, the usual horrible pictures of Pur- 
 gatory and Paradise. In front of the building was a circu- 
 lar reservoir with a carved stone fountain. It is now dry 
 and dusty. We found there was a series of these reservoirs 
 on the mountain side, on successively rising planes, and 
 connected by canals. In this way water was brought four- 
 teen miles from its source in the mountains. Now, how- 
 ever, most of them are dry, their stone ornaments are 
 broken in pieces, and the surrounding country, which 
 the old Padres thus irrigated and made like a garden, is 
 fast relapsing into its former wildness. It is a lovely spot, 
 hovv^ever, commanding a wide view of the country and bay, 
 and was selected with the usual good taste of the friars. 
 
208 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 "We walked back again to the shore. The Ewing, U. S. 
 survejdng vessel, had just come in. Her Lieutenant took us 
 off to our steamer, in his boat, and at seven p. m. we were 
 again under way. 
 
 Thursday, Oct. 4th. At about seven a. m. we anchored 
 opposite to San Pedro, four hundred and twenty miles from 
 San Francisco, and the end of our voyage. Here we leave 
 the steamer, which goes on to San Diego. At the edge of 
 the w^ater is a high bank, and from this the plain extends 
 far as we can see. There are three adobe houses on the 
 bank, and everything looks just as it did when Dana 
 described it in his " Two Years before the Mast," more 
 than twenty years ago. We landed in the steamer's boats, 
 and after an unsavory breakfast at one of the houses, 
 a wagon was produced, to which four half-broken California 
 horses were harnessed. The men huug on to their heads, 
 swayed about, and at times raised themselves off their 
 feet as the animals struggled, till the signal for starting 
 was given, when they sprang off, simultaneously, and the 
 released animals dashed away at full speed. The driver 
 occasionally looked in to ask us, on which side we wished 
 to fall when we upset. This seemed to be his standing 
 joke, and one which I thought it not improbable might be- 
 come a serious question with us. 
 
 The plains were covered with thousands of cattle and 
 horses, quite reminding us of the descriptions of old Cali- 
 fornia times. In the twenty-five miles of our journey, there 
 were but two or three shanties, erected by squatters who 
 were raising cattle, and not a fence or enclosure, except the 
 corrals about them. We reached Los Angeles in about two 
 hours and a half, having changed horses once on the way. 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 209 
 
 As we approached the town there was a marked change from 
 the treeless sterihty of the plains. We found ourselves 
 winding through the midst of vineyards and gardens, and on 
 all sides saw workmen engaged in the manufacture of wine. 
 
 Friday, Oct 5th. Los Angeles has alFthe characteristics of 
 an old Spanish town. It contains about five thousand in- 
 habitants, two thousand of whom may be Americans or Eng- 
 lish. The houses ara almost invariably one story high, — a 
 style of building which an occasional earthquake has ren- 
 dered advisable. All around it is a perfect garden, luxuri- 
 ant with every kind of fruit. We visited one vineyard, which, 
 besides a profusion of other fruits, contained fifty thousand 
 vines of a large blue grape. Part of these grapes are each 
 week sent to San Francisco by the return steamer from San 
 Diego, and part are manufactured into wine. 
 
 Saturday, Oct. 6. Availing ourselves of this day to see some- 
 thing of the surrounding country, we drove out about 
 eleven miles to the San Gabriel Mission. It stands in a 
 most lovely country, but like all the others I have visited, 
 is now in a state of decay. The single priest remaining 
 here, — a Frenchman speaking no English, — took us into 
 the sacrist}' and showed us the rich fabrics, heavy with 
 gold embroidery, — remains of their former glory, — and 
 probably brought originally from Spain. We entered the 
 large church, once filled with their Indian converts, but now 
 of a size entirely useless. Several children were on their 
 knees before the chancel, who went on with their devotions 
 without seeming to notice our party. The eldest was read- 
 ing aloud from some devotional book, while the others re- 
 sponded at intervals. The heavy stone walls of the church 
 were hung with the usual pictures. 
 
210 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 Around the Mission is a country unsurpassed for fertility. 
 It is well irrigated by little streams from the mountams, 
 that have been led through the fields by the labor of the 
 old Padres. The only settlers, however, are the lowest 
 class of Spanish Californians or Indians, whose little huts 
 are scattered about, among which the children were running 
 around in a state of entire nudity. In the hands of our 
 Eastern farmers, this country, with its perpetual summer, 
 would become a perfect Eden. 
 
 About a mile from the Mission is a rich tract of wooded 
 country, called the Monte, and celebrated for the luxuriance 
 of its crops. Corn grows here to a height which seems fab- 
 ulous to strangers. It is peopled by a wild class of settlers 
 from our Western States, whose only religious instruction 
 is derived from an occasional Methodist camp-meeting. 
 
 On our way home we stopped at the vineyard of a gen- 
 tleman, (Hon. Mr. Wilson, who is one of those most inter- 
 ested, in Los Angeles, in the establishment of the Church,) 
 and I describe it to show what Providence has done for this 
 country. It is about seven miles from town. The house 
 stands on rising ground, and from the front of it there 
 is a view of many miles of rich landscape, much of it dotted 
 with oak trees. His men were all busy in the manufac- 
 ture of wine; and while some of them were bringing in 
 the grapes in baskets, others, standing in the vats with 
 their naked feet, were literally " treading the wine press." 
 The proprietor receives eight thousand dollars a year from 
 the sale of his wine alone. 
 
 In the vineyard, besides the grapes, we found a collec- 
 tion of fruit which I had never seen equalled in any part of 
 the world. There were melons of all kinds, figs just burst- 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 211 
 
 ing, delicious peaches, j)omegranates, tunas, (the cactus 
 fruit,) pears and Madeira nuts. Strawberries are raised 
 throughout the year. 
 
 >^ Sunday, Oct. 7th. Until within the last six months, there 
 had been no religious service of any kind in Los Angeles, ex- 
 cept that of the Koman Church. As the preaching there 
 was in Spanish, the Americans never went to it, and were 
 without anything to mark the coming of Sunday. At that 
 time the Presbyterians sent a minister here who officiated in 
 one of the public court rooms, while the Methodists erected 
 a small building and commenced their services. The lat- 
 ter place had been offered to us for our services on this day. ' 
 
 We had service morning and evening, — the first time our 
 solemn liturgy was ever heard in this section of the country. 
 At the morning service there were about eighty present, and 
 a much larger number in the evening. The next day, just 
 before leaving the place, I baptized the four children of a 
 gentleman, whose family, at the East, had been attached to 
 the Church. 
 
 I found several such families in this place, whom I sought 
 out and visited. They are literally "Christ's sheep dis- 
 persed abroad in this naughty world." Before leaving, 
 I had an opportunity of conferring with a number of the 
 inhabitants. They told me, the persons present had been 
 much impressed with the dignity and solemnity of our ser- 
 vice, — that neither Presbyterianism nor Methodism could 
 exert any influence on this population, — but they had no 
 doubt the Church could be established under very favorable 
 circumstances. They wanted something which did not 
 preach Nebraska or Kansas, slavery or anti-slavery, and 
 that was not identified with any of the isms of the day. 
 
212 rHE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 I have no doubt they are right, and that they would 
 be able to support a clergyman, as they professed to be 
 ready to do so as soon as the right man could be sent. This 
 work, however, calls for a man of zeal and energy, with con- 
 siderable ability as a preacher and knowledge of the world 
 as well. 
 
 Our Church people at the East, residing all their lives in 
 a settled state of society, have no idea of the difficulty of 
 forming a congregation from a population who have not 
 heard the gospel preached for years, who are living under 
 no religious restraints, and among whom the religious ele- 
 ment is yet to be created. It is a work of faith, and time, 
 and patience. 
 
 Yet to how many of our energetic young men this should 
 present a noble field ! Here they would be the first her- 
 alds of the Church; and instead of wearing out their lives 
 in a severe and changing climate, they might make a home 
 in one of the healthiest places in the world. A perpetual 
 summer reigns; and for this reason, perhaps, the early Span- 
 iards named it the City of Los Angeles, (the City of the An- 
 gels). I certainly have never seen a country which more fully 
 realizes Bishop Heber's description — 
 
 *' every prospect pleases, 
 
 And only man is vile." 
 
 II. Fort Tejon. 
 
 Mondayy Oct. 8. Captain Gardiner had sent down from 
 Fort Tejon (about a hundred miles distant,) a large, heavy 
 ambulance wagon, for no other is adapted to the mountain 
 passes through which our road leads. It was drawn by 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 213 
 
 four mules, and had Bell, a dragoon, as driver, who was 
 well acquainted with the country. 
 
 Bell was well armed, and all the gentlemen with me had 
 their rifles and revolvers. I was the only one of the party 
 without any weapon. As the party was so strong, Captain 
 Gardiner had not thought it necessary to send any escort, 
 as he had intended, believing that we were able to take 
 care of ourselves. 
 
 It may seem strange to an Eastern reader to hear of a 
 Bishop's visitation made with such accompaniments, but 
 here there is no help for it. The country through which 
 we are to pass is infested with California and Mexican 
 outlaws, whose trade is robbery, and who will often 
 shoot down a traveller for the sake of the horse on 
 which he is mounted. Our friends in Los Angeles warned 
 us, when we left the vehicle to walk, as we were often 
 obliged to do for miles at a time, not to straggle off, but to 
 keep together. Sometimes these banditti attack in troops, 
 as in the murder of Mr. Wall at Monterey, which I have 
 mentioned. At other times a single Mexican on horse- 
 back dashes by the unsuspecting traveller. As he passes 
 within twenty feet, suddenly the lariat, which he carries 
 coiled up at his saddle bow, is whirled round his head, and 
 ere the traveller can put himself on his defence, its circle 
 descends with unerring precision, and he is hurled sense- 
 less from his horse. Then, too, in camping out at night, 
 our rest may be invaded by a grizzly bear, as they abound 
 in these mountains. They often exceed sixteen hundred 
 pounds in weight, and are so tenacious of life that an en- 
 counter with them ia more dangerous than with an African 
 lion. 
 
214 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 We left at eleven o'clock and had hardly got out on the 
 plains, about two miles from Los Angeles, when, in de- 
 scending a gulch, part of the harness broke, the mules 
 whirled around, and we were saved from an overturn only 
 by the snapping off of the pole. Nothing could be done 
 where we were, so Bell had to take a couple of mules, re- 
 turn to town and have a new pole made. We were there- 
 fore left for some hours with the wagon and the other mules. 
 I read, or looked out over the apparently interminable 
 plains, while my companions practiced rifle shooting. 
 About three in the afternoon our driver returned, and we 
 made a new start. We shortly passed through a chain of 
 hills, and then again over the plains for seventeen miles. 
 Not a living object was seen for hours, till, toward evening, 
 the coyotes came out, and we saw them loping along, as 
 they followed us, with their long gallop. They were often 
 in troops, in one of which we counted seven. 
 
 In consequence of our delay by the accident, night closed 
 long before we reached our destination. We drove on 
 some time in darkness, till the appearance of a single light, 
 a long distance ahead, showed that we were approaching 
 some habitation. After a time we reached enclosures, — the 
 first we had seen since leaving Los Angeles, — and found 
 ourselves at the old Mission of San Fernando. The build- 
 ings are the most massive I have seen in this country. 
 Along the whole front runs a corridor, which must be three 
 hundred feet in length, supported by heavy square stone 
 pillars. Some of the apartments are forty feet long, with 
 thick stone walls and stone floors, reminding me of old cas- 
 tellated mansions in the south of Europe. 
 
 Several other travellers arrived late at night from differ- 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 215 
 
 ent directions. One of tliem— an example of the varied 
 characters to be met with here— was a Scotchman, a grad- 
 uate of the University of Edinburgh, who had been for 
 some years in South America, and was now seeking his 
 fortune in this new land. He arrived almost exhausted, 
 having had no food or water for twenty-four hours. His 
 horse had given out in the mountains, and while pursuing 
 his way on foot, he suddenly saw a huge grizzly in the path 
 before him. Afraid to fire at him, he unslung his tin pros- 
 pecting pan, and drawing his ramrod, commenced a clatter 
 on the pan, which soon drove the grizzly oif. 
 
 We had letters to Don Andreas Pico, the present owner 
 of the Mission, and as he was absent, presented them to 
 his major-domo, who treated us with all the hospitality in 
 his power. We had a regular Spanish supper, olla podrida, 
 frijolas and tortillas with native wine. At night our party 
 were all put in a room forty feet long, with one bed in the 
 corner for the six. This, they insisted that I should occupy 
 with my son, while the rest lay on the stone floor wrapped 
 in their blankets. 
 
 Tuesday, Oct. 9. We were up at dawn, expecting to be off 
 early, but were detained an hour for breakfast. Our morn- 
 ing ablutions were performed at a little stream in front of 
 the door, which the old Padres had led there to irrigate 
 their gardens. We availed ourselves of this delay to in- 
 spect the buildings. The church is like all other Mission 
 churches, except in one particular. It forms one side of a 
 quadrangle, the other three sides of which are buildings 
 about ten feet high. This space was formerly used for bull- 
 fights, and the spectators were accommodated on the roofs of 
 these buildings. There are two very extensive vineyards. 
 
216 HE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 abounding also with other kinds of fruit. The grapes here 
 are said to be of a finer flavor than those at Los Angeles. 
 The workmen at the mills were making wine at the time. 
 
 We had a Spanish breakfast exactly similar to our supper 
 the night before. Upon offering to pay the major-domo, 
 he refused to receive an}i;hing. We then urged him to take 
 a present for himself, but he said, " No ; when strangers 
 come along, if they make me a present, I receive it ; but 
 not from the friends ^of Don Andreas." And all this was 
 announced with the highest Castilian manner. 
 
 It was seven o'clock before we left the Mission, and after 
 proceeding a few miles, we reached the San Fernando Pass, 
 where the road has been cut through a deep defile in the 
 mountains. Here we had to get out and walk for some 
 miles, and the scenery was the wildest I have seen since I 
 crossed the Alps. How our heavy wagon was to get over, 
 was a marvel to us. At one place was a ledge of rocks al- 
 most perpendicular, about four feet high, down w^hich it 
 plunged as if it would turn over and crush the mules, while 
 we involuntarily held our breath as we looked on. In the 
 pass, two Indians on horseback met us as we were walking, 
 and were loud in their demands for mone}', till some of the 
 gentlemen allowed their arms to be seen, when their tone 
 was moderated considerably. Had my companions been un- 
 armed, it was evident they would have had no scruples about 
 enforcing their wishes. 
 
