The Sun.
London, England, 1849-01-11 00:00:00

PEDESTRIANISM.

Beddington Corner, Surrey, was on Tuesday the scene
of a trio of pedestrian performances, in the first couple of
which a love of order and fair play predominated, which
we should have felt more gratified to have seen main-
tained to the conclusion of the sports. The first race
was started a little after three o'clock, being that of
J. PERKINS AND H. BULL, FOR 101. ASlDE.—These
. _

lads, both of the Surrey shore of the Thames, had
articled to run four miles for the above sum, and the
betting ranged from 5 to 4 to 6 to 4 on Bull, who was
some inches the lesser man. Thjs preference was, we
believe, based not only on his public running, bat his
private trial., wherein he was confidently stated to have
proved a clipper. The road, on the present occasion,
certainly gave little opportunity for any man to display
" flying' qualities, unless he could actually, as well as
figuratively, leave the earth ; for a stickier and' more
rotten piece of the surface of our planet, so far .as it is
intersected by turnpike roads, has seldom been paced
over in a running match. In dry or frosty weather the
Surrey roads are assuredly good, but in most seasons of
our moist climate, the Middlesex bank of the Thames
bears the palm in soundness and bottom of the Qtieen's
highway. Well, then, at the hour above named off 'they
went, running a measured mile from mine host Att-
ridge's, the Queen's Head, towards Mitcham, and re-
turning to the scratch, where they finished at the second
return. The race began. by Bull taking a slight-lead,
which he gradually iuq,roved up to three-quarters.of a
mile, when he was 20 yards in front ; at the mile he
turned about the same distance in advance. At two
mils he was 40 yards, at three miles 100 yards, and
shortly after the third mile, all hope of Perkins catching
him being over, the latter slackened his speed, and Bull
ran in 130 to 200 yards a winner. The losing man,
though outpaced, certainly struggled very gamely.
NOWLAN AND GWEN.—Thi. was a wager, the novelty
of which occasioned some speculations as well as merri-
ment. Wm. Nowlan, of the Borough, was matched
against Owen, a smart youth of Kensington, to run SO
yards, carrying 2 cwt., while Owes should run 100
yards, the men to start together. To the surprise of
the uninitiated, who expected some such experiment as
the shoulder strap and loaded belt, the weight-carrying
competitor, a miniature copy of the Farnese Hercules,
showed at the scratch (midway of the hundred yards)
with a porter's knot, whereon, a few seconds previous to
the signal, he cart fully poised a duly weighed sack of
" murphies," ti.e pounds avoirdupoise of which we will
answer for, though we must decline going bail for their
quality. Well, away went the pair, Misther Nowlan
digging his heels furiously into the yielding road,' and
working away his short balustrade sort of legs "like
winking," as a bystander expressed it. Young Owen,
however, was after him, anti' that at a skimming-pace,

