interesting, as connected with the most important particulars in the political history of the United States, are beyond our limits to record. It is sufficient to state, that throughout the difficulties in which Colonel Fremont was involved, and the lengthened examination to which he was subjected before a court-martial, the sympathies of the public were generally enlisted in his behalf.

As a private citizen, he contemplated yet another survey of a southern route through the western territory to California, and we cannot sufficiently admire the ardor and self-reliance with which he entered upon the undertaking, after such fearful experience of the dangers attendant on attempting an unknown passage of the great mountain ranges which must be crossed. To resume the remarks of Mr. Lester: "Again he ap peared on the far west: his old mountaineers flocked around him; and, with thirty-three men and one hundred and thirty mules, perfectly equipped, he started for the Pacific.

"On the Sierra San Juan all his mules and a third of his men perished in a more than Russian cold; and Fremont arrived on foot at Santa Fé, stripped of every thing but life. It was a moment for the last pang of despair which breaks the heart, or the moral heroism which conquers fate itself.

"The men of the wilderness knew Fremont; they refitted his expedition; he started again, pierced the country of the fierce and remorseless Apaches; met, awed, or defeated savage tribes; and in a hundred

days from Santa Fé he stood on the glittering banks of the Sacramento." In the new state where he took up his abode, his popularity and prosperity have been unsurpassed.

THE YANKEES IN CALIFORNIA.

At the late forefathers' celebration at San Francisco, George C. Bates, Esq., who responded to the toast of "The Mayflower," said, in substance, that although he was not born in New England, his ancestors came from there; and after a few general remarks on the history of New England and the character of her people, he went on in the following eloquent strain :

"What would Standish, and Brewster, and Carver, and Bartlett, who landed over two centuries since, say, could they join us to-night in this jubilee could they reunite with us on Russian Hill, along the North Beach, and then around Front Street to Rincon Point, and over Mission Creek? If they can look down from their New England heaven (the heaven of the Pilgrims) upon this wondrous city, rising more like magic than even those created by Aladdin's lamp, what would they behold? A paradox, that would puzzle Yankee ingenuity to understand; an antithesis, that the guessing propensities of a Connecticut pedler could not elucidate. Let us see what they would say.

"Looking from Russian Hill- a spot rendered fearful by the execution of the one murderer out of hun-. dreds who have deserved death within the limits of our

city, who there paid the fearful penalty of blood for blood let us look into yonder bay. The moon illu

minates the scene; the city lies beneath us, and its base is washed by the waters that ebb and flow within the Golden Gate.

"First. Let us look at yonder ships. Their tapering masts, their sharp bows, their breadth of beam, their flying voyages, sometimes making even a speed outvying the paddle wheels of the Golden Gate. The Golden Age, the Stephens, the Sonora, whence did they come? Whose are they? Where did the tim bers grow? Where were the bolts forged that bind their oak ribs together? Whose muscle, and arms, and labor riveted their sides, that, thus defying the storms and the tempests of the ocean, they now ride quietly at anchor in the Bay of San Francisco?

"The answer to our guests the spirits of those who came over in the Mayflower - would be, To New England belong those clippers which cleave the ocean wave with the lightning speed of the eagle's wing. Look under their stern; see their baptismal names and place of birth. All are of New England or New York, and of New England parentage. Baltimore, Norfolk, Charleston, Pensacola, Mobile, New Orleans, Galveston, own none. Without being invidious towards our fellowcitizens of other states than those of New England, I would remark as a fact a fact to be remembered and pondered upon that aside from the foreign ships now or heretofore in this port, more than nine tenths

were built, launched, owned, and manned by New Englanders.

"Second. Again descending from the decks of those gallant clippers, we shall show our spiritual guests along our business streets Front, Battery, Sansome, Montgomery. Behold there New England enterprise, the Macondrays, the Flints, the Husseys, the Hales, and their compeers. Enter all these mammoth warehouses, filled with the products of every clime on earth. There you behold millions of capital invested in Yankee manufactures, in Yankee products, in evidence of New England's wealth, of New England's merchants. Let an earthquake shake down this night the business buildings occupied by New Englanders, and save those of our foreign merchants; what would be left? The celebrated destruction of Catania would not be more complete.

"Third. San Francisco is not merely a commercial city, but within its borders, in all directions, may be seen the first efforts of young yet growing manufactures. The ponderous steam engine hammers, and drills, and bores, and files; the buzzing saw screeches and cuts; the driving plane smooths, and tongues, and grooves. Enter any one or all these work places, and underneath the soot and dust, the steam and smoke, you will find there only New England labor. Yankees. build, and guide, and govern those ponderous machines, for they were born, and reared, and taught where labor, free and honest labor, was approved of God and made dignified among men. The sunny south, with its balmy

skies, its enervating climate, and its own institutions, has no representative in that busy hive of industry.

"Fourth. But we travel onward from the deck of the Yankee clippers, through the mammoth warehouses of New England merchants, and we shake off the dust, and soot, and smoke of Yankee workshops from our feet, and our hearts are warmed, our souls are elevated, as we look upward to the many (how many !) houses whose pointed spires, rising heavenward, show that they are dedicated to God. The bell summons us to enter, and we do so; and there, with suppressed breath, we listen to New England sermons, we join in New England psalms; we look around upon New England wives, New England husbands, New England children. Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Vermont, Maine, and New Hampshire are all represented there. If you visit, on God's holy day, the race course, the cock pit, the gambling saloon, the bawdy house, the plank road, you will not find there New England men or New England women, unless indeed they have wandered so long from their homes, that their early teachings have faded from their hearts, and their memories have grown dull and deaf to their mothers' prayers.

"Fifth. But we leave the house of God, and we enter the school houses of the city; and there what shall we show our guests, the passengers in the old Mayflower? If the mother of the Gracchi could point to her children when her ornaments were demanded, and say, 'These are my jewels,' so may San Francisco, when jeered at for her murders, her robberies, her