 After passing the hills, our course for twenty-two miles 
 was over a level plain, at the termination of which we en- 
 tered, what was stated to be the most dangerous part of our 
 journey, — a canon, or winding defile through the mountains, 
 about seventeen miles long. It is a narrow pass, hemmed 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 217 
 
 in on both sides by the high mountains, often allowing 
 scarcely room for the wagon to pass. A small stream flows 
 through it, which is crossed by the road more than eighty 
 times in the space of the seventeen miles. In addition to 
 its being the resort of grizzlies, its fastnesses are the hiding 
 places of the American or Mexican desperadoes who are such 
 a scourge to this part of the country. 
 
 We stopped just at the entrance of it, near the only house 
 there is for twenty miles in any direction, to take lunch and 
 rest our mules. We had to choose this spot on account of 
 a spring there. A short time before, this house had become 
 so notorious a resort of robbers, that a party came out from 
 Los Angeles, captured its inmates, — two Americans and four 
 Mexicans, — and hanged them on the spot. As the spring 
 by which we halted was only a few hundred yards distant, 
 we noticed that the house had a new set of occupants, but 
 did not learn whether its character had improved. 
 
 It was about noon when we entered the defile, the 
 branches of trees on both sides often sweeping against our 
 wagon, and long before sunset involving us in twilight. 
 Many parts of it reminded me of our ride through the 
 mountains on the Isthmus, from Oruces to Panama. So, on 
 our mules dragged the heavy wagon over the rocks and 
 through the streams, while most, of the way we walked. 
 Through the whole day we met no human beings and did 
 not wish to, as they probably would not be of the class we 
 would like to encounter. 
 
 It is strange to travel thus through a country with the 
 feeling that every one you meet is supposed to be an enemy, 
 and is to be treated accordingly. Mr. Oallioun has had oc- 
 casion sometimes to ride about in this region by himself, 
 
218 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 and I asked him how he managed when he met anyone. 
 He said — " When I see a Mexican approaching, I cock my 
 rifle and cover him with it, at the same time calling to 
 him to raise his hand away from his lasso which hangs at 
 his saddle-bow. In this way I keep my rifle on him un- 
 til he has passed and got beyond lasso distance, ready to 
 pull the trigger the instant I see him touch it." 
 
 We had intended to extricate ourselves from the caiion 
 before daylight ended, so as to encamp on the open plain 
 beyond. But when night closed about us, we were still 
 five miles from the end, our mules were tired out, and it 
 was rapidly becoming too dark to thread our way through 
 the ravines. We therefore turned aside on reaching a level 
 spot, with the little stream on one side and high rocks be- 
 hind us. A fallen tree furnished an abundance of wood for 
 our fire, which was supplied with large logs to last through 
 the night. Here our basket of provisions was opened, tea 
 boiled, and reclining about the fire we had our evening 
 meal. Willie and I slept in the wagon, the boards of which 
 we found hard enough, while the rest lay round the fire 
 wrapped in their blankets. Rifles were fresh capped, revol- 
 vers examined, and each slept with his arms within reach. 
 No regular watch was kept, as some one was up every hour 
 to replenish the fire, and the mules picketed around would 
 prove the best sentinels. On the first approach of men or 
 wild beasts, in such cases, they exhibit an uneasiness which 
 cannot but rouse up at once the whole party. 
 
 Wednesday, Oct 10th. We were up before daybreak, and 
 on our way as soon as it was light enough to see the path. 
 We were obliged to walk the greater part of the five miles 
 through the ravine. At last, we emerged into an open val- 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 219 
 
 ley, covered here and there with oaks. In this we found a 
 company of CaUfornians camping with several hundred cat- 
 tle, which were scattered over some miles, and which they 
 were driving to the upper country to sell. 
 
 Where the valley expands into the wide plains, Elizabeth 
 Lake was pointed out to us at a distance. It is about half 
 a mile long, and lay glittering in the sunlight, exactly like 
 snow of the most dazzling whiteness. On coming near, we 
 found it was without a drop of water but filled with a de- 
 posit of saleratus. Not far off was the canvas hut of a set- 
 tler, the only house we were to pass in our day's journey, 
 near which lay the remains of three bears he had lassoed 
 and killed. 
 
 The plains here are about fifteen miles in width. As the 
 day advanced it became intensely hot; yet we were obliged 
 to push on until we could reach some water to prepare our 
 breakfast and refresh our mules. About half past ten 
 o'clock, after traveling five hours, we reached a little spring, 
 at which we stopped, as there is no water for the next four- 
 teen miles. By damming it up we obtained enough for our 
 wants. There was, however, no shade, and no tree within 
 miles of us. We all scattered, therefore, about the plain to 
 collect sticks, and the wagon was arranged so as to get as 
 much shade as possible on one side of it. Into this we 
 crowded, and our fire was built to prepare for breakfast. 
 Some of our party were almost exhausted, but we found that 
 hot tea equally with sleep merited the praise of being 
 
 '' Tired nature's sweet restorer." 
 
 We had a long, hot drive all day over the plains. There 
 was no timber, except in one i)lace, where the plain was 
 
220 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 covered with a kind of palm for a space of two miles. We 
 saw numerous bands of antelopes, but, frightened by the 
 ambulance, they kept at a distance. There was a dreary 
 uniformity in our prospect, — the same flat, scorched prairie. 
 Descending a few feet, we passed for half a mile over the 
 dry sandy bed of what was once a wide river. We saw no 
 one, except a train of four or five wagons, containing a party 
 of Mormons going from Salt Lake to their settlement of 
 San Bernardino in the southern part of the State. 
 
 In the middle of the afternoon we reached the only water 
 to be found for many miles, and, of course, had to remain 
 till next morning. It is a small spring, of which an Irish- 
 man has taken possession. He has a canvas house of one 
 room, and supports himself by hig gun, and by furnishing 
 provisions to parties passing over the plains. A pile of an- 
 telope skins lying near the house, gave an intimation of 
 what our fare was to be, and we soon had a dinner of the 
 meat, cooked for*us out in the open air. Towards evening, 
 some of our party went to the neighboring hills to try to 
 shoot an antelope for themselves, but came back unsuccess- 
 ful. At night, we camped out near the house. 
 
 In the evening a man arrived on horseback, leading 
 another horse. He proved to be a Mormon belonging to a 
 party, camped twelve miles distant in the hills, by whom he 
 had been sent down for provisions. He was a perfect spec- 
 imen of the wild, reckless, swearing class of men who infest 
 this country, utterly careless of his own life and regardless 
 of that of every one else. Late at night, to our relief, he 
 took his departure, and we heard him shouting and singing, 
 as he went up through the hills, " making mght hideous " 
 with his ribaldry. 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 221 
 
 ' Tliursdmj, Oct. lltb. The stars were sliining- when we 
 arose, and as there is no dressing to be done, it does not 
 take us lopg- to prepare for our journey. Before we set out, 
 " Irish John " cooked breakfast for us. In a few miles the 
 plains ended and we reached the hills, and then wound 
 through Yallejs dotted with old oak trees. Occasionally 
 we saw a little lake, and, as on the day before, frequent 
 bands of antelopes. About noon we reached Tejon Pass, a 
 valley hemmed in by mountains. At its entrance a large 
 drj^ lake of saleratus glittered in the sun. The loose pow- 
 der wafted up by the wind hung over it like a white cloud. 
 The valley here is several miles wide, and as we drove 
 through it we saw on the soft earth, the whole length of 
 our way, the tracks of two large grizzlies which had 
 shortly preceded us. As we approached the military post. 
 Bell cracked his whip vigorously, and the tired mules, 
 urged to a spasmodic effort, dashed up to the officers* 
 quarters where we found Captain Gardiner ready to receive 
 us. 
 
 The post at the Tejon is on a little plain, entirely sur- 
 rounded by high mountains, which give it a confined ap- 
 pearance. It is, however, beautifull}^ situated in a grove 
 of old oaks. Under one of these, which stands on the 
 parade ground, in 1837, Peter Le Bee, an old hunter, was 
 killed by a bear, and his companions buried him at its 
 foot. They then stripped the bark, for some three feet, 
 from the trunk of the tree; and carved on it an inscrip- 
 tion, surmounted by a cross, which remains to this day, 
 though the bark is beginning to grow over it on all sides. 
 
 The barracks, — handsome adobe buildings, — were being 
 erected around the sides of the parade ground. None of 
 
222 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 them were yet finished, and the soldiers were living in tents. 
 The officers, too, were living under canvas, except Captain 
 Gardiner, who had a small temporary adobe building, which 
 is soon to be demolished. Willie and I stayed with him, 
 while the rest of the party were distributed among the 
 other officers. There are ordinarily about six officers and 
 one hundred and twenty dragoons stationed here, besides 
 the numerous civilians who are storekeepers and employees 
 of the post. A squad of dragoons is kept seventeen miles 
 off, on the reservation, to watch the Indians. 
 
 Friday, Oct. 12th. To-day Major Townsend attended to his 
 official duties. The soldiers were all paraded for him to 
 inspect. As their horses are pasturing four miles off, they 
 were inspected as infantry. Most of the horses have lately 
 come over the plains with Colonel Steptoe's command, by 
 the way of Salt Lake, and will need some time to recruit 
 from the fatigues of the march, where both water and forage 
 were often exceedingly scarce. The Major afterwards in- 
 spected every department of the post. The officers were 
 all invited to meet us at dinner at Captain Gardiner's. 
 
 Saturday J Oct. 13th. We all dined to-day at Captain 
 Kirkham's. He had one canvas tent in front for his family, 
 and another, a few feet back of it, for his kitchen. Between 
 them was a large oak tree, and under it was stretched an 
 awning connecting the two tents. This was the dining- 
 room. Beside the table rose the rough trunk of the old tree, 
 so that we had (as one of the party remarked), " oak carv- 
 ings about us." 
 
 In the afternoon we rode out about four miles, through 
 the passes of the mountains, to where the dragoons' horses 
 were pasturing, and in the evening, in company with Cap- 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 223 
 
 tain Gardiner, I visited the widow of Lieut. Castor, who had 
 died about a month before. 
 
 Sunday, Oct 14th. There is no service of the Church 
 within two hundred and fifty miles of this place, nor a re- 
 ligious service of any kind nearer than Los Angeles. It 
 happens, however, (not an unusual circumstance in the 
 army,) that all the officers at this post are Churchmen — 
 several are communicants — and Captains Gardiner and Kirk- 
 ham have their families residing here. The former was, 
 therefore, some months ago, licensed to act as lay reader, 
 and one service has been regularly performed. My object 
 in spending the Sunday here, was, by myself holding ser- 
 vice, to give in the minds of the men a sanction to that of 
 the lay reader — to administer the Holy Communion, which 
 some of them have had no opportunity of receiving since 
 they left the Atlantic States — and also to baptize several 
 children, whose families may remain for years at this se- 
 cluded post, without the opportunity of seeing a clerygman. 
 
 We had service in a large room of the unfinished barracks. 
 All the officers and quite a number o the men attended. 
 At the Holy Communion there were seven recipients be- 
 sides the members of our own party. At noon, at Captain 
 Kirkham's quarters, I baptized his infant, only one week 
 old, and after the Second Lesson in the afternoon, baptized 
 the child of Captain Gardiner. In the evening I visited the 
 family of a soldier who had died that day. He was buried 
 early the next morning, his comrades firing their volleys 
 over his grave, after I had read the burial service. 
 
 Thus ended my visit at this dragoon station, made so 
 pleasant by the warm hospitality of the officers. I was fully 
 compensated for all the fatigue of the journey by the op- 
 
224 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 portunity afforded me to administer the solemn Sacraments 
 of the Church where they had never before been witnessed, 
 and to tLoLe who otherwise might not receive them for many 
 years. 
 
 III. The Plains and Fort MiUer. 
 
 Monday, Oct. 15. About eleven o'clock we took leave of 
 our hosts, several of the officers accompanying us on 
 horseback for our first day's ride. We had the same driver 
 and heavy ambulance as before, with six males, a dragoon 
 on horseback to act as guide, and two saddle horses, so that 
 we could in turn have the relief of a ride and also lighten the 
 wagon of our weight. 
 
 In the first few miles through the pass of tho mountains 
 the scenery was exceedingly wild, and the descent so great 
 that we had to walk most of the ^^j. The road descends 
 twenty-four hundred feet in five miles. From the moun- 
 tian side we had a view of the plain stretching as far as the 
 eye could reach, and in the distance, glancing in the sun- 
 light, the waters of Kern Lake- Just as we entered on the 
 plain, we passed a small Ii.aian village of about forty per- 
 sons, 
 
 After skirting the mountain for some twelve miles, we 
 arrived at the Indian Reservation. Here we were obliged 
 to sto23 for Lhe rest of the day, as Major Townsend was or- 
 dered to investigate its condition. There is here a tract of 
 thirty thousand acres set apart by Government for the In- 
 dians, but at present there are not three hundred residing 
 on it. At thii season however the wild Indians from 
 the mountains have come down to unite with them in hold- 
 ing their annual Dog Feast, so that there are about one. 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 225 
 
 thousand present. We passed several groups of tliem, 
 almost in a state of nuditj', washing their clothes by the lit- 
 tle stream which flows through the Reserve; and on reaching 
 their grand encampment, stopped and walked through it. 
 Their lodges were arranged in a circle, all opening inwardly. 
 The Indians were lounging in the shade, roasting dogs and 
 eating them, while the greater part of those not thus em- 
 ployed, were gambling. The women seemed even more en- 
 grossed in this than the men, most of them so intensely in- 
 terested that they would scarcely look up at us. They sat 
 in circles on the ground, and the favorite game was one in 
 which sticks a foot long were thrown about like jack-straws. 
 