at twenty yards from home he bad got within ten yards
of the potatoe-bearing atlas, and five yards from the.goal
ran up to him, finishing two yards in front.
JAMES SEARLES AND WILLIAM O'CONNOR, KOUR
MILES, FOR 10/.—These Bermondsey lads, oveip% to
sundry delays, consumed daylight to su9y an extent
that a very small modfcutn remained whereth sieefators,
to say nothing of umpires and referees,, could faiirly see
their style of walking. It was a few' mintiteirld five
whew they went off, Searles leading at a goat bat,
O'Connor (better known by the name of Feargui) in
pretty close attendance, though there was no!` waiting"
in it,.for the referee had twice to call, on .Searlpa in the
first three-quarters of a mile, who turned
,ae,cmlipgly•
This, however, did not bring the M.P.'s
nam,esre wuch
nearer, and at one mile he was thirty }'aids,per hind—
fs
time 8 min. 49 secs. At the' second bearlei till-it-0
yet
further in front—titre 17 minutes 40.-Secbhas.',..Tiii the
third mile O'Connor pulled foot, indeed it wiis fondly
,assarted I:te'ilratit;-- or -,are' auto' after- the 'turn
down for the fourth lnile Itto &id's(); ITb
',bon e'aught
Searles and:passed-bhp Arad we are as equally i4ll as-
sured that Searles theneleparted-from the Lim- -..(34 fair
toe and heel walking. •The time-bf O'Connor, 40:raven'
in first, was 35 minutes 51 seconds.: After ikjitormy
dicussion,, the referees decided, that ,a,s,i_l44i tn had
run, and each, at different points of not
turned when called on, that the affair was drawit, :Beta
.1
are accordingly off, and stakes must
a renewed match can be agreed-on.' 1?"." -;
-The
race JOHNSON AND W. PAYfii'TOR-Vol.:est64,;M-Ine
race of two miles between. the Ptibdfetleff; the fiat-Com-
paratively unknown te-fame;,the such:ld/Often b'isfore the
public by his namn.of Rodwell, •as well e..that-afiliyne,
took place on Tuescleyateranford-bridge... The betting
was 5 and 6 to 4 on Payne—nay, so conftcleVt;lntgre the
start. that they ventured 2..t0 1 a feii,seeQP4A.Rit'er --
start. The ground was from the Whit.lgl(44 Blileout
and turn. The men went 'oft togktVaTd?i,Avmottling
pace, Payne leading for half a mile;. JrOlipay.teftraysnrci
it might be seen, several tithes ranupAciVultghinson
then tell back. Just before the tarn of
took up the running, and toed-tine.rnarlFE HPthen
put on the steam, and by the time he•bild ran gr, yards
tem full of
of the second mile Payne gave.ii4•j°b""n
-hbpelies.
• running, and the stern chase .being evidently

a:h.s
tuh subject of °
trancet
ptthue
41, Which
fr---------iiii •-4t: Pl' es fl
RESTORATION OF .ELY vATO-B- , ;.• .
on t" -
much pleasure to report progress
rapidlY *Piing
decorative restorations which inaitairngenti:fiecene:
into a " thing of beauty
cu olnes ti t
glassu te s the ebh
ei n
hfjgg
wiltlhobij.
fi,,,,:x-s.treiere. --sa
toe:int ionrniyadi itodOv
iol B.uilsre.nsitliidel:rsft..:_le.
p fundsr e soon
sse
daarsteht
nhe
ieobrtur
iteynpenit
repairs
nrntssdtuilaf
sufficient
gentlemen
f completed.
that
lowing facts will
for the bishops d .
north triforium,
' Th.' i* e .itictinbents of
and d• .
a 'window.
tro„es diocese of the B.
.in'iki-aouth
livings in the subscriptionPa for • 181SbP 4f EIY
have op
and a .
the incumbents of lit,. • - •
transept; .
the
diocese
e unthdeert:oenimtaline
mg:: in his Lordship's
putroulge,
windows in the eighth transept will be his
Norman window, Th
fourth
e glass for -both, is or-
dered of M. erente, so
cient to pay for the glass, it i
":11
to be hoped that thosewort. ‘
.The
who have'not yet ex-
pressed
Mr. Warrington, the artist, subscribingha .willed Coamweifnodrowwarin
the south aisle. The Rev. ChasnpcerlolmorisSparke has'also
promised a window, and there are subscriptions for a
visitors' window
and an ordinatiorwindow. There
are also reports of other subscriptions. The gentleman
to whom we are indebted for communicaiing. these
facts says that if a few energetic friends would form a
committee, and undertake the work, another large lan-
tern window might be filled by the Masters of Arts. A
very small sum—not more than 11., or even Ift—would
be quite sufficient to procure funds for the purpose.
There would then be only one window left, which might
be filled by the noblemen or doctors ; and
then this splendid part of the magnificent
cathedral would be complete. We have only to add
that the Dean of Ely's and Mr. Cooke's windows for the
south-west transept are being prepared by Mr. Wailes,
to whom the cathedral is indebted for the glass in the
south aisle, containing the history of St. Bede. Mr.
Wailes has been again to the Continent, expressly for
the purpose of examining the glass of the 13th century.
We hope that a mere hint is sufficient to provoke to ea
laudable co-operation, and even to create considerable
rivalry and emulation in contributing to this work,—
Cambridge and Ely Advertiser.
The circulation of forged= notes of the of
England appears to be greatly on the increase, and it
would seem they are exceedingly well executed, so much
so as to deceive good judges. It is suspected that the
plates are engraved abroad ; but although the police
and the authorities have been unremitting-in -their en-
deavours to trace out the offenders, it has been hitherto
lle Jou
without succeee.—Arficceo4 rhea.

