by armed ruffianism and lavish bribery. Between 1849 and 1856 a thousand homicides had been committed in the city, and but seven of the murderers were executed. At last James King, who had denounced this anarchy with bitter energy in the columns of the Bulletin newspaper, was shot down in the street by an ex-convict of New York, who was at that time a municipal official. This was the crowning infamy, and the people saw that they must despise law, and enact justice with their own hands. They gathered in a secret lodge-hall, and formed the famous Vigilance Committee, which with extraordinary swiftness became organised into military companies, fully armed and efficiently drilled. Business was suspended, and the proceeding of the league advanced with ominous and terrifying silence and secrecy. A few days later, twenty-four companies, with artillery, surrounded the prison, and removed the assassin of King and another murderer, whom they tried, with all due formality, and hanged from the windows of the head-quarters. Many other desperadoes were seized, tried, and punished, in the same swift and stern manner, and the daily records of crime dwindled to blanks. The Governor of California proclaimed San Francisco in a state of insurrection, and asked the aid of the National authorities to subdue it. But the Vigilantes easily overpowered and disarmed the socalled Law-and-Order militia; and the United States declined to interfere. Trade was resumed, but the companies rushed to arms as often as the great bell over the headquarters building pealed out its solemn tones. After about ten weeks of this government, the peace of the city was deemed secure, and the Committee disbanded. It had executed four murderers, and banished twenty-five criminals; and upwards of seven hundred others had fled far away, in abject terror. The entire force of the Vigilantes was paraded on the last day, and marched through the redeemed and purified streets, adorned with flags and flowers. There were 5,137 men, including thirty-three companies of infantry, 300 dragoons, and three companies of artillery, with eighteen guns. A few years later, when the United States were disrupted by the slaveholders' rebellion, California remained true to the Union, and although the continuous roar of war never approached her borders, she contributed freely, of men and money, to restore the broken Republic. The unwavering loyalty of this isolated community was largely due to the strenuous efforts and wonderful eloquence of two men, Thomas Starr King, a Unitarian clergyman, from Boston, and Edward D. Baker, a statesman and soldier, from London. The latter was sent to Washington as a Senator, and soon afterwards fell in the front of battle, while gallantly leading the 1st California Regiment. The community not only had to contend against its own bad elements, but also found it necessary to wage a continual warfare with nature. The site of the city was in many respects very unfavourable for building, and great difficulties have been experienced in grading over the swamps. Sometimes new streets, just made ready for official inspection and approval, would suddenly sink through the spongy peat, and be replaced by lanes of dismal mud and water. A huge steam-shovel was kept busy for more than twenty years, cutting down the high hills of sand, and loading countless dust-carts with material for making solid ground for the new metropolis. Between 1868 and 1878 the municipal domains were enlarged by 800 acres of land, reclaimed from the Bay and the swamps, and speedily occupied for business purposes. More than thirty million tons of sand and soil have been removed from the heights, in order to level up the low ground and flats, and make the broad plain which is now occupied by a dense population. In order to conform to the legal grade, 900 brick buildings were lifted up from their low foundations, by ingenious hydraulic machines. When Lieutenant Ayala sailed his ship through the Golden Gate in 1775, he found within "a collection of harbours in which all the navies of Spain could hide from one another;" and a few years later, Vancouver, the great discoverer, proclaimed it "as fine a port as the world affords a principal object of the Spanish Crown." To-day the harbour is recognised as by far the best between Victoria and Panama; and by virtue thereof San Francisco becomes the entrepôt of the Pacific coast, the outlet of the richest wheat-lands and orchards on the continent, the reservoir of streams of gold and silver from Nevada and the foot-hills, the centre of supplies for the great mining districts, and the eastern port of the powerful British colonies in the South Scas. The Golden Gate, the strait which joins San Francisco Bay to the ocean, is a little more than three miles long, with a width of from one to two miles, and a depth exceeding 400 feet. The Bay, which opens inside, has been called (by Californians) more beautiful than the Bay of Naples, or that of Rio de Janeiro-a remark often made about almost every harbour in America. It is nearly seventy miles in navigable length, and from three to twelve miles in width. The scene along the water-front is always full of life and interest, presenting the same sights and sounds that are familiar at Sydney and Hong Kong, at Callao and Yokohama. Here are forests of masts, with intricate thickets of rigging; great smokestacks, darkening the surrounding air; and docks laden down with boxes and bales of goods, mounds of outbound grain, heaps of inbound tea, and grimy piles of British and Australian coal. There are lines of sailing-ships bound for scores of ports in the Pacific Ocean; and fleets of coasting craft from the nearer American harbours; and steamers which ply regularly to Monterey, Santa Barbara, San Diego, and other cities on the southern coast, and to the ports of Oregon and British Columbia. The most southerly of the line of docks is occupied by the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, which owns more than a score of large vessels, mostly iron screw-propellers, running to British Columbia, China, Australia, Central America, and Panama. Two of the ships of this company, the City of Pekin and the City of Tokio, have each a tonnage exceeding 5,000 tons, and are provided with every luxury. The Dry Dock is in South San Francisco, hewn from the solid rock of Hunter's Point, and 421 feet long. This great work, and the adjacent Floating Dock, cost £400,000. The huge grain-sheds, built by the State Harbour Commissioners, are the scene of a trade which is continually growing in magnitude, and has the closest connection with the docks of Liverpool. The gold-hunters of '49 regarded the parched plains and brown hills of California as worthless, and all agreed that when the deposits of precious metals were exhausted, the State would be abandoned to the Indians and Mexicans. But experiments in farming and irrigation