 We drove on about four miles to the residence of the 
 Indian agent. He has a plain house, with one room on each 
 side of the hall, where he lives with eight or ten employees. 
 A short distance from the house, on a little knoll, is the 
 grave of one of his men who was killed a month before by 
 a grizzly. 
 
 The agent entertained us to the best of his ability, giving 
 one room in which there was a bed, to myself and S021, and 
 the only other room to the rest of our party, who slept on 
 the floor wrapped in their blankets. We had for dinner, 
 some tough meat, and hot bread as heavy as lead, coffee 
 sweetened with a kind of maple sugar made on the prera- 
 ises, but no milk. 
 
 After attempting this dinner it was thought advisable to 
 have a gallop on horseback before we endeavored to sleep. 
 In the latter part of the afternoon, therefore, Mr. Stanly and 
 Willie rode down to the Indian camp, whiie the rest of our 
 party waited till dark to go with the Indian agent, who was 
 to provide us with horses and act as guide. There was 
 
226 ^-^-^ EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 just moon enough to show the trail as we galloped over the 
 prairie, and long before we reached the camp we heard the 
 sound of the Indian drums. We found them all very busy, 
 and fires lighted in every direction. Some of the party 
 tried dog's meat, but I was contented to tahe their report 
 on the matter. This feast was in honor of the dead of the 
 past year, and on one day during its continuance they bury 
 all the efiects of the departed. 
 
 There was to be a war dance late in the evening by some 
 of the wild Indians, which was to take place outside of the 
 camp. A large fire was made, and we waited for an hour, 
 during which some of the Indians, who had been at one 
 time at the old Missions, were singing songs in a nasal tone 
 very much like the intoning of the service by the old Padres, 
 from whom they had undoubtedly acquired it. Tired out 
 with waiting, I went into an unoccupied Indian lodge near 
 by, and threw myself down to rest. As I lay there, looking 
 up to the roof above me made of tule reeds, through which 
 the occasional glimmering of the stars was seen, the only 
 light being the glare of the fires before the opening of the 
 lodge, and listening to the discordant singing of the Indians 
 without, I thought how strange it was to find myself in such 
 a situation in this wild country on the Pacific coast. 
 
 Hearing at last that the war party had finished painting 
 and were nearly ready, we walked out in search of them. 
 We found them grouped around the dim embers of a fire, 
 singing in a low, droning tone, as if preparing their spirits 
 for the task. After a time they rose, and repairing to where 
 the large fire had been built, ranged themselves before it. 
 The musicians, seated on the ground on the other side, be- 
 gan playing a rude chant, — in which the dancers joined, — 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 227 
 
 accompanied by the noise of sticks struck together. The 
 dancers were entirely naked, except that each had a sHght 
 girdle round the loins, a necklace of bears' claws, and a 
 tiara of feathers. Their bodies were painted allover, while 
 their leader had a horizontal line drawn across his face just 
 below the nose, the upper half of the face being daubed 
 with a white pigment, and the lower half with black, 
 through which his teeth gleamed like those of a wolf. 
 
 Then commenced the dance, which was so violent in its 
 character that the perspiration rolled off them in streams. 
 It was a commemoration of the dead, and as those who died 
 in battle were mentioned in succession, the leader went 
 through the representation of their deaths, throwing him- 
 self down on the ground and acting the last scene with 
 its struggles and exhaustion. Sometimes he assumed 
 the precise attitude of the antique statue, " the Dying 
 Gladiator." As the dance went on, they seemed to work 
 themselves up into an intense excitement, and would con- 
 tinue it, we were told, till morning. It was a wild 
 scene as the glare of the fire fell upon the dancers and a 
 thousand Indians gathered in a circle round them, and 
 when I looked around on our little party in this dense throng 
 of excited savages, I felt some apprehension as to what the 
 rising war spirit might lead to. I confess, I was somewhat 
 relieved when late at night the signal was made to disengage 
 ourselves from the crowd of Indians and get without the 
 camp, preparatory to our return. It was clear star-light 
 and there was something exhilarating in our ride, as for 
 about an hour we followed the guidance of the agent over 
 what seemed to us the pathless prairi.e 
 
 Can anything be done for the spiritual benefit of these 
 
228 THE EARL Y DA YS OF MY EPISCOPA TE. 
 
 Indians? It is difficult to tell, as they are so migratory in 
 their habits, seldom remaining together in large bodies for 
 any length of time. The old Padres succeeded with them 
 because there was no outside influence to oppose their 
 plans. There is every variety of Indian tribe in this 
 region, from the warlike Indians at the north and on the 
 borders of Mexico, down to the Digger Indians, who seem 
 to live a mere animal life. Still, the experiment might be 
 tried on one of the Northern Reservations, where a better 
 class of Indians is collected. Intellectually these Indians 
 seem to be exceedingly bright, and children taken into fam- 
 ilies as servants learn the English language with great 
 facility. 
 
 I copy the above paragraph from my journal kept at that 
 time. Several years have since passed, and no steps have 
 yet been taken to improve the condition of the Indians. 
 In fact, they are subjected to outrages from our wild fron- 
 tier settlers which must soon end in their extermination. 
 When, years hence, this narrative is first submitted to the eye 
 of a reader, I believe there will not be an Indian living 
 within the bounds of this State; but then, looking back 
 upon the time that has passed, and ^the tribes which have 
 melted like the snow-drift, leaving no trace behind, we fear 
 the record in regard to them will be, — " no man cared for 
 their souls." 
 
 Tuesday, Oct. 16th. We were up by daylight, and after 
 washing at a little stream near the house, had breakfast at 
 the agent's. After driving about six miles, we came to some 
 springs called " the sinks," where we found two men who 
 had camped during the night. This was the last water we 
 were to see for more than thirty miles, and here, too, we 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 229 
 
 took leave of all evidences of human life for the rest of the 
 day. Before us stretched a plain, scorched, dry, and ap- 
 parently boundless, without a tree formiles. At a distance, 
 during the earlier part of the day, we saw a lake, the 
 borders of which seemed lined with bands of antelopes. 
 The gentlemen estimated there must be at least a thousand. 
 Major Townsend and Mr. Calhoun rode off in pursuit of 
 some which came within a few miles of us, but the nature 
 of the ground allowing no concealment, they could not get 
 near enough for a shot at them. 
 
 By mid-day the sun was burning hot, and we had dragged 
 over wastes of sand till our animals drooped and we our- 
 selves were almost exhausted. At noon, we halted for a 
 few minutes to rest, though in the glare of the sun; and 
 without leaving the ambulance, took such lunch as our 
 stores afforded. Then on — on we toiled for the rest of the 
 day. We met but one person — a Mexican on horseback. 
 During the afternoon the ground became rolling, and as we 
 dragged up each knoll, we hoped to see some traces of the 
 promised river, but before us was only a new succession of 
 the same barren mounds. Our driver and the guide began 
 an animated discussion about the direction of the different 
 trails, and we feared that they had mistaken their way. At 
 length Major Townsend, riding forward to the crown of 
 one of the mounds, announced that he saw the river below. 
 We found that it was in a deep valley with a line of trees 
 through it, showing the presence of water. AVe left the 
 ambulance to let it drive down the precipitate bank, and 
 walked half a mile to tlie Kern River, having travelled 
 thirty-three miles without water. 
 
 Kern River is about one hundred feet broad, and at 
 
230 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 this season of tlie year from two to six feet deep, flowing 
 with a beautifully clear stream. On the bank we found a 
 canvas shanty belonging to a man who had settled himself 
 here and constructed a scow, with which, in the rainy sea- 
 son, when the river is high, he ferries over any chance pas- 
 sengers. He warned us to be on our guard, as the Mexi- 
 cans, having been driven out by the inhabitants some fifty 
 miles above, were dispersed over the country and had com- 
 mitted a number of murders. 
 
 "We crossed the river and encamped in a grove of cotton- 
 woods and willows, perfectly tired out. Never was the 
 sight of water so grateful to us, and we now could realize 
 the meaning of the Oriental description, — " a barren and 
 dry land, where no water is." A good bath in the river, 
 however, refreshed us, and after building our fire and hav- 
 ing supper, we spent a pleasant evening reclining on our 
 blankets about the burning logs. 
 
 Wednesday, Oct. 17th. We were awakened before dawn 
 by the howling of the coyotes about us, and, after a few hur- 
 ried mouthfuls, were off before six o'clock. Late at night 
 we had seen on the opposite side of the river a fire, showing 
 that some travellers had camped there. At daylight they 
 crossed, and we found they were two men from the Upper 
 Mines who were going on horseback to the Kern River mines. 
 On the plains they had taken the wrong trail and wandered 
 about all day, almost dying of exhaustion. As one of them ex- 
 pressed it — " starved to death for want of water." Provi- 
 dentially, late at night, they struck the Kern River. 
 
 After leaving the grove by the river, we entered at once 
 among the most desolate hills. Not a sign of herbage was 
 seen on them — not enough to attract a bee. We met with 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 231 
 
 no animal life through the whole morning, except a large 
 gray wolf which was stealing away between the hiUs. As 
 one of our party said, it was "Sahara in mountains." The 
 road (if such it could be called) was an old Indian trail 
 winding through the defiles between these barren hills, and 
 so little worn that most of the time we were obliged to 
 walk, to avoid the steep pitches. As the day advanced the 
 heat became almost suffocating, for the hills excluded all 
 air, while the reflection of the sun from their sandy sides 
 made an intolerable glare. 
 
 Our guide informed us that at noon we should reach a 
 camping ground where there was water. At that time we 
 saw indeed a line of green trees in one of the valleys, show- 
 ing a water course, but on reaching it, we found it almost 
 entirely dry. There were two springs near it, but they 
 were strongly impregnated with sulphur, so that we " could 
 not drink of the waters for they were bitter." We had to 
 content ourselves, therefore, with the hope of reaching 
 White River in the evening. We saw, however, numerous 
 places around where stakes had been driven into the ground 
 for picketing animals, showing that it had been frequently 
 used as a camping ground. 
 
 The journey of the afternoon was as oppressive as that of 
 the morning. We were constantly passing through deep 
 gulches and over hills where we had to get out and walk. 
 Often, when we had taken refuge behind some rock, against 
 the heat of the sun, did we realize the force of that Scrip- 
 ture imagery—" Like the shadow of a great rock in a 
 weary land!" Towards evening a large grizzly was seen 
 about a mile from us among the hills. Mr. Stanly and 
 Major Townsend, who were on horseback, together with 
 
232 TH^ EARL Y DA YS OF 31 Y E PIS CO PA TE, 
 
 Mr. Callioun (who mounted the guide's horse), went off 
 with their rifles to attack him, advancing from three jDoints 
 so as to distract his attention, as he would probably make a 
 rush at the first who fired. But the bear, perhaps alarmed by 
 seeing so many approaching, galloped over the hill and took 
 refuge in a ravine where he was lost to them. 
 
 At sunset, we saw at a distance in the valley, the line of 
 green trees which marked the course of White River. At 
 the sight, our exhausted animals seemed to toil on with new 
 vigor; but our disappointment cannot easily be described 
 when we found that it was entirely dry, nothing but a bed 
 of shining sand. We had travelled thirty-three miles, equal 
 to fifty-three miles of ordinary travel. We crossed on the 
 dry bed, and after ranging up and down the bank for some 
 miles, came to the canvas house of a squatter, near which 
 we camped, in a grove of oaks. He had dug a shallow 
 well, which was not a spring, but the water oozed up 
 through the earth, and was as muddy, therefore, as the 
 usual water of our gutters. We procured enough, however, 
 to make some tea, though there was none for our poor ani- 
 mals after their hot day's work, and after a hasty meal we 
 were soon asleep around our fire. 
 
 Thursday, Oct. IStli. We were stirring long before dawn, 
 and off as soon as it was light enough to harness, it being 
 necessary to push on a« fast as possible to find water. The 
 country was of the same character as yesterday, sandy and 
 desolate. When going up a hill, we discovered that one 
 of the hind wheels was just coming off. The lynch-pin was 
 gone, and we were detained while our guide rode back 
 Bome miles to look for it. His search, however, was vain, 
 and as a last resource he cut off the end of his hickory whip 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 233 
 
 and made one of wood, a poor substitute for the iron pin, 
 and needing constant watching. At about ten o'clock we 
 found a spring among the hills, surrounded b}^ a clump of 
 willows, where, by building a dam across the little trickling 
 stream, we procured enough for our breakfast and to re- 
 fresh our wearied animals. After leaving this spot we had 
 a striking view of the Great Tulare Yalley. It stretched a3 
 far as the horizon, one unbroken, scorched and yellow waste, 
 with what seemed a single thread of green running through 
 it, showing the course of Deep Creek. Yet as soon as the 
 dry season is over and the rains come, so that vegetation 
 revives, this view must present a perfect sea of green. 
 
 A few miles further on we met a wretched looking man trav- 
 eling on foot on his way to the mines. He seemed almost ex- 
 hausted. We relieved his wants as far as we could, by 
 giving him something to eat and drink, and directed him 
 where he could find the spring we had left. He is one of 
 the many who, in traversing these wastes alone, sink down 
 and die. Their remains are not seen bv any traveller for 
 months; and their friends at home neve^know the manner 
 of their end. 
 
 Two hours after this we met the sheriff with his posse, 
 who informed us he had been breaking up a band of rob- 
 bers, some of whom had been taken, while others were still 
 lurking in the thickets on Tulare Eiver, where we expected 
 to encamp. 
 
 At noon we reached Three Creeks, but found it dry. A 
 squatter by the river had, however, dug some pits, from 
 which we procured a small supply of water. We passed 
 through the same kind of country till the middle of the 
 afternoon, when we saw at a disfancc the trees on the banks 
 
234 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 of Tulare Eiver. We crossed and camped in a grove of 
 oaks. Just afterwards, the Fort Miller ambulance whicli 
 had been despatched to meet us, drove up ; but as it was 
 small, (they only expected Major Townsend and myself,) 
 the Major determined to keep the Fort Tejon wagon to 
 Fort Miller, and to use the last arrival to carry our baggage. 
 