ALTA CALIFORNIA ;OR THE 1
NEW GOLD REGION.
From the geographical memoir upon Alta Califor-
nia (the California acquired by the late treaty with
Mexico) addressed by Lieutenant-Colonel Fremont
So the Senate, at the last session of Congress, v7e
make a few extracts descriptive of the country :
Alta California is divided into two parts the
lash= and Western. The Eastern portion, lying
betwesa the Rocky Mountains on the east, and the
great range of the Sierra Nevadalon the west, compre-
hends an area of about 500 square miles, and saving
the region around the Great Salt Lake in the north-
east corner, and a few green spots along the flanks of
the Western Mountains, is a howling desert of burning
sands, bald mountains, and is covered with evidences of
volcanic action. It comprehends five-sixths of the terri-
tory of California, as acquired from Mexico. The only
white settlement within its limits is the Mormon colony
near the great Salt Lake. The Great Basin is sur-
rounded by
.mountains on all sides, and the rivers
which flow into it from the mountains empty into
lakes the waters of which are evaported in the sun,
as a substitute for an outlet to the sea, or the streams
are absorbed by the sands of the desert; as, for in-
stance, Mary's river, after a course of 300 miles, sud-
denly sinks into the sands, its waters as thick and
bitter as bitumen, from the impregnations of its
volcanic trail. (4ee the journal of Mr. Bryant, who
went out to the Pacific by that route.)
The western division of California lies west of the
great range of the Sierra Nevada, and between it and
tilt.- Pacific Ocean. Excepting the Mormons, near the
Salt Lake, which trenches upon Oregon, in the
eastern basin, this western section is the only part of
California with which the army, navy, and settlers
from the United States have had anything to do. All
the accouunts we have had of California, from time
immemorial, apply to the slip of country flanking the
Pacific Ocean. We now come to the extracts from
Lieut.-Colonel Fremont : •