were rewarded with astonishing success, and now California produces 35,000,000 bushels of wheat every year-an amount which is exceeded only by the old and densely-populated States of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. The culture of the grape, also, has assumed great proportions, and the clarets and burgundies of France, the white wines of the Rhine, the sweet varieties of Hungary, the red wines of Spain and Portugal, and sparkling champagnes are produced freely in the California vineyards. The valuation of these vineyards is £7,000,000, and their yearly income reaches nearly £800,000. San Francisco, with its 15,000 bar-rooms, rich in marble, mahogany, and plate-glass, consumes but a small part of this product, most of which is exported. Near to the southern end of the great sea-wall is the mooring-ground of the fishermen, a hardy company of red-shirted and swarthy-faced Italians, whose swift little craft are equipped with graceful lateen sails, imported from the Mediterranean, and give a Venetian or Neapolitan aspect to the scene. The dreaded Chinamen have inaugurated a sharp competition in the fishing business, and call down many a deep and musical execration from the maritime Italians. More familiar in aspect than these Levantine boats are the beautiful vessels of the San Francisco Yacht Club, whose races up the Bay are watched with great interest. About the year 1850 the famous California clipper-ships made their appearance in the Western seas, inaugurating a new era in naval architecture. These remarkable vessels, the swiftest sailing-ships that the world has ever seen, made the voyage from Boston and New York around Cape Horn and up to San Francisco in less than a hundred days, and were enabled to get £10 a ton for freightage-rates. Their sharp bows cleft the soil have been removed from the heights, in order to level up the low ground and flats, and make the broad plain which is now occupied by a dense population. In order to conform to the legal grade, 900 brick buildings were lifted up from their low foundations, by ingenious hydraulic machines. When Lieutenant Ayala sailed his ship through the Golden Gate in 1775, he found within "a collection of harbours in which all the navies of Spain could hide from one another;" and a few years later, Vancouver, the great discoverer, proclaimed it "as fine a port as the world affords-a principal object of the Spanish Crown." To-day the harbour is recognised as by far the best between Victoria and Panama; and by virtue thereof San Francisco becomes the entrepôt of the Pacific coast, the outlet of the richest wheat-lands and orchards on the continent, the reservoir of streams of gold and silver from Nevada and the foot-hills, the centre of supplies for the great mining districts, and the eastern port of the powerful British colonies in the South Scas. The Golden Gate, the strait which joins San Francisco Bay to the ocean, is a little more than three miles long, with a width of from one to two miles, and a depth exceeding 400 feet. The Bay, which opens inside, has been called (by Californians) more beautiful than the Bay of Naples, or that of Rio de Janeiro-a remark often made about almost every harbour in America. It is nearly seventy miles in navigable length, and from three to twelve miles in width. The scene along the water-front is always full of life and interest, presenting the same sights and sounds that are familiar at Sydney and Hong Kong, at Callao and Yokohama. Here are forests of masts, with intricate thickets of rigging; great smokestacks, darkening the surrounding air; and docks laden down with boxes and bales of goods, mounds of outbound grain, heaps of inbound tea, and grimy piles of British and Australian coal. There are lines of sailing-ships bound for scores of ports in the Pacific Ocean; and fleets of coasting craft from the nearer American harbours; and steamers which ply regularly to Monterey, Santa Barbara, San Diego, and other cities on the southern coast, and to the ports of Oregon and British Columbia. The most southerly of the line of docks is occupied by the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, which owns more than a score of large vessels, mostly iron screw-propellers, running to British Columbia, China, Australia, Central America, and Panama. Two of the ships of this company, the City of Pekin and the City of Tokio, have each a tonnage exceeding 5,000 tons, and are provided with every luxury. The Dry Dock is in South San Francisco, hewn from the solid rock of Hunter's Point, and 421 feet long. This great work, and the adjacent Floating Dock, cost £400,000. The huge grain-sheds, built by the State Harbour Commissioners, are the scene of a trade which is continually growing in magnitude, and has the closest connection with the docks of Liverpool. The gold-hunters of '49 regarded the parched plains and brown hills of California as worthless, and all agreed that when the deposits of precious metals were exhausted, the State would be abandoned to the Indians and Mexicans. But experiments in farming and irrigation were rewarded with astonishing success, and now California produces 35,000,000 bushels of wheat every year-an amount which is exceeded only by the old and densely-populated States of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. The culture of the grape, also, has assumed great proportions, and the clarets and burgundies of France, the white wines of the Rhine, the sweet varieties of Hungary, the red wines of Spain and Portugal, and sparkling champagnes are produced freely in the California vineyards. The valuation of these vineyards is £7,000,000, and their yearly income reaches nearly £800,000. San Francisco, with its 15,000 bar-rooms, rich in marble, mahogany, and plate-glass, consumes but a small part of this product, most of which is exported. Near to the southern end of the great sea-wall is the mooring-ground of the fishermen, a hardy company of red-shirted and swarthy-faced Italians, whose swift little craft are equipped with graceful lateen sails, imported from the Mediterranean, and give a Venetian or Neapolitan aspect to the scene. The dreaded Chinamen have inaugurated a sharp competition in the fishing business, and call down many a deep and musical execration from the maritime Italians. More familiar in aspect than these Levantine boats are the beautiful vessels of the San Francisco Yacht Club, whose races up the Bay are watched with great interest. About the year 1850 the famous California clipper-ships made their appearance in the Western seas, inaugurating a new era in naval architecture. These remarkable vessels, the swiftest sailing-ships that the world has ever seen, made the voyage from Boston and New York around Cape Horn and up to San Francisco in less than a hundred days, and were enabled to get £10 a ton for freightage-rates. Their sharp bows cleft the |