 After a refreshing bath in the beautiful clear water of the 
 river, we had a visit from a settler who had stationed him- 
 self near our camping ground. As the officers were accus- 
 tomed to go back and forth by this trail, he had formed an 
 acquaintance with many of them, and now came to ask us 
 to tea at his cabin. We were most happy to accept his in- 
 vitation and shall long remember the hospitality of these 
 good people. Their cabin was but a single room, with 
 beds in the corners, but they gave us a capital tea, at which 
 they presided with a dignity not often seen in " the States." 
 We spent an hour after tea with our host, during which 
 time he entertained us with accounts of his manner of life 
 in this secluded spot, with adventures in the wilderness, 
 and stories of grizzlies attacking parties in the thickets by 
 the river where we had camped. That night we were a 
 little more careful than usual in keeping our fire replenished. 
 
 Friday^ Oct. 19th. On our way by daybreak. I awoke 
 with a feeling of illness which increased during our drive 
 of nineteen miles over a scorched plain. We at length en- 
 tered an oak forest of the most splendid trees, having in it, 
 here and there, small settlements of Indians who were 
 busily engaged in collecting their winter store of acorns. 
 After going through this for nine miles we came to a stream 
 called " Four Creeks/' which we crossed, and camped be- 
 yond among the oaks. It was but little past noon, but the 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 235 
 
 next water being eighteen miles away, it was too far for our 
 mules to go that day. The woods here seemed to be swarm- 
 ing with Indians, so that we were obliged to keep a strict 
 watch on our wagon. 
 
 My illness having increased, I lay down on the hard 
 boards of the wagon, where I remained till sundown, won- 
 dering, in case I was to be really ill, what I should do — 
 two days' journey from any physician or settlement. Tow- 
 ards evening, feeling better, probably from rest and absti- 
 nence, I crossed the river to a shell of a house which a 
 squatter had erected on the opposite side, where we got 
 some tea. The woman who prepared it for us was suffer- 
 ing from fever and ague, which is common on all these 
 river bottoms. Her wretched appearance did not make 
 the prospect of our night's rest in the open air very 
 agreeable. 
 
 Saturday, Oct. 19. We were up before light, and drove 
 about nine miles through the oaks to a solitary house where 
 we breakfasted. The house consisted of but one room, 
 three of its corners occupied by beds. The next eighteen 
 miles were over the hot plains, — then about seven miles 
 through the forests again, crossing several dry river beds 
 filled with cobble-stones, till late in the afternoon we reached 
 King's Eiver, a bright stream about two hundred feet wide. 
 We forded it and found on the opposite side a beautiful 
 plateau covered with oaks. Two teamsters who had camped 
 there with their mules, told us they were obliged to cross 
 the plains we had been over, in the night, to avoid the ex- 
 cessive heat. There were large bodies of Indians on the 
 banks, whom we visited after our camping was arranged. 
 They were living in the open air, without even any lodges, 
 
236 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 and employed themselves in fishicg and hunting, being ex« 
 ceedingly skillful with the bow and arrow. 
 
 Being out of provisions, we purchased some fish of the 
 Indians, while Major Townsend and our guide forded the 
 river on their horses, and riding up some distance came to 
 a settler's shanty, where they bought some chickens and 
 eggs. Fallen trees furnished us an abundant supply of fuel 
 for our cooking and for fires through the night. 
 
 We had expected to have reached Fort Miller this even- 
 ing, but found ourselves thirty miles distant. We had lost 
 time, owing to the necessity of arranging our journey each 
 day with regard to the supply of water. Stay where we 
 ^vere, however, over Sunday, we could not. We had no 
 provisions, and the air was so malarious, that we found the 
 Indians about us, though born on the spot, rapidly de- 
 creasing in numbers through the effects of the fever and 
 ague. Nothing remained for us, therefore, but to push on 
 next morning and reach Fort Miller as early as possible, 
 that at least a portion of the day might be devoted to its 
 proper object. 
 
 Sunday, Oct. 21st. We were up this morning by four 
 o'clock, long before the faintest streak of dawn appeared in 
 the east. After a hasty breakfast of sea biscuit and hard 
 boiled eggs, we set off while it was so dark that we could 
 not see the trail through the open woods, but were obliged 
 for some miles to trust to the sagacity of the mules, leaving 
 them to walk and find the path for themselves. After a few 
 miles we emerged from the oak openings, when the rest of 
 our way was, as usual, over the dusty, scorched plains. Be- 
 tween ten and eleven o'clock, we reached the hills overlook- 
 ing Fort Miller; but missing the road, we had to dismount, 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 237 
 
 while tlie heavy imbalance went plunging down the side of 
 the hill. We passed through the little town of Millerton 
 on the San Joaquin River, about half a mile from the Fort. 
 It was composed of some twenty houses, most of them of 
 canvas, two or three being shops, and the majority of the 
 rest drinking saloons and billiard rooms. The population 
 was Mexican or the lowest class of whites, and on this day 
 they seemed to be given up entirely to dissipation. 
 
 As the formidable cavalcade of two ambulances, three 
 horsemen, and a party on foot, wound round the hills 
 towards the post, the officers, (as we afterwards learned,) 
 turned out with their glasses to see who could be coming, 
 as they had only expected Major Townsend and myself. The 
 post is situated on a plateau overlooking the town and 
 river. There are only about seventy men of the Third Ar- 
 tillery stationed here. The officers met us as we arrived, 
 and we had a warm welcome. Major Townsend went with 
 Lieut. Loeser and the rest of us to Dr. Murray's quarters. 
 
 The service of our Church had never been held here, nor, 
 when Sunday came, had there been anything to mark the 
 day. Arrangements were soon made, after our arrival, for 
 service in the evening, and a broad hall in one of the build- 
 ings devoted to the officers was cleared for that purpose. 
 The officers with their families, and many of the soldiers at- 
 tended, and after the Second Lesson I baptized the child 
 of one of the privates. A beginning having thus been made, 
 before I left the post, I licensed Dr. Murray, the surgeon, 
 a communicant of the Church, to act as lay reader, and ar- 
 rangements were made for having the service every Sunday. 
 We remained at the post for two days, resting from the 
 fatigue of our journey and enjoying the open hospitality of 
 
238 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 the officers. Of these two days there is little to tell. On 
 Monday, Major Townsend had his inspection of the troops 
 and visited all the buildings of the post. We dined and 
 took tea with the officers, rode, and passed our time quite 
 pleasantly. Tuesday, the Major had a grand pow-wow with 
 the tribe of Digger Indians near the post, and presented 
 their head man with a gay flannel shirt, with which he 
 was hugely delighted, — thus, as the Major expressed it, — 
 " transforming the Indian Chief into a red shirt miner." 
 As he was obliged to wait till the end of the week and then 
 to stop at the Indian Reservation on his way down, we de- 
 termined to leave him, and to return in the little stage which 
 runs from this place to Snelling's. It had made but two 
 trips, and before it commenced to run, travellers were 
 obliged to pass those seventy miles on horseback. When we 
 reach SnelHng's, we are in the region of the regular stage 
 routes. 
 
 Wednesday, Oct. 24th. Long before daylight, we were up 
 and our little stage with two horses was ready. After tak- 
 ing leave of our kind entertainers, we commenced our jour- 
 ney on the banks of the San Joaquin. At about nine o'clock 
 we stopped at a solitary house intended for teamsters, where, 
 for one dollar each, we had a breakfast; but everything was 
 so filthy that we could hardly eat even after our long morn- 
 ing ride. The drive, for the whole day — was over the same 
 kind of country as during the preceding week — desolate 
 plains varied with an occasional hill and river, and then a 
 cattle ranch. At noon we reached a place similar to the 
 one at which we had breakfasted, where they wished us to 
 dine, but we declined, and preferred waiting till we reached 
 Snelling's at evening. 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 239 
 
 Aa we stopped at a solitary ranch to change horses, the 
 owner got in and went on with us. I had noticed two very 
 fine looking young Indians, about eighteen years of age, 
 standing before the door, and remarked to him that they 
 were the best specimens of Indians I had seen. 
 
 " Yes," said he, ''I was offered twelve hundred dollars for 
 one of those boys." 
 
 '* But how," I asked, " could you sell him ? " 
 
 "Why, just as I could anything else — my horse or my 
 cow. I got him some years ago and trained him up. He's 
 mine." 
 
 " But suppose," I continued, " he should leave you and 
 refuse to work any more. " 
 
 " Then, I should do just as I have done before, — catch 
 him and put him right down to his work." 
 
 "If you were nearer San Francisco," remarked Mr. Stanly, 
 ** there might be such a thing as a habeas corpus, to find out 
 what you were doing with these Indians." 
 
 " That might do, sir, in San Francisco, but let me tell 
 you that here in the mountains, might makes right." 
 
 The next topic was the story of a gambler who came and 
 "squatted" on his ranch to levy blackmail on him and 
 his brother. After narrating his grievances and annoy- 
 ances, Mr. Stanly asked — 
 
 " What became of him ? " 
 
 " Oh, my brother shot him with a derringer. The ball 
 went in here," (touching one temple,) " and came out here," 
 (touching the other temple). And all this was said just as 
 coolly as if he were describing the shooting of a coyote. 
 
 Then came a description of the killing ol Joaquin, a noted 
 bandit, for whose head the government had offered a re- 
 
249 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 ward of five hundred dollars. Our travelling companion 
 was one of the party which hunted him down, and he de- 
 scribed the whole affair with great gusto, as if it had been 
 a most agreeable sporting expedition ) which, in fact, it was 
 to him. 
 
 I have given these conversations to illustrate the char- 
 acter of the men, wild and lawless, generally from the fron- 
 tier of the West, who have formed so much of the emigra- 
 tion to this country. 
 
 Just before dark we reached Snelling's, a small settlement 
 with fine trees about it. The hotel here is large and seemed 
 full, this being a central point from which stages go up 
 through Mariposa County. There is probably no place in 
 California which collects so many outlaws as this tavern, or 
 which is so marked for deeds of bloodshed. After supper we 
 retired early to prepare for our last day's travel. 
 
 TJiursday, Oct. 25th. Off in the stage by bright moonlight, 
 which fortunately lasted till daylight. We had six passen- 
 gers, including a Chinaman. After fording the Stanislaus 
 Biver, we ate breakfast at a tavern on the bank. The coun- 
 try we passed through is much richer and more thickly set- 
 tled. Oak trees are scattered park-like through it, and we 
 passed cultivated farms, increasing in frequency as we 
 approached Stockton. We reached there at four in the 
 afternoon, just in time for the boat. Here, for the first 
 time in several days, we had an opportunity to dress, and 
 the next morning awoke at the wharf in San Francisco, after 
 having been absent about a month. 
 
 Thanks to kind Providence, we reached home without a 
 single accident. I believe but one of our party suffered 
 any ill effects from the journey. More than a year after- 
 
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 241 
 
 wards, Mr. Calhoun told me that he had not recovered 
 from the effects of the cold and chills which resulted from 
 his camping out. I was able to accomplish all that I de- 
 signed. I learned the state of things at Los Angeles, and 
 the nature of the country in the eastern half of the State. 
 It is a section which evidently cannot be settled for many 
 years, and I shall probably, therefore, never again be 
 obliged to travel the route we did on this occasion. 
 
XXII. 
 
 RUKAL PAEISHES. 
 
 There are several places in California, where the Church 
 has been founded, the story of each of which is short, and 
 yet the annals of this diocese would not be complete if it 
 were omitted. I shall group them together therefore in a 
 single chapter, taking them in succession. 
 
 At the close of my first year's residence here — in 1854 — 
 I received an urgent appeal from a young man at Coloma, 
 to pay it a visit. He described it as a thriving town — the 
 county seat — and yet, without any place of religious wor- 
 ship. I determined therefore in the following month to 
 go there. 
 
 January 21st, 1855, I was officiating at Marysville, where 
 Mr. Hager had recently begun his labors. The following 
 day, Monday, I left Marysville, to i eturn to Sacramento, in 
 the little, high pressure steamer. Pearl. Another steamer 
 started at the same time, so that we raced down at the top 
 of our speed, reaching Sacramento at two p. m. Five morn- 
 ings afterwards, the Pearl, in repeating the race, was blown 
 to pieces, every officer and about seventy passengers killed, 
 leaving only twelve unwounded out of one hundred and 
 twenty-two individuals who were known to be on board. 
 242 
 
RURAL PARISHES. 243 
 
 On Tuesday, I took the stage at daylight for Coloma in 
 the mountains of El Dorado County. It was a long and 
 wearisome ride. The distance is about fifty-five miles, but 
 it was the rainy season — the roads had been cut up — and 
 there were occasional showers through the day. After 
 about twenty miles, the road turns aside into the mountain 
 mining district. We passed through several little mining 
 settlements, such as Negro Hill, and Mormon Island; and in 
 the gulches and ravines saw the miners, by twos and threes, at 
 their hard tasks. The country, too, is traversed in various 
 directions, by ditches and flumes constructed to carry water 
 to the " diggings." We reached our destination at about 
 four in the afternoon, where my correspondent met me; and 
 I found a place had been provided for me at the hotel. 
 
 The town proper of Ooloma contains only between six 
 and seven hundred inhabitants, but a numerous mining 
 population is scattered around it. Although ranked among 
 the mining towns it has beautiful gardens which are famous 
 for their fruit, and extensive vineyards are being planted in 
 the vicinity. 
 
 It is a beautifully situated place, surrounded by high 
 mountains on which the lights and shadows play; and the 
 effects, particularly at sunset, are sometimes exceedingly 
 fine. Through the mountains, flows a little stream, on which 
 is a mill that has become historical as the spot where gold 
 was first discovered in California. Some men were digging 
 a mill race for General Sutter, when their attention was at- 
 tracted by the glittering ore. This led to further explora- 
 tions, the riches of California were disclosed, and as soon 
 as the news reached the world, the rush of immigration 
 began. While here, I saw the first piece of gold that was 
 
2i4 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 discovered, which is still in the possession of the wife of the 
 finder. They are poor 23eo23le; and the State of California 
 should procure the specimen, which may have in it about 
 live dollars worth of gold, and place it in security with the 
 archives of the State. 
 
 In the evening- I met some members of the Church who 
 were arranging a choir for their first service. Wednesday 
 was spent with Mr. Searle in visiting all those in the town 
 whose tendencies were in favor of the Church. In the 
 evening, the Court House was crowded, and I held service 
 and preached, baptizing an infant after the Second Lesson. 
 The next day I returned to Sacramento, reaching there in 
 time for the noon boat for San Francisco. 
 