SIERRA NEVADA
This Sierra is part. of the great mountain range
which, under different names and with different ele-
vations, but with much uniformity of direction and
general proximity to the coast, extends from the pe-
ninsula of California to Russian America, and with-
out a gap in the distance through which the water of
the Rocky Mountains could reach the Pacific Ocean,
except at the two places were the Columbia and
Frazer's river respectively find their passage. This
great range is remarkable i`or its length, its proximity
and parellelisni to the sea coast, its great elevation,
often more lofty than the Rocky Mountains, and its
many grand volcanic peaks, reaching high into the
region of perpetual snow. Ri-dng singly, like pyre-
mids from heavily timbered plateaux, to the height
of fourteen and seventeen thousand feet above the sea,
these snowy peaks cons'itute the characterizing
feature of the range, and distinguish it from the
Rocky Mountains and all others on our part of the
continent.
That part of this range which traverses the Alta Ca-
lifornia is called the Sierra Nevada (Snowy Mountain)
—a name in itself implying a great elevation, as it is
only applied, in Spate,' geography, to the mountains
whose summits penetrate the region of perpetual
snow. It is a grand feature of California, and a do-
minating one, and must be well understood before
the structure of the country and the character of its
different divisions can be comprehended. It divides
California into two parts, and exercises a decided in-
fluence on the climate, soil, and productions of each.
Stretching along the coast, and at the general distance
of 160 miles from it, this great mountain wall re-
ceives the warm winds, charged with vapour, which
sweeps across the Pacific Ocean, precipitates their ac-
cumulated moisture in fertilizing rains and snows
upon its western flank, and leaves cold and dry winds
to pass on to the east. Hence the characteristic dif-
ferences of the two regions—mildness, fertility, and a
superb vegetable kingdom on one side; comparative
barreness and cold on the other.
The two sides of the Sierra exhibit two distinct
climates. The state of vegetation, in connexion with
some thermometrical observations made during the
recent exploring expedition to California, will esta-
blish and illustrate this difference. In the beginning
of December, 1845, we crossed this Sierra, at let. 39
deg. 7.12, at the present usual emigrant pass, at the
head of the Salmon Trout River, forty miles north of
New Helvetia, and made observations at each base,
and in the same latitude, to determine the respective
temperatures, the two bases being, respectively, the
weatern, about 500, and the eastern, about 4,000 feet
above the level of the sea ; and the pass, 7,200 feet.
The mean results of the observations were, on the
eastern side, at sunrise, 30 deg. ; the state of vege-
tation and the appearance of the country being
at the same `time (second week of December),
that of confirmed winter, the rivers frozen
over, snow on -the ridges, annual plants dead,
grass dry, and deciduous trees stripped of their foliage.
At the western base the mean temperature during a
corresponding week was, at sunrise 29 deg., and at
sunset 52 deg.; the state of the atmosphere and of
vegetation that of advancing spring ; grass fresh and
green, four to eight inches high, vernal plants in
bloom, the air soft, and all the streams free from ice.
Thus, December on one side of the mountain was
winter, on the other it was spring.
MARITIMR REGION WEST Of TIIE SIERRA NEVADA.
West of the Sierra Nevada, and between that
mountain and the sea, is the second grand division of
California, and the only part to which the name an-
plies in the current language of the country. It is
the occupied and inhabited part, and so different in
character, so divided by the mountain wall of the
Sierra from the great basin above, as to consti-
tute a region to itself, with a structure and configu-
ration, a soil, climate, and productions of its own ;
and as Northern Persia may be referred to as some
type of the former, so may Italy be referred to as some
point of comparison for the latter. North and south,
this region embraces about ten degrees of latitude—
from 32 degrees, where it touches the peninsula
