guage of Californian philosophers, it will be observed,
is more forcible than elegant. " If you want office,"
continued Pickett, "cheat at poker, brawl o' nights,
murder a man or two, show your breadth at bribery,
— -anything rather than display such weak imperfec-
tions as honor, honesty, and good character. Our
letjislators will none of these."
Many a walking romance, many an epic m flaunt- ing robes or rags has wandered these hills. Far be- yond the limits of human habitations, on the top of a mound surrounded by what was called the Doomed valley, there once lived a personage known as the Old Man of the Mountain. No one knew his name, or who he was, or whence he came. He was absent all day, no one knew where, returning regularly at night, and he was never seen to cook or eat anything. The scattered cooking utensils appeared never to have been used by him. Finally he vanished as mysteriously as he had come. How many hermits have walked the streets of this strange city, and how many hermitages have there been in unfurnished rooms and boarding- house garrets !
In common with men true to themselves, the intel- ligent, the honest, the faithful of every nation, California became the rendezvous of prize-fighters, thieves, gamblers, and murderers. Convicts came over from Australia, bold desperadoes of the order of Saint Giles, and outlaws from various parts. It was the paradise of the disgraced, the bankrupt, the de- faulter, the felon. But happily these were a short- lived race, and there was enough of a difl'erent element at first to leaven the mass, and finally, in the shape of vigilance committees, to purify it. Then there were numberless intermediate and less influential grades, such as would-be leaders of cliques,- who conceived it their mission to enlighten mankind and exalt them- selves; exquisites, gentlemen by profession, and by profession only, whose feathers were speedily plucked by humbug-haters, who grew apace in the congenial