 I found, as they had told me, there was not a religious 
 service of any denomination held in Coloma. Now and 
 then, some wandering Methodists came, but they were gen- 
 erally so illiterate that the congregation could not listen to 
 them with patience. While I was there measures were 
 taken to erect a Church — a subscription was commenced — 
 and they soon after wrote me, that a plan had been adopted 
 and the building commenced. 
 
 During the following Ma}^ I once more visited Coloma, 
 arriving there on the evening of the 11th. The first object 
 which greeted my sight as we entered the town, was the 
 little Church which had been built since my last visit. 
 
 On the next day — Saturday — I drove over to Placerville, 
 eleven miles distant, in company with Judge Eobinson of 
 Coloma, who kindly volunteered to be my guide. My ob- 
 ject was to inquire into the feasibility of establishing the 
 Church in that place, and if possible, to become acquainted 
 with some of those who were Churchmen at home. While 
 
RURAL PARISHES. 245 
 
 there I met a State Senator whom I Imew, and upon inquir- 
 ing with regard to several persons, as to whether or not 
 they were Churchmen, he at last gave me in a single sen- 
 tence the Californian practice on this subject: '* I don't 
 know," said the honorable gentleman — (poor man ! the next 
 year he was in his grave) — " when a stranger comes here, 
 we inquire into his political creed and financial ability, but 
 never ask any questions about bis religious belief." 
 
 Sunday, May 13th. The Court House was well filled for 
 our services both morning and evening, when I read service 
 and preached. 
 
 I remained over the next day for the purpose of visiting 
 the different members of the Churchj and to give some advice 
 with regard to the interior and chancel arrangements of 
 the new building. 
 
 During the following January, 1856, the Eev. James W. 
 Capen arrived and entered on his duties as Eector. The 
 health of his wife, however, in a few months, obliged him to 
 remove to Oakland for sea air. Then the Eev. D. F. Mac- 
 donald came, who remained for more than a year. During 
 their residence I visited the parish several times, and on one 
 Sunday evening officiated at Placerville in the Presbyterian 
 house of worship, which was crowded. About this time, 
 however, Coloma began to decline. The " diggings " in the 
 neighborhood proved less rich, and the removal of the 
 county seat to Placerville took away some of the best peo- 
 ple. Mr. Macdonald went to Stockton; and while I write 
 tliis the church is without a pastor. If possible, I will send 
 some one to Placerville, who will hold occasional services 
 at Coloma. 
 
 Oakland is another rural parish. It is situated directly 
 
246 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE, 
 
 across the bay from San Francisco, and is the residence of 
 many who are engaged in business in the city. My first 
 visit was on Wednesday, Nov. 15th, 1854. I went over in 
 the afternoon, expecting to hold a service in the evening; 
 but owing to some mistake, notice had not been given, as was 
 expected. I therefore spent the eveningwith Mr. Compton, 
 an Enghsh gentleman residing there; and did what I could 
 by personal conference with the members of the Church to 
 induce them to begin its services among them. 
 
 The result was, that a commodious room was arranged 
 for service, with altar, chancel, pulpit, vestry-room, etc. I 
 spent Sunday, Dec. 17th there, and held the first service, 
 reading prayers and preachiug, morning and afternoon. 
 Then, Rev. Mr. S^'le, who had gone to China as a mission- 
 ary, but being unable to accomplish anything there had 
 settled down in Oakland, took the parish. In a few months, 
 however, it died on his hands and he returned to China. 
 Then Mr. Capen removed thither from Coloma on account 
 of his wife's health. In a few months, however, he re- 
 turned to the East, Then the room used for a chapel 
 was burned down, and for two years nothing further was 
 done. 
 
 Then Rev. Benj. Akerly entered on his duties as mission- 
 ary, and by his untiring energy the congregation was col- 
 lected and the present Church erected, which was conse- 
 crated March, 1860. 
 
 Among my most pleasant recollections is that of my first 
 service at Petaluma. Mr. Wickersham, one of the congre- 
 gation, had called on me, and I made an appointment 
 for Tuesday, March 10th, 1857. I found Petaluma, a flourish- 
 ing town which had sprung up in the last two years, and as 
 
RURAL PARISHES. 247 
 
 it is at the outlet of some of the richest valleys in the 
 State, the prosperity is likely to continue. 
 
 It was a soft and beautiful moonlight night. In ac- 
 cordance with notice given, I had Evening Service and 
 preached in the Methodist house of worship, which had 
 been offered for our use. The building was crowded, very 
 many not being able to obtain admission. Immediately 
 after service I baptized two children, and the next day re- 
 turned to San Francisco. 
 
 Napa is a similar agricultural community. My first visit 
 there was on July 31, 1858. I officiated in the morning in 
 the Presbyterian house of worship, and again in the even- 
 ing in the Methodist meeting house. These were our first 
 services in Napa. 
 
XXIII. 
 
 RETURN. 
 
 With this chapter I conclude the history of roy early la- 
 bors in this Diocese. On April 20th, 1857, I returned to 
 the Atlantic States, with my family. Our voyage down 
 the coast was in the Golden Age, over an unrippled sea, and 
 with every attending circumstance to make it pleasant. On 
 the other side, our steamer was the Central America, Capt. 
 Herndon, XJ. S. N. Some three months after, on her re- 
 turn voyage, she went down with three hundred passengers 
 on board, including the gallant Herndon. 
 
 During this summer my election as Diocesan was rati- 
 fied by the Bishops and Standing Committees; and in the 
 autumn I prepared to return to California. It was not, 
 however, until November 20th that I was able to set out. 
 Of my own family, I had only my wife with me. My eldest 
 son Lawrence, (a Lieutenant in the Third Artillery,) I left 
 stationed at Governor's Island, and my other son, Willie, 
 was a student at Yale College. I had, however, the wife and 
 daughters of the Hon. William Duer under my charge. 
 
 A more disagreeable voyage than this proved to be, is sel- 
 dom made. I copy the record of it from my letter to Rev. 
 Dr. Van Kleeck, as published in the Spirit of Missions. 
 243 
 
RETURN. 249 
 
 I. 
 
 My dear Brother: It was with no pleasant feelings that I 
 parted from you, as well as my other friends, on the deck 
 of the Star of the West, on the 20th of November. It seemed 
 as if the pain of leaving was even greater than it was four 
 years since j and yet, I know not why it should have been 
 so, for then I was going to a strange land, " not knowing 
 the things which should befall me there ; " but at this time 
 I was only returning to my new home, where I knew many 
 earnest friends were j)repared to welcome me. 
 
 Shall I give you an account of our voyage ? It has little 
 of adventure, but it may be interesting to some of your 
 readers, who have friends in this land, merely as showing 
 what a voyage to California sometimes is. 
 
 Friday, Nov. 20th. If was at three p. m that we cast loose 
 from the wharf — our signal gun was fired — the cheers of 
 the crowd, watching our departure, were given, and soon 
 we could see no longer even the waving handkerchiefs of 
 those who, with tearful eyes, were thus striving to keep, 
 to the last moment, their connection with some whom they 
 should not see again for years. 
 
 It was evident enough, before we cleared the Narrows, 
 that our steamer was crowded to excess and greatly over- 
 loaded. She is but eleven hundred burthen, (little more 
 than one third that of the steamer which is to receive .us on 
 the Pacific,) and carries probabl}' more than a thousand 
 passengers. The officers acknowledge seven hundred and 
 sixty passengers, while she might comfortably accommodate 
 half that number. The first night out of New York, in win- 
 ter, is always dismal. The severe cold — the single stove in 
 
250 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 he cabin, blocked up by hundreds trying to reach it — and 
 the desolate air of everything, to those who have come 
 from comfortable homes — effectually remove all the po- 
 etry from " life on the mountain wave." To add to our dis- 
 comforts, a gale began before midnight, a most unfortunate 
 time of the voyage, as most of the passengers had not yet 
 settled into their places or become accustomed to the sea. 
 It was with many of them a night long to be remembered. 
 
 Saturday, 21st. Unable to leave our berths, we passed 
 the day in half-unconscious, dreamy misery. The rough 
 weather continued, and the only thing of which we were 
 thoroughly sensible was the steady pitch — pitch — of our 
 vessel. 
 
 To gain places for more passengers, two rows of state- 
 rooms have been built on the deck of the Star of the West — 
 the only steamer in which I have sailed on the Atlantic 
 which has such upper works. The San Francisco was built 
 in this way, and during the storm in which she was wrecked, 
 this upper cabin was swept entirely clear from the deck, 
 with almost every passenger it contained. Our state-room 
 was selected in this place for the sake of air, in anticipation 
 of tropic heat — but in this rough weather a deck state-room 
 is tht3 least desirable location on the steamer. Our own 
 room, too, happens to be the one nearest the stern, where, of 
 course, the motion of the vessel is more felt than in any other 
 part. In the evening we had a renewal of the gale, fol- 
 lowed by another night of sickness and discomfort. 
 
 Sunday, 22nd. No Sabbath-day of rest and quiet j but 
 our vessel still pitching, we remained in our berths through 
 the morning. At noon, I was up for the first time since 
 we left New York, and managed to get Mrs. Kip to the 
 
RETURN. 251 
 
 Captain's state-room, midships, where tne motion is less felt. 
 There she lay on the sofa through the clay, while we thought 
 and talked of those who were in peace at home, and whose 
 prayers we knew at that hour were ascending, that we 
 might safely reach "the haven where we would be." 
 
 At night, a renewal of the gale. We have in our state- 
 room not only more motion than in any other part of the 
 ship, but we hear more of the force of the waves. Below us, 
 at the stern, the parted waters meet again, and seethe and 
 dash together, and we cannot escape the ceaseless sound. 
 Every few moments a wave would strike the bows, and our 
 vessel would seem to stop as though a giant had struck 
 her, and quiver for a moment in every plank, and then 
 again dart forward on her way. As our upper cabin creaked, 
 and seemed to sway in the wind as we rolled, the fears 
 of my wife reached their height, and most earnest were 
 her entreaties to me to take her down into the lower cabin. 
 Knowing, however, that it was perfectly suffocating there, 
 where every table and seat, and even the floor, had its 
 occupants, I was obliged to insist on our running the risk 
 of the upper cabin. 
 
 In the night we were opposite Cape Hatteras, and prob- 
 ably near the spot where the ill-fated Central America went 
 down. The thought recalled melancholy remembrances of 
 pleasant hours with Herndon and Van Rensselaer, when I 
 went home in her in the early summer. Now, the Gulf 
 Stream, over which we are passing, is sweeping on her 
 wreck to where it pours its treasures into the Arctic Seas. 
 
 Monday, 23rd. Sea still high. We have lately been mak- 
 ing, against this head wind and sea, but one hundred and 
 fifty miles in twenty-four hours. Our steamer, though 
 
252 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 naturally a good sea boat, labors terribly, and shows how 
 she has been overloaded, with the most culpable reckless- 
 ness of life. Were any accident to happen to our machin- 
 ery, with this dense mass of human beings on board, it 
 would jorobably involve the loss of all ; for she has not boats 
 for one fifth of the passengers. 
 
 When able to leave our berths we took refuge in the 
 Captain's room, where we remained till late in the evening. 
 The other ladies under my charge I have not seen for two 
 days. They are in the dining room cabin, where I have 
 not dared to venture ; and I suppose, like myself, they are 
 Jiors du combat 
 
 The night was the worst we have yet had; not only very 
 rough, and with a strong head sea striking our bows, but 
 at midnight a rain storm commenced, and it poured in tor- 
 rents. In the last few days and nights the crowded steer- 
 age passengers must have suffered terribly. "We have been 
 frequently shipping seas, from which it was impossible to 
 protect those forward. 
 
 Tuesday, 24th. Day dawned with a dull leaden sky, the 
 horizon in mist, the sea running high, and every prospect 
 of bad weather. I found, however, that the barometer was 
 rising, and at ten it commenced clearing. The sunshine 
 drieci our decks, and though the sea is still heavy and we 
 are making little progress, everything wears a more cheerful 
 aspect. 
 
 During the next few days, though never calm, it was suffi- 
 ciently smooth to bring out the passengers, some of whom 
 had not been seen since we left New York. We have the 
 strange medley to be seen nowhere but in a California 
 steamer — army and navy officers j Spaniards, Mexicans, 
 
RETURN. 253 
 
 Costa Kicans, (whom Walker had dislodged,, returning 
 home; ladies going to join their husbands in California ; 
 two Presbyterian missionaries returning to the Sandwich 
 Islands ; six Sisters of Charity; and over one hundred 
 children. We have the usual developments of evil, which 
 mark those who have broken away from the restraints 
 of home, and who, by their conduct, falsify the old maxim 
 — *' Coelum, non animum mutanty qui trans mare current'* 
 But there are also the good and true — who are to be the 
 leaven of all that is pure in that distant land, and whose 
 prayers are the incense which rises up before the Throne of 
 the Highest. Some of them are members of our Church, 
 and when Sunday comes, they welcome the services which 
 remind them of holy scenes at home. 
 
 Among our passengers is the celebrated German travel- 
 ler, Wagner, who, twenty years ago, won a world-wide rep- 
 utation by his explorations in Africa and afterwards in the 
 East. He is now sent out by the King of Bavaria as head 
 of an exploring party, to spend a couple of years in 
 examining the Equatorial Kegions of South America, on 
 the western coast. They go from the Isthmus to Peru. 
 With him is a distinguished artist, and also a German Bar- 
 oness who has joined the party to pursue certain botanical 
 researches. On her card, which she gave me, her name is 
 Z,a Baronne de Hermayr Hortenhurg, nee Baronne de Sternhurg. 
 She was perfectly familiar with the cities of Southern Eu- 
 rope, and it was a pleasant relief, in this distant sea, thus 
 to revive my recollections of the galleries of Italy. 
 
 26th. In the evening made our first land, the light on 
 Salt Keys, one hundred and twenty-three miles from Ha- 
 vanna. 
 