of California, to 42 degrees, where it bounds on
Oregon. East and west, from the Sierra Nevada to
the sea, it will average in the middle parts 150 miles,
in the northern parts, 200 ; giving an area of above
one hundred thousand miles. Looking westward
from the summit of the Sierra, the main feature pre-
sented is the long, low, broad valley of the Joaquin
and Sacramento rivers—the two valleys forming one
—five hundred miles long, and fifty broad, lying
along the base of the Sierra, and bounded to the west
by the low coast range of mountains which separates
it from the sea. Long dark lines of timber indicate
the streams, and bright spots mark the intervening
plains. Lateral ranges, paralleled to the Sierra
Nevada and the coast, make the structure of the coun-
try, and break it into a surface of valleys and moun-
tains—the valleys a few hundred, and the mountains
2,000 to 4,000 feet above the sea. These form greater
muses, and become more elevated in the north, where
some peaks, as the Shasti, enter the regions of perpe-
tual snow. Stretched along the mild coast of the Pacific,
with a general elevation in its plains and valleys of
only a few hundred feet above the level of the sea
—and backed by the long and lofty wall of the
Sierra—mildness and geniality may be assumed as
the characteristics of its climate. The inhabitant of
corresponding latitudes on the Atlantic side of this
continent can with difficulty conceive of the soft air
and southern productions under the same latitudes in
the maritime region of Upper California. The sin-
gular beauty and purity of the sky in the south of
this region is characterised by Humboldt as a rare
phenomenon, and all travellers realise the truth of
his description.
The present condition of the country affords but
slight data for forming correct opinions of the agri-
cultural capacity and fertility of the soil. Vancouver
found, ati the mission of San Buonaventura, in 1792,
latitude 34 deg. 16 min., apples, pears, plums, figs,
oranges, grapes, peaches, and pomegranates growing
• together with the plantain, banana, cocoa-nut, sugar
cane, and indigo, all yielding fruit in abundance, and
of excellent quality. Humboldt mentions the olive
oil of California as equal to that of Andalusia, and
t eWine like that of the Canary Islands. At present
bat little remains of the high and various cultivation
which had been attained at the missions. Under
the mild and paternal administration of the
,‘ fathers," the docile character of the Indians was
made available for labour, and thousands were em-
ployed in the fields, the orchards, and the vineyards.
At present, but little of this former cultivation is
seen. The fertile valleys are overgrown with wild
mustard ; vineyards and olive orchards, decayed and
neglected, are among the remaining vestiges; only in
some places do we see the evidences of what the
country is capable. At San Buonaventura we found
the olive trees, in January, bending under the weight
of neglected fruit ; and the mission of San Luis
Obispo (latitude 35 deg.) is still distinguished for the
excellence of its olives, considered finer and larger
than those of the Mediterranean.
The productions of the south differ from those of
the north and of the middle. Grapes, olives, Indian
corn have been its staples, with many assimilated
fruits and grains. Tobacco has been recently intro-
duced, and the uniform summer heat which follows
the wet season, and is uninterrupted by rain, would
make the southern country well adapted to cotton.—
Wheat is the first product of the north, where it
always constituted the principal cultivation of the
missions. This promises to be the grain-growing
region of California. The moisture of the coast seems
particularly suited to the potato and to the vegetables
common to the United States, which grow to an
extraordinary size.
Perhaps few parts of the world can produce in such
perfection so great a variety of fruits and grains as the
large and varied region enclosing the bay of San
Francisco, and drained by its waters. A view of the
map will show that region and its great extent, com-
prehending the entire valleys of the Sacramento and
San Joaquin, and the whole western slope of the
Sierra Nevada. General phrases fail to give precise
ideas, end I hive recourse to the notes in my Journal

to show its climate and productions, by the test of the
thermometer and the state of the vegetable kingdom.
VALLEYS Or THB SACRAMENTO AND SAN JOAQUIN.
These valleys are one, discriminated only by the
names of the rivers which traverse it. It is a single
valley—a single geographical formation—near 500
miles long, lying at the western base of the Sierra
Nevada, and between it and the coast range of moun-
tains, and stretching across the head of the bay of
San Francisco, with which a delta of 25 miles con-
nects it. The two rivers, San Joaquin and Sacra-
mento, rise at opposite ends of this long valley, receive
numerous streams, many of them bold rivers, from
the Sierra Nevada, become themselves navigable
rivers, flow towards each other, meet half way, and
enter the bay of San Francisco together, in the region
of tide water, making a continuous water line from

one end to the other.
The valley of the San Joaquin is about 300 miles
long and 60 broad, between the slopes of the coast
mountain and the Sierra Neveda, with a general ele-
vation of only a few hundred feet above the level of
the sea. It presents a variety of soil, from dry and
unproductive to well watered and luxuriantly fertile.
Yhe eastern (which is the fertile) side of the valley
is intersected with numerous streams, forming large
and very beautiful bottoms of fertile land, wooded
principally with white oaks', (quercus longiglanda,
Torr, and Frem) in open groves of handsome trees,
~fren five or six feet in diameter, and 60 to 80 feet
high. Only the larger streams, which are 50 to 150
yards wide, and drain the upper parts of the moun-
tains, pass entirely across the valley forming the
'l'ullare lakes and the San Joaquin river, which, in
the rainy season, make a continuous stream from the
head of the valley to the bay. The foot hills of the
Sierra Neveda, which limit the valley, make a wood-
' land country, diversified with undulating grounds and
pretty valleys, and watered with small streams, which
reach only a few miles beyond the hills, the springs
which supply them not being covered enough
to carry them across the plains. These afford
many advantageous spots for farms, making some-
times large bottoms of rich moist land. The rolling
surface of the hills presents sunny exposures, shel-
tered from the winds, and, having a highly favourable
climate and suitable soil, are considered to be well
adapted to the cultivation of the grape, and will pro-
bably become the principal vine-growing region of
California. The uplands bordering the valleys of the
large streams are usually wooded with evergreen oaks,
and the intervening plains are timbered with groves
or belts of evergreen and white oaks, among prairie
nd open land. The surface of the valley consists of
plains along the Tullare lakes and San Joaquin
river, changing into undulating and rolling ground
nearer the foot hills of the mountains.
VALLEY OE THE SACRAMENTO.

The northern half of the valley of Alta California
s watered by the Sacramento, which runs down
south into the Bay of San Francisco, while the San
Joaquin comes into it from the southern extremity,
flowing westward, and meeting the Sacramento in
the bay, which is nearly in the middle of the valley.
The valley of the Sacramento is divided into upper
and lower—the lower two hundred miles long, the
upper about one hundred; and the latter not merely
entitled to the distinction of upper, as being higher
up on the river, but also as having a superior eleva-
tion of some thousands of feet above it. The division
is strongly and geographically marked. The Shasti
peak stands at the head of the lower valley, in the
forks of the river, rising from a base of about 1,000
feet, out of a forest of heavy timber. It ascends like
an immense column upwards of 14,000 feet
(nearly the height of Mont Blanc), the summit
glistening with snow, and visible, from favourable
points of view, at a distance of 140 miles down the
valley. The river here, in descending from the
upper valley, plunges down through a canon, falling
2,000 feet in twenty miles. This upper valley is 100
miles long, heavily timbered, the climate and produc-
tions modified by its altitude, its more northern
position, and the proximity and elevation of the neigh-
bouring mountains covered with snow. It contains
valleys of arable land, and is deemed capable of
settlement.
WESTERN SLOPE OF THE SIERRA NEVADA.