254 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 27th. At eight a. m. when I came on deck, found we were 
 coasting along the shores of Cuba. The " Gem of the An- 
 tilles" was before us, and in the distance was seen Moro 
 Castle, at the entrance of the harbor of Havana. In an hour 
 more we had come to anchor. A narrow passage, strongly 
 fortified on both sides, is the only entrance. 
 
 We were soon surrounded by boats from the city, and after 
 the proper officials had made their visit, were permitted to 
 go on shore. The first thing at landing was to go to an 
 officer on the wharf, where passports were furnished us, for 
 which we paid one dollar each. We walked up to the pub- 
 lic square on which the palace fronts. It is filled with trop- 
 ical trees — the palm, the cocoa, and the banana — presenting 
 a strangely beautiful view to one from a colder clime. 
 Soldiers meet us at every turn, and it is said that thirty- 
 thousand can be collected in this city in a few hours. The 
 streets are narrow, to secure shade and coolness, and the 
 high, substantial houses and shops remind one of cities in 
 the South of Europe. Ladies, in their light summer dresses 
 with the rd>ozo over their heads, were shopping; but in all 
 cases remained in their carriage, and the goods were 
 brought out to them by the clerks. 
 
 The usual vehicle is the vdlante, a kind of gig holding two, 
 with very long shafts, so that the horse is at a distance from 
 the carriage, and is ridden by the driver postilion fashion. 
 We hired several of these for our party, and set off to see 
 the city and its environs. Driving through the large open 
 square where the fashion of Havana assembles in the cool 
 of the evening, and through the parade ground, we reached 
 the open country beyond. In every part of the city are 
 marble fountains, generally surmounted by a statue of one of 
 
RETURN. 255 
 
 the royal family of Spain. Beyond the city, we passed through 
 long lines of elegant villas. Most of them are built low, 
 painted with gay colors, a species of China tiling being 
 much used. The house is buried in tropical foliage, and 
 the avenue which leads to it is entirely overarched with the 
 meeting boughs. 
 
 We drove oat to a deserted villa, about four miles from 
 the city. We heard that it had been for years in chancery, 
 and had thus been suffered to fall to decay. The house 
 itself was rapidly crumbling to pieces, its frescoes peeling 
 off, and its gay colors fading. Around it, stretched long 
 walks, lined with statues, now mutilated, but showing that 
 it had once possessed every convenience for comfort and 
 pleasure. We saw the out-houses, where the proprietor 
 must once have kept an extensive aviary and zoological collec- 
 tion. All the departments were untenanted but one, through 
 which a stream of water flowed, where a solitary alligator 
 was yet imprisoned. The air was like June, and as we 
 walked around the grounds, we saw on every side evidence 
 of the luxury of this climate. 
 
 We returned to the city by a different road, affording 
 similar scenes. Our next visit was to the Cathedral, a fine, 
 extensive building, the exterior presenting a venerable ap- 
 pearance, and the chancel within being rich with varied 
 marbles. Beneath this was buried the remains of Colum- 
 bus — " the worthy and adventurous general of the seas " — 
 as the old Spanish chronicles call him. He died at Valla- 
 dolid, in 1506, and in 1536 his remains were transported to 
 St. Domingo, that he might rest in the new world which he 
 had discovered. When that island was ceded to France in 
 1796, they were once more removed and interred in the 
 
256 '^HE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 Cathedral of Havana, that they might be in Spanish soil. 
 They were brought with great parade on the man-of-war 
 called the Discoverer, the full account of which is given in 
 the appendix to his life by Irving. 
 
 Against the wall, on one side of the chancel, is the mon- 
 ument, the upper part of which contains the portrait of 
 Columbus, in bold relief, while on the lower part, sur- 
 rounded by nautical instruments, is the Spanish inscription, 
 of which this is the translation : 
 
 Oh, remains and image of the great Columbus ! 
 May ye last a thousand ages, preserved in the urn 
 And in the remembrance of our nation ' 
 
 It was blowing very fresh when we left the wharf in a 
 little sail-boat manned by native boatmeD. It danced over 
 the waves, to the great terror of the ladies, and it required a 
 series of tacks to bring us up to the steamer. At three o'clock 
 we were again under way, having taken in about seventy 
 passengers, who came from New Orleans. 
 
 28th. Another rough da3^ We had, too, this morning, 
 an alarm of the most fearful kind that can occur at sea. 
 We were just leaving the breakfast table, when below in 
 the second cabin there was a rush, and the shriek of women, 
 and the cry of fire. It took but a few steps to bring the 
 Captain to the spot. One of the women, in a room below 
 containing three berths on each side with a narrow passage 
 between them, had undertaken to cook with an alcohol 
 lamp. After lighting it, she left the room, when a roU of 
 the ship upset it, and in an instant the burning alcohol was 
 all over the floor. The children shrieked, when a man in 
 
RETURN. 257 
 
 the cabin rushed in, and providentially, had presence 
 of mind enough to tear off the bedding and commence 
 smothering the flames. This he had partially succeeded 
 in doing, when the Captain came to his aid. In an instant 
 more the flames would have been beyond all human con- 
 trol, and in this crowded vessel, out of sight of land, 
 with not boats enough for one-fifth of the passengers, 
 there would have been but few left to tell the story of our 
 fate. 
 
 Sunday, 29th. The sea too rough, and I myself too ill to 
 attempt the service in the morning. In the afternoon, the 
 weather being more pleasant, arrangements were made 
 upon deck, and the greater part of the cabin passengers 
 were present. I read the service and preached a brief 
 sermon. 
 
 We are now beginning to have a new firmament about 
 us. The old familiar constellations which shine upon our 
 own land have some of them sunk below the horizon, and 
 in place of them we have the Southern Cross. 
 
 30th. The sea smooth, but we have the excessive heat 
 of the tropics. For some days there has been a whispered 
 report of sickness aboard. It has gradually deepened into 
 certainty, and to-day the officers acknowledged that yellow 
 fever is prevailing. It is fearful to be crowded together 
 thus, in this stifling heat, with an infectious disease grad- 
 ually increasing, and no way of escape. 
 
 Tuesday, Dec. 1st. To-day the deaths began. The 
 steamer has been stopped three times in seven hours to 
 enable me to read the Burial Service. In the morning, a 
 man died, — at noon, his daughter, — and in the afternoon, 
 
258 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 a young man, a cabin passenger. There is something inex- 
 pressibly solemn in a burial at sea. The body, swathed in 
 canvas, like a mummy, and covered with the American flag, 
 with a heavy weight at its feet, is placed upon a board at 
 the gangway. As I begin the service, the wheels of the 
 steamer gradually grow slower, until they stop for an in- 
 stant, when I reach the words — "We commit his body to 
 the deep." As I utter this sentence, the flag is withdrawn, 
 the board is tilted up, the body glides down into the sea, 
 and our vessel once more quickens its speed, leaving the 
 waves of the Caribbean Sea to sweep over him who was 
 lately our fellow passenger. 
 
 To show the crowded state of the steamer and the impos- 
 sibility of separating the sick and dying from the well, I 
 will mention one fact. There was but one saloon, out of 
 which the state-rooms opened (except the few on deck), and 
 where we were obliged to take our meals. On the cushions 
 of this saloon, during the last few daj^s, two ladies, a mother 
 and daughter, have been dying of the black vomit, in full 
 sight of our dinner table. The mother died as we entered 
 Aspinwall, and the daughter, it was known, could not sur- 
 vive till night. 
 
 This night many of the passengers passed on deck, rather 
 than risk the pestilential air of the cabin. 
 
 Wednesday, Dec. 2nd. Near Aspinwall; and well for us 
 it is so. A few days' longer crowding together, would have 
 infected half our passengers. We heard another death re- 
 ported early in the morning, and with great thankfulness 
 took our last breakfast on this vessel. But never can we 
 forget that Capt. Gray has done everything in the power of 
 man under these difficult circumstances. He has been un- 
 
RETURN. 259 
 
 tiring as a navigator and in his attentions to his passengers. 
 He is worthy of a better vessel, and we took leave of him 
 with regret. 
 
 11. 
 
 We came in sight of Aspinwall at about nine o'clock. It is 
 my third visit to it, yet there seems but little improvement. 
 A few wooden hotels, and shops whose only harvest is 
 reaped from the steamer passengers, are the abodes of those 
 who choose to live on this pestiferous spot. The palm trees 
 wave above it and around is all the luxuriance of tropical 
 vegetation. Two miles from shore, the U. S. steam frigate, 
 WabasJi, was lying, to some of whose officers we were in- 
 debted for kind attentions during our brief stay. 
 
 We landed at ten o'clock, and as the train did not 
 leave till three p. m., remained at one of the hotels. There are 
 but few Americans here, the inhabitants being principally 
 Mexicans or natives. The sick were now selected from the 
 passengers, and left behind in a hospital belonging to the 
 Company. 
 
 It was a pleasant afternoon, unusually cool, when we set 
 off for Panama. I made the journey four years since, by 
 boat, up Chagres River for one day, and then another day 
 from Cruces on mules, through the mountain passes. Now, 
 by the railroad, the fifty-five miles are travelled over in 
 about four hours. 
 
 Just beyond Aspinwall, is the cottage in which John L. 
 Stephens died. After all his experience in Egypt and the 
 East, he yielded on this spot to the deadly malaria. Our 
 train went but slowly, for the heavy rains had, in some 
 places, undermined the road j yet every moment opened 
 
260 THE EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 prospects through the ravines of the mountains, or amid 
 the dense tropical foliage of the forests, with an occasional 
 glimpse of Chagres Eiver, which charmed the eye. Every 
 few miles we passed a little native settlement, the light 
 walls of the houses made of cane and the roof thatched with 
 leaves. The children were playing around, generally in a 
 state of nudity. 
 
 We reached Panama just before dark. Since the massa- 
 cre by the natives, two years ago, the passengers have not 
 been permitted to enter the orXj. The depot is without the 
 walls, and we were convej^ed at once to the steam-tug. 
 Here we were all crowded on board, while the steerage pas- 
 sengers were towed behind in barges; and in about an hour 
 we reached the Golden Gate. We have a magnificent 
 steamer, three times the size of the Star of the West, and 
 there is a prospect of as much comfort as is usual at sea. 
 
 A fortnight's voyage is before us, yet the Pacific is not 
 liable to storms, and we dread it less than we did our thir- 
 teen da3^s on the other side. We have reason to be thank- 
 ful for our preservation from the dangers through which 
 we have already passed, and may well say, in the words of 
 Dr. Wm. Croswell's Traveller's Hymn— slightly altered, 
 
 Lord, go with us, and we go 
 
 Safely, through the weariest length, 
 Travelling, if Thou will' st it so, 
 
 In the greatness of Thy strength; 
 Through the day, and through the dark. 
 
 O'er the deep and pathless sea. 
 Speed the progress of our bark, 
 
 Bring us \yhere we fain would be. 
 
RETURN, 261 
 
 But I must curtail the rest of this narrative, particularly 
 as I have already given, four years ago, my experience on 
 the Pacific. For the first week we were speeding on over a 
 scarcely rippled sea. "With a splendid steamer and cloud- 
 less weather, there was nothing we could wish altered. As 
 we crossed the Gulf of Tehuantepec, and again in passing 
 the Gulf of California, we had rough weather, as is usual, 
 for the wind sweeps down over these bodies of water. On 
 the morning of the 8th, we stopped at Acapulco, Mexico, 
 to coal. The entrance to the harbor it by a winding pas- 
 sage, and the inner basin is so enclosed that you are sur- 
 rounded by the hills and cannot see where you were ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 We remained here through the day, anchored a short 
 distance from shore, so that the passengers had an oppor- 
 tunity of landing. Acapulco is a mere Mexican town, 
 commanded by a fort, and picturesque from the palm trees 
 which line the shore. Amid the political troubles of Mex- 
 ico it has been rather famous for its turbulence, and at tbe 
 present time some two hundred of its political prisoners 
 are confined on a desolate island a few miles from shore. 
 As our steamer passed in the evening we saw their fires at 
 the water's edge. The canoes, rowed bj he half naked 
 natives, soon surrounded our steamer, bringing a plentiful 
 supply of all tropical fruits. I did not go on shore, as it 
 was my third visit to this place, but our stopping formed a 
 pleasant episode in the voyage. 
 
 The following evening we ran into Manzanillo, another 
 Mexican port, to land some passengers. It is an obscure 
 town, but the place at which the steamers, on their 
 downward trip, generally receive a large amount of silver 
 
262 ^^^ EARLY DAYS OF MY EPISCOPATE. 
 
 from the interior, to be sent to the United States and 
 England. 
 
 We spent two Sundays on board. On the first, I read 
 service and preached in the saloon. On the second, as the 
 Kev. Dr. Armstrong, from the Sandwich Islands, was to 
 preach, I went forward, and held service among the steerage 
 passengers. A small cask was covered with the American 
 flag, for my desk, while the congregation sat down on the 
 deck in circles around me. There were probably no Church- 
 men among them, for I saw no Prayer Book. I therefore 
 read a few appropriate Collects and a Lesson, and preached 
 a short extemporaneous sermon. In the iiymns, however, 
 which I gave out two lines at a time, they joined most 
 heartily. 
 
 Wednesday morning, 16th. We crossed the bar at about 
 four o'clook, and in an hour more were at the wharf. Our 
 two guns rang over the hill-sides, and shortly we were 
 greeted with a warm welcome, and the announcement that 
 kind friends had put our house in order and that the fires 
 were now lighted and breakfast preparing. So we drove 
 home and sat down to our morning meal as quietly as if we 
 had never left the house. 
 
XXIV. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 I now lay down my pen. During the past year I have at 
 leisure moments — sometimes with intervals of weeks — noted 
 down my early experience in this Diocese. When our suc- 
 cessors read this volume, I trust it will furnish them with 
 some interesting facts with regard to the early Church on 
 the Pacific. 
 
 How will this narrative seem to them ? When they are 
 worshipping in splendid buildings and members of powerful 
 parishes, how will they regard our early struggles ? With 
 us the contest is a hard one, as we strive in an unsettled 
 state of society to inculcate a regard for the things which 
 are "unseen and eternal" on a people given up to the 
 greed of gold. 
 