The western flank of the Sierra belongs to the
maritime region of California, and is capable of add-
ing greatly to its value. It is a long wide slope,
timbered and grassy, with intervals of arable land,
copiously watered with numerous and bold streams,
and without the cold which its name and altitude
might imply. In length it is the whole extent of the
long valley at its base, five hundred miles. In breadth
it is from forty to seventy miles, from the summit of
the mountain to the termination of the foot hills iu
the edge of the valleys below, and almost the whole
Hof it available for some useful purpose—timber, pas-
turage, some arable land, mills, quarries—and so
situated as to be convenient for use, the wide slope of
the mountain being of easy and practicable descent.
Timber holds the first place in the advantages of this
-lope, the whole being heavily wooded, first with
-aks, which predominate to about half the eleva-
tion of the mountain, and then with pines, cypress,
and cedars, the pine predominating ; and hence
called the pine region, as that below is called the
~ak region, though mixed with other trees.
fhe highest summits of the Sierra are naked,
massive granite rock, covered with snow, in sheltered
;laces all the year round. The oaks are several va-
rieties white and black oak, and evergreens, some of
them resembling live oak. Of the white oak there
are some new species, attaining a handsome elevation,
upon a stem six feet in diameter. Acorns of uncom-
mon size, and not bad taste, used regularly for food,
by the Indians, abound on these trees, and will be
of great value for stock. The cypress, pines, and
cedar, are between 100 and 250 feet high, and five
to twelve feet in diameter, with clean solid stems.
Grass abounds on almost all parts of the slope, except
towards the highest summits, and is fresh and green
all the year round, being neither killed by cold in the
winter, nor dried by want of rain in the summer. The
Coot hills of the slope are sufficiently fertile and
gentle to admit of good settlements, while valleys,
coves, beaches, and meadows of arable land are found
throughout. Many of the numerous streams, some
of them amounting to considerable rivers which flow
down the mountain side, make handsome, fertile
valleys. All these streams furnish good water power.
The climate in the lower part of the slope is that of
constant spring, while above the cold is not in pro-
portion to the elevation.
BAY or SIN FRANCISCO AND DIPENDIINT COUNTRY.
The bay of San Francisco has been celebrated,
from the time of its first discovery, as one of the
finest in the world, and is justly entitled to that cha•
ratter, even under the seaman's view of a mere har-
bour. But when all the necessary advantages which
belong to it—fertile and picturesque dependent coun-
try, mildness and salubrity of climate, connexion
with the great interior valley of the Sacramento and
San Joaquin, its vast resources for ship timber, grain,
and cattle, when these advantages are taken into the
account, with its geographical position on the line of
communication with Asia, it rises into an importance
far above that of a mere harbour, and deserves a
particular notice in any account of maritime Cali-
fornia. Its latitudinal position is that of Lisbon ; its
climate is that of southern Italy ; settlements upon it
for more than half a century attest its healthful-
ness; bold shores and mountains give it grandeur;
the extent and fertility of its dependent country give
it great resources for agriculture, commerce, and
population.
The bay of San Francisco is separated from the
sea by low mountain ranges. Looking from the peaks
of the Sierra Nevada, the coast mountains present an
apparently continuous line, with only a single gap,
resembling a mountain pass. This is the entrance to
the great bay, and is the only water communication
from the coast to the interior country. Approaching
from the sea, the coast presents a bold outline. On
the south, the bordering mountains come down
in a narrow ridge of broken hills, terminating
in a precipitous point, against which the sea breaks
heavily. On the northern side, the mountain presents
a bold promontory, rising in a few miles to a height
of two or three thousand feet. Between these points
is the strait—about one mile broad in the narrowest
pert, and five miles long from the sea to the bay.
Passing through this gate,* the bay opens to the
right and left, extending in each direction
about thirty-five miles, having a total length of
more than seventy, and a coast of about 275 miles. It
is divided by straits and projecting points into three
separate bays, of which the northern two are called
San Pablo and Suisoon bays. Within, the view
presented is of a mountainous country, the bay re-
sembling an interior lake of deep water, lying between
parallel ranges of mountains. Islands, which have
the bold character of the shores—some mere masses of
rock, and others grass-covered, rising to the height
of three and eight hundred feet, break its surface,
and add to its picturesque appearance. Directly
fronting the entrance, mountains, a few miles from
the shore, rise about 2,000 feet above the water,
crowned by a forest of the lofty cypress, which is
visible from the sea, and makes a conspicuous land-
mark for vessels entering the bay. Behind, the
rugged peak of Mount Diavolo, nearly 4,000 feet
bayb aya and
derives, S a n
high (3.770), overlooks the surrounding country of
te
Joaquin. The immediate shore of
the
relation to the sea,ftrhoemname
pb rf oexein
tmraat e
oasnt
(ocpopuonsti
et er
coast, or opposite coast). It presents a varied
character of rugged and broken
richod e dranges,
hills rolling and
undulating land, andall u; i a
suitable s or es,
backed by fertile and w o

41 Called Chrysopyhe (golden gate) en the map, on
the same principle that the harbour of Byzantium
(Constantinople afterwards) was called Chrysoceras
(golden horn). The form of the harbour, and its ad-
vantages for commerce (and that before it became an
entrepOt of eastern commerce), suggested the name of
the Greek founders of Byzantium. The form of the
entrance into the bay of San Francisco, and its advan-
tages of commerce (Asiatic inclusive), suggest the name
which is given tc this entrance.

THE SEr N,