 Children of the next generation ! to you we bequeath this 
 contest. Living over our dust and inheriting the fruit of 
 our labors, we pray you worthily to wage this warfare till 
 you resign your weapons to others and join us in the land 
 of spirits. 
 
 March 16th, 1860. 
 
 263 
 
THE BEAUTIFUL LAND: 
 
 PALESTINE, 
 
 HISTORICAL, GEOGRAPHICAL AND PICTORIAL: 
 
 DESCRIBED AND ILLUSTRATED AS IT WAS AND AS IT NOW IS, ALONG THE LINES OF 
 
 OUR SAVIOUR'S JOURNEYS. 
 
 JOHN FULTON, D.D., LL.D. 
 Introduction by the Rt. Rev. Henry C. Potter, D.D. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY FIFTEEN MAPS AND CHARTS, OVER THREE HUNDRED ENGRAVINGS, AND 
 A GRAND PANORAMA OF JERUSALEM, 
 
 "This handsome volume is especially designed for the large number of Bible students 
 who nevei- expect to visit the Holy Land. Dr. Fulton is a learned clergyman of the 
 Episcopal Church, who ranks high as a clear, forcible and thoughtful writer, and his 
 record of a leisurely journey made through Palestine is well worth reading. Many books 
 have been written about the Holy Land, but hardly any of them are available for the uses 
 of the ordinary student. . . . To take such a journey with a well-instructed and 
 sympathetic cicerone, is a great privilege. In traveling it is not enough to see ; one 
 needs also to know what to see and how to see it. Dr. Fulton does not simply reproduce 
 the atmosphere of the distant past so that it lives again before us, though he does that; 
 but he relates to us in a pleasant fashion the later history of the localities whose story he 
 tells, so that the chasm between the days of old and the present day is bridged over for 
 the reader." — From the New York Tribune. 
 
 " The title of this book is a full description of its character and contents. It is indeed 
 a most valuable volume for the Christian student or t. aveler to the Holy Land. The idea 
 of traveling along the lines of our Lord's journeys is certainly original, and the exceeding 
 care and pains which Dr. Fulton has taken to be accurate in his statements and thorough 
 in every part of the work increase its value." — From the New York Observer. 
 
 " What a book, we think, for every Bible-teacher to be possessed of! Certainly, at 
 least, no Sunday-school should be without one or more library copies for the teacher's 
 reference, to the enlightenment of his task of making all things clear to the musing and 
 questioning minds of the young. It is a compendium of all that is certainly known of that 
 Beautiful Lnnd, related in a style of rare attractiveness, and it will be found a fitting gift 
 for pupils who have excelled in their Bible lessons and studies." 
 
 — From the Living Church. 
 
 STYLES. 
 
 1. Handsomely bound in best silk cloth, with rich and artistic 
 stampings in ink and gold on front cover and back. Price, $3.75- 
 
 2. The same style, with full gilt edges. Price, $4.50. 
 
 3. In half morocco binding, library style, strong and elegant. 
 Price, $6.00. 
 
 dt^" An Agent wanted in every parish. For terms apply to 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER, 2 ASD 3 BIBLE HOUSE, NEW YORK. 
 
THREE IMPORTANT WORKS IN 
 CHURCH HISTORY. 
 
 I. 
 
 History of the American Episcopal Church. From the 
 Planting of the Colonies to the End of the Civil War. 
 By Rev. S. D. McConnell, D.D. Third Edition. 8vo, 
 cloth, $2.00. 
 
 "Among the most notable and valuable of the books that appeared during the past year — 
 in the closing period of the book season— was, ' The History of the American Episcopal 
 Church' from the planting of the colonies to the end of the Civil War. The author, the 
 Rev. Dr. McConnell, is one of the most vigorous, clear-minded, progressive and valuable 
 men enlisted in the ranks of the Protestant Episcopal clergy. He has given us a book of 
 rare merit and great interest, one marked feature of which is its fairness, its determination 
 to tell the true story of the Church without desire to giveher more credit than she deserves, 
 or withhold from her any of the praise to which she is entitled. . . . Notonlydothe 
 literary execution of the work and the pervasive spirit of candor and impartiality deserve 
 peculiar commendation, but one is struck with the patient and vigilant scholarship which, 
 in depicting the relation of the Episcopal Church to the colonial communities, has sought 
 out the original authorities."— BuJ^alo Cojnviercial, 
 
 II. 
 
 The Church in Nova Scotia, and The Tory Clergy of the 
 Revolution. By Rev. Arthur Wentworth Eaton, 
 B.A. i2mo, cloth, $1.50 net. 
 
 " This is a book of historical value and interest, not merely to Anglican and Episcopalian 
 Churchmen, but to all students of early American history. Nova Scotia ought to have a 
 great deal of interest for Americans, for it was to that Province that thousands of New 
 York and New England tories went at the time of the American Revolution. As might 
 naturally be expected these tories were nearly all staunch and devoted Anglican Church- 
 men, so that while on one hand their withdrawal seriously weakened the Episcopal Church 
 ill this country, it made Nova Scotia, the oldest Colonial diocese of the Church of England, 
 the most important centre of Anglicanism on this continent. That alone would make a 
 chronicle of Anglicanism in Nova Scotia well worth reading even if it were not for the 
 circumstance that it is also necessarily and inferentiallya history of the society and political 
 life of the Province. 
 
 " Mr. Eaton, who is himself a Nova Scotian, already distinguished in the world of letters, 
 has done his work well. His study of the old archives of Nova Scotia has been thorough 
 and painstaking. He is not only imbued with that genuine respect for facts which 
 distinguishes the true historian, but he is also gifted with that sympathetic imagination 
 which is so essential for a comprehensive and lucid presentation of facts," — N, V, Tribune. 
 
 III. 
 
 The Constitution of the American Church : Its History and 
 
 Rationale. The Bohlen Lectures for 1890. By Rt. Rev. 
 William Stevens Perry, D.D. i2mo, cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " Bishop Perry could scarcely have rendered a more acceptable service to this genera- 
 tion than he has done by writing this book. . . . We wish that our Bishops and all 
 examining chaplains would insist upon the study of this book by candidates as a necessary 
 qualification for ordination." — The Standard of the Cross, 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER, 2 AND 3 BIBLE HODSE, MEW YORK. 
 
THE CYCLOPEDIA OF 
 NATURE TEACHINGS. 
 
 WITH AN INTROUUCTION BY KEV. 
 
 HUGH MACMILLAN, LL.D., F.R.S.E., 
 
 AUTHOR OF "bible TEACHINGS IN NATURE," ETC. 
 
 8vo, Cloth Extra. Price, $2.50. Just Out. 
 
 One of the most characteristic features of modern culture is the attention 
 given to the facts, moods and suggestions of " Nature." 
 
 Teachers and preachers are feeling the need for illustrations from 
 Nature in their pulpit, platform and class work, and as the scientific 
 knowledge and the love of Nature increase in schools and in congregations, 
 there must be an increasing demand for illustrations taken from the spheres 
 in which audiences are becoming daily more interested. 
 
 The Cyclopaedia of Nature Teachings is a collection of remarkable 
 passages from the writings and utterances of the leading authors, preachers 
 and orators, which embody suggestive or curious information concerning 
 Nature. Each passage contains'some important or noteworthy fact or state- 
 ment which may serve to illustrate religious truth or moral principles, the 
 extracts being gleaned from the widest and most varied sources. 
 
 The passages are arranged alphabetically under subjects, and subdivided 
 so as to elucidate the topic treated of and illustrate it in every possible way. 
 Thus under the head of The Air, we find on this subject passages are 
 given on The Beauty of Clouds, The Mysteries of the Clouds, 
 Changes in the Sky, Mists and Sunshine, The Message of the 
 Heavens, Sky Influences, Autumn, Sunshine, Plants, The At- 
 mosphere, etc., etc. 
 
 That the Cyclopaedia is a work of true value and reliable information will 
 be seen by the names of the following authors, from whose writings, among 
 many others, some of the extracts are taken, viz., RusKiN, Jefferies, 
 Maclaren, McCook, Hugh Macmillan, Beecher, Smiley, Wilson, 
 PuLSFORD, Guthrie, Froude, Lytton, Robertson, Arthur, Arnot, 
 Herschel, Procter, Faber, Taylor, Dawson, Helps, Emerson, 
 Dickens, Agassiz, Parker, Conder, Chalmers, Baldwin, Brown, 
 Cuvier, Richter, Gcethe, etc. 
 
 The volume forms a most valuable work of reference, and by its orderly 
 arrangement puts its wealth of information and suggestion at the disposition 
 of the student or teacher ; but the varied character of the selections, the 
 freshness of the subjects treated, and the literary grace of many of the 
 paragraphs will also make the work welcome to general readers. 
 
 The Cyclopaedia of Nature Teachings is furnished with a very 
 copious index of subjects, and also one of Bible texts, 
 
 NEW YORK: THOMAS WHITTAKER, 2 AND 3 BIBLE HODSE. 
 
PROF. T. K. CHEYNE'S WORKS. 
 
 The Origin and Religious Contents of the Psalter, in 
 
 the Light of Old Testament Criticism and the History of 
 Religions. With an Introduction and Appendixes. Eight 
 Lectures Preached before the University of Oxford in the 
 Year 1889. Svo, cloth, $4.00. 
 
 "The Oriel Professor at Oxford (Dr. Cheyne) is an earnest, conscientious and 
 industrious critic. His Bampton Lectures are the outcome of twenty years' study and 
 research. He asks to be considered not a 'fledgeling,' but a critic of fully adequate 
 experience, not a ' Gennanizer.' but an honest English worker in Biblical exegesis. He 
 settles on the principles of the ' higher criticism ' numerous disputed questions in regard to 
 the Book of Psalms."— .A^. V. Times. 
 
 The Book of Psalms; or, the Praises of Israel. A new 
 
 Translation, with Commentary. Svo, cloth, $3.00. 
 
 " We not only welcome this volume by the Canon of Rochester as a delight to scholars, 
 but rlso commend it to all devout laymen and students who, believing the Bible to be the 
 Word of God, may yet have to complain of having it expounded, and the Gospel preached, 
 in seventeenth century phrase, and with the traditionalist's fear of the dreadful nineteenth 
 century knowledge that is so rapidly cracking the rind of authorized opinions." 
 
 — The Critic. 
 
 The Prophecies of Isaiah. A new Translation, with Com- 
 mentary and Appendixes. Revised. Two volumes in one. 
 Svo, cloth, $4.00. 
 
 " Mr. Cheyne's work is in many respects one of the most noteworthy of our day. . . 
 He has been a devout and careful student of Isaiah for some twenty years past." 
 
 — A^. Y. Times. 
 " We rejoice that a Commentary which must be marked 'indispensable,' is thus put 
 within the reach of a larger number of those who love the great prophet." 
 
 — Andover Review. 
 "The qualities of Mr, Cheyne's Commentary would make it a good book in any 
 language, or almost in any condition of Biblical learning. It is perspicuous without being 
 superficial, and terse without the omission of anything of importance." — Academy. 
 
 Job and Solomon ; or, the Wisdom of the Old Testament. 
 
 Svo, cloth, $2,50. 
 
 " This is certainly one of the most fascinating and delightfully readable works in 
 Biblical criticism that has come under our eye for a long time. If Robertson Smith or 
 VVelhausen had a style like that of Cheyne the rapidly advancing science (or art) of 
 Biblical criticism would soon be amazingly popular." — The Critic. 
 
 The Hallowing of Criticism. Nine Sermons on Elijah, 
 Preached in Rochester Cathedral. i2mo, cloth, red edge, 
 $2.00. 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER, Publisher, 
 
 2 and 3 Bible House, New York. 
 
THE RIGHT ROAD 
 
 A Hand-Book for Parents and Teachers. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 Rev. JOHN W. KRAMER. 
 
 12mOf cloth binding, - - Price , $1,25. 
 
 ** There is not a duM page in it. Even the bad boy who dislikes moral 
 lectures will like pleasant chats : he will take the moral pills for the sake 
 of their sugar coating, if for nothing else. Parents will find this excellent 
 book helpful in getting their children on the right road and keeping them 
 there. " — The Home Journal. 
 
 " ' The Right Road ' presents John W. Kramer's plan of giving instruc- 
 tion to children, and of arousing their personal interest in the principles and 
 practice of Christian morality. By means of simply worded observations, 
 and a great variety of short stories, he undertakes to teach a child something 
 about personal responsibility, right and duty. Under duty, instruction and 
 illustrations are given concerning duties to one's self — such as cleanliness, 
 temperance, truthfulness, courage, self-control, order, thrift, culture and 
 purity, duties to others — honor of parents, patriotism, honesty, justice, 
 mercy .^philanthropy, courtesy, gratitude and kindness to animals, duties to 
 Qod — embracing reverence, worship and service." — TAe Interior. 
 
 " As a treatise on practical ethics the book has decided merits. It 
 treats of nearly all aspects of morality, setting forth the nature and the 
 obligation of the various kmds of duty in a clear and simple style and in a 
 manner likely to interest the young. The different virtues and vices are 
 illustrated by numerous examples in the story form, some of them historical, 
 other fictitious, and many of them are fitted not only to illustrate the habits 
 of good conduct, but to inspire the reader with a love for them. The book 
 is more manly than such books usually are, the strong and positive virtues 
 being given the importance that justly belongs to them. The last section of 
 the book and duty to God is excellent, and is by no means uncalled for in 
 times like these." — Critic. 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER, 2 AND 3 BIBLE HOUSE, MEW YORK. 
 
AUBREY L. MOORE'S WRITINGS. 
 
 "With preachers like Phillips Brooks and M. Bersier the late Rev. 
 Aubrey L. Moore was not unworthy to take rank, though his strength lay, 
 perhaps, in delicacy of spiritual perception rather than in the more ordinary 
 and popular forms of pulpit eloquence." — The London Times. 
 
 I. 
 
 Sermons Preached in the Chapel Royal, Whitehall. By 
 
 the late Rev. Aubrey L. Moore. i2mo, cloth, $1.50. 
 
 Just Out. 
 II. 
 
 The Message of the Gospel. By the late Rev. Aubrey L. 
 Moore. i2mo, cloth, 75 cents. 
 
 This volume contains three addresses on the Message of the Gospel ; 
 two on Vocation ; and six sermons before the University of Oxford on the 
 following topics : " The Veil of Moses," " The God of Philosophy and the 
 God of Religion," "The Claim to Authority," "The Power of Christ on 
 Moral Life," " The Presence of God in the Christian and the Church," 
 "Decision for God." 
 
 " In bulk this is a small book, but like a jewel casket, small itself, its 
 contents are of great price." — The Churchman. 
 
 III. 
 
 Some Aspects of Sin : Three Courses of Lent Sermons. 
 
 By the late Rev. Aubrey L. Moore. i2mo, cloth, 
 75 cents. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Science and the Faith. Essays of Apologetic Subjects. 
 With an Introduction. Second Edition. i2mo, cloth, $1.50, 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER, Publisher, 
 
 2 and 3 Bible House, New York. 
 
CANON FARRAR'S SERMONS. 
 
 I. 
 
 EVERY-DAY CHRISTIAN LIFE; 
 
 Or, Sermons by the Way. 
 
 By Frederick W. Farrar, D.D. i2mo, cloth, $1.25. 
 
 " These sermons by Canon Farrar are the ordinary discourses of 
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 novelties of modern rationalism. But they are very delightful sermons 
 to read — full of tender thought and happy suggestion, and written in a 
 style which when the English clergy do attain it is one of the happiest 
 known to the pulpit. As the other extreme of English preaching, the dead- 
 and-alive manner of mere perfunctory talk is hateful to the last degree, 
 so is this, its opposite, peculiarly pleasant." — llie Chunhfnan. 
 
 II. 
 
 TRUTHS TO LIVE BY : 
 
 A Companion to " Every-Day Christian Life." 
 
 By the same author. 121110, cloth, ^1.25. 
 " This is a volume of practical sermons written in a style free from 
 mere technical language. The discourses are just what Dr. Farrar 
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 clear some of the most essential truth of Christian faith." — The Obsefver. 
 
 Contemporary Pulpit Library. 
 
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 No. I. FIFTEEN SERMONS. By Canon Liddon. 
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 No. 4. FOURTEEN SERMONS. By Canon Uddon. 
 No. 5. FIFTEEN SERMONS. By Bishop Lightfoot. 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER, 
 
 2 AND 3 Bible House, Kew York. 
 
THE DIVINE LITURGY. 
 
 Being the order for Holy Communion historically, doc» 
 trinally, and devotionally set forth in fifty portions. By 
 the Rev. Herbert Mortimer Luckock, D.D., Canon 
 of Ely. 414 pp. i2mo, cloth, $2.00. 
 
 *'We can heartily recommend this as one of the best things of the 
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 parts of the service, rubrics, the text itself, technical and liturgical terms 
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 brief expositions of the meaning and teaching, with practical suggestions 
 of a devotional character. The author's position is that of a positive 
 but conservative Churchman, in the best sense Catholic. His style is 
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 in trustworthiness and wide array of facts." — The Christian Union. 
 
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 of Canon Luckock is nowhere more apparent than in this important 
 work. It will prove a most valuable help to the parochial clergy in the 
 regular instruction of communicant classes, a design which he had in 
 view in its preparation. The book is in fifty portions, so that in the 
 case of monthly instruction, it would extend as a manual of aid for a 
 period of four years." — Livitig Church, 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 AFTER DEATH. An Examination of the Testimony of the 
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 their Relationship to the Living. Fifth edition, revised. i2mo, 
 cloth. $1.50. 
 
 STUDIES IN THE HISTORY OF THE PRAYER BOOK. 
 
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 FOOTPRINTS OF THE SON OF MAN, as traced by 
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 THOMAS WHITTAKER, 
 
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CANON ROW'S NEW BOOK, 
 
 CHRISTIAN THEISM. 
 
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 it rests, and the Objections urged against it considered and 
 refuted. By C. A. Row, M.A. Small 8vo, cloth, $1.75. 
 
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 to the needs of the multitude of people who justly complain that many 
 excellent treatises dealing with the subject are ' over their heads.' It 
 also claims to be a comprehensive survey of the whole question as it is 
 now debated, and grapples with current difficulties and objections which, 
 if thev do not subvert the faith of many, do nevertheless prevail with 
 some/and cause widespread disquiet and perplexity." 
 
 — The Standard of the Cross. 
 
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 Apologetics of Christian belief, and they are many, this will be the most 
 prominent in the list, the most thoroughly and lastingly useful." 
 
 — The LJvinor Church. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 REASONS FOR BELIEVING IN CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Addressed to busy people. i2mo, cloth, gilt top, 75 cents. 
 CHRISTIAN EVIDENCE VIEWED IN RELATION TO 
 
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 FUTURE RETRIBUTION, VIEWED IN THE LIGHT 
 
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 THOMAS WHITTAKER, 
 
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Reason and Authority 
 IN Religion. 
 
 By J. MACBRIDE STERRETT, D.D., Professor ol 
 Ethics and Apologetics in Seabury Divinity School. 
 Author of " Studies in Hegel's Philosophy of Religion." 
 i2mo, cloth, $i.oo. 
 
 press IRotices: 
 
 " A philosophical, keen and clever mind has given us in brief form, 
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 ever tried." — The Living Church. 
 
 *' A thoughtful and prudent balancing of the arguments and con- 
 siderations that are apt to be uppermost in the speculations of open and 
 inquiring minds in these times." — The Independent. 
 
 '' I have never seen so much thought put into so narrow limits 
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 " This book is a vigorous essay on the burning question regarding 
 the seat of authority in religion. It is marked throughout by candor, 
 vigor and incisiveness of thought and will repay a careful reading." — 
 The New Englander and Yale Review. 
 
 " The author of this volume has already become favorably known 
 to all thinkers upon such themes by his ' Studies in Hegel's Philosophy 
 of Religion.' His honesty and fairness, liis clearness of statement, 
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 cussion. It is a book compelling close thought, and filled with stimu- 
 lating, healthful, interesting work for good thinkers or those who would 
 become such." — Public Opinion. 
 
 " He writes as a scholar and a philosopher, and his discussion in 
 the present work is timely and firted to restrain adventurous minds 
 from dangerous extremes." — The Interior. 
 
 THOMAS ^A;^HITTAKER, 
 
 PUBLISHER, 
 
CHRIST IN THE NEW 
 TESTAMENT. 
 
 By THOMAS A. TIDBALL, D.D., Rector of St. Paul's 
 Chiirch, Camden, N. J. With an Introduction by 
 S. D. McCoNNELL, D.D. i2rao, cloth, $1.25. 
 
 "We notice on nearly every page the extensive reading of its 
 author and the judicial mind, which not only attempts but proves the 
 authenticity of the New Testament Books and their drift and purpose. 
 The first lecture is to us the most striking ; but all show learning and 
 the Christian spirit. We know of no work which in like compass in- 
 troduces so well the various books of the New Testament."— The 
 Southern Churchman. 
 
 "The volume is scholarly, reverent, gracefully written, spiritual in 
 tone ; a really good book that makes one better as it clears his mind 
 and lifts his heart." — Every Thursday. 
 
 " Dr. Tidball's style is felicitous for the lecture room, exact in ex- 
 pression, careful in the right presentation and due rounding of his facts, 
 and agreeably free fiom any pedantries of learning." — Living Church. 
 
 "It can stand on its own merits as a popular presentation of a sub- 
 ject of perennial freshness." — The Critic. 
 
 " While there is little that is directly polemic in these pages, this 
 purpose is largely attained, and that in the best possible manner. To 
 each of the writers of the New Testament the question is virtually ad- 
 dressed, ' What think ye of Christ ?' and the answer is of great apolo- 
 getic value. Through all the obvious differences of style and treatment 
 can be seen the one Lord and Saviour, and these apparent variations 
 serve only to give a clearer outline of the life and work of the Great 
 Exemplar." — Churchfnan. 
 
 "The introductory chapter to this volume, consisting of thirty 
 pages, is in substance very similar to the ' Introduction to the New 
 Testament ' as commonly found in good commentaries. It treats of the 
 origin and formation of the several books of their authors, of their 
 general scope, and of recent criticism. It also gives an excellent 
 definition of inspiration — the manner and measure of it. Then follow 
 nine other chapters in which the author gives a study of the whole New 
 Testament, in groups of books — the Synoptic Gospels, St. John's 
 Gospel, The Acts, the P.iuline Epiftles, etc., the main object being to 
 bring out their testimony to Christ as the Son of God and Saviour of 
 the World." — Pacific Churchman. 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER, 
 
 PUBLISHER, 
 2&3 BIBLE HOUSE HOUSE, - NEW YORK. 
 
A Book of Questions and Answers on the Doctrines, Usages, 
 and History of the Church as suggested by the Liturgy. 
 For Parochial and Sunday-school uses. By Rev. Nelson 
 R. Boss, M.A. i6mo, paper covers, 20 cents, net. 
 
 The design of this book is three-fold. (i). To famih'arize the reader wiih 
 the Doctrines, History and Ritual of the Church, as they are suggested by the 
 Offices; (2). To bring out clearly and concisely those principles of Historic 
 Christianity which distinguish the Episcopal Church fiom all other religious 
 bodies ; (3). To furnish clear and concise answers to the popular objections so 
 commonly raised against the Church by those not familiar with her ways. 
 
 Bishop Seymour says: 
 
 Whoever read.-; " The Prayer-Book Reason Why" will find it a treasury of 
 useful information. I welcome it heartily. I believe its publication will be 
 eminently useful and beneficial. It covers a great deal of ground and instructs 
 as it goes forward. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Samuel Buel, Emeritus Professor of Systematic 
 
 Divinity in the General Theological Seminary, says : 
 
 The book is a desideratum which I wonder has not been disclosed before. 
 That it is eminently fitted to do great good I cannot doubt, and that it will be 
 a most useful book in the hands of the pastors of the Church I firmly believe. 
 Throughout the work the Church herself has spoken for the benefit of her 
 children. 
 
 Bishop Littlejohn says : 
 
 To thousands of adult members of the Church, if the book could only be 
 placed in their hands, it would be a valuable help to clear and sound thinking 
 on the very important subjects of which it treats. 
 
 Mr. Whittaker, the Publisher, says : 
 
 In almost every case where I send out a sample copy of "The Prayer- 
 Book Reason Why," more copies are immediately ordered. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 THOS. WHITTAKER, 2 and 3 Bible Honse Kew York, 
 
 And For Sale by all Church Booksellers. 
 
THE CHIEF THINGS; 
 
 OR, CHURCH DOCTRINE FOR THE PEOPLE. 
 
 By REV. A. W. SNYDER. 
 
 l2mo^ Cloth binding, $i.oo. Paper covers, 50 Cents. 
 
 '^ It is just what we want.'' — Bishop Whitehead. 
 
 " It is an indispensable aid in parish work." — Rev. C. W. 
 Leffingzuell, D.D. 
 
 " The author has gathered into a volume twenty-six essays on 
 just those topics and questions pertaining to Church faith and wor- 
 ship, on which a multitude of people, both without and within our 
 congregations, need to be instructed. The statements are always 
 clear, concise, direct, and persuasive. There is nothing extravagant, 
 overwrought, fantastic, or bitier. Many of the essays would mnke 
 excellent chapters for lay reading." — Rt. Rev. F. D. Htiniington, 
 D.D. 
 
 " It does not deal with the one thing needful in order to be 
 saved, but with a considerable number of things th it is necessary to 
 believe, in order to be sound. It is written in a stirring, off-hand 
 way, and the person who reads it carefully, and uses it freely, will 
 be a perpetual thorn in the fle>h of all sectarian associates, and 
 generally regarded by disinterested parties as decidedly a tough nut 
 to crack. Tne book is a beautiful specimen of t) pographical art." 
 — Standard of the Cross. 
 
 "It enunciates the 'Chief Things' so clearly that the way- 
 faring man, though a fool, can hardly mistake the meaning. The 
 thougiits are so clear and clean cut, that the book must be helpful 
 to many seekers after truth and the Church." — Rt. Rev. W. A. 
 Leonaid, D.D. 
 
 " The Church throughout this land of ours is badly in need of 
 just such teaching as this book contains." — Rt. Rev. E. G. Weed, 
 D.D. 
 
 *** Copies sent by viail, postage free, on receipt of price. 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER, 
 
 2 and 3 Bible House, NEW Y0i?K. 
 
Thoughts on Life, Death 
 and Immortahty. 
 
 Selected from the unpublished writings of the late Samuel 
 Smith Harris, Bishop of Michigan. By Charlotte 
 Wood Slocum. i2mo, cloth, gilt edges, ^i ; cloth 
 plain, 75 cents. 
 
 " These thoughts of Bishop Harris are simply admirable." — Southern 
 Churchman. 
 
 " The work of selection has been performed by Charlotte Wood 
 Slocum, who knew Bishop Harris intimately, and was fully aware of his 
 extreme sensibility to print. She has done her task with taste and judg- 
 ment, and both religion and literature are enriched by her efforts." — 
 Chicago Post. 
 
 " There is in these thoughts the originality which comes from 
 personal and independent experience, there is the fiery glow that faith 
 and hope alone minister, there i the simplicity that sheer earnestness 
 alone finds utterance in." — The Churchman. 
 
 •'A collection of solid nuggets and polished gems." — The 
 Independent. 
 
 *' They show the writer had profited by experience in the school of 
 life, and the practical sagacity lends additional value to the brief dis- 
 courses, which have a delightfully unpremeditated air. Evidently the 
 Bishop understood how far every man may make his own world. It is 
 rather singular that these passages do not appear to suffer from loss of 
 context, but the lack of elaboration only serves to throw the thought 
 into higher relief. These are tonic utterances, and show a manly spirit ; 
 the remarks on responsibility and the issues of life may be taken as 
 typical extracts."- -Z>c'/r<3z7 Fne Press. 
 
 " This little volume of extracts furnishes new proofs of the high 
 ideals cherished by Dr. Harris, of his catholicity of spirit, and of his 
 lo\alty to Christ's gospel." — The Interior, Chicago. 
 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER, 
 
 PUBLISHER, 
 2 & 3 BiBLE HOUSE, - NEW YORK. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 017 064 194 2 
 
 
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