the Mexican Republic confiscated the Pious Fund, which had been collected originally by the Jesuits for the benefit of the California missions. When Santa Ana, the president of Mexico, ordered that sum turned into the public treasury, he bound his government to pay six per cent annually to the church of California. This fund still exists, and in time it will be of great financial help in extending the Catholic faith. According to a decision rendered on October 13, 1902, by the permanent Court of Arbitration at the Hague, Mexico is bound to pay to the church in California $1,460,682 back interest and the sum of $43,050 annually forever. Although the mission lands are held by other people and the Indian neophyte is no longer to be seen, yet the old mission buildings are the most conspicuous remnants of the early Spanish and Mexican domination. Consequently they continue to exert a spiritual and religious influence that cannot be estimated. Santa Barbara and San Luis Rey are occupied at the present time by Franciscan friars, who still work to spread the Roman Catholic faith in this state. Santa Clara is now another center of Catholic influence, and its university, although in the hands of the Jesuits, still maintains the early tradition of its founders for advancement and civilization. The nomenclature of the mission era is so indelibly impressed upon California that it can never be effaced, and produces a fine spirit of toleration. Its influence has been lasting and uplifting beyond a doubt. Everywhere the mission and pueblo, the rancho and hacienda were baptized with the name of a saint of the church, and as the settlements grew and prospered the streets and public places were called after holy men and women. These names— Santa Rosa, Santa Ana, Santa Margarita, Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz, Santa Ynez, Santa Clara, Santa María, San Diego, San Francisco, San Gabriel, San Rafael, San Carlos, San Fernando, San Antonio, and many others that might be mentioned-are not only euphonious but also educational and inspiring. Even the valleys and mountains, the rivers and harbors, in fact the whole land has been placed under the care and patronage of the saints of the Roman Catholic church. For many years the missions were allowed to go to ruin, and no one thought of or cared for them. Nevertheless their subtle influences were slowly permeating the lives of the passive Californians, although unperceived, like a smouldering fire, until about two decades ago they suddenly burst into flame. All at once the people became conscious of their magnificent heritage, and their enthusiasm for everything of the old days began. The Californian saw in her past history wonderful possibilities to increase the picturesque charm and individualism of the Golden State, and he quickly brought about what might almost be called a Mission Renaissance. This renewal of interest in the old missions was in no sense a religious revival, for the Roman Catholic church has done little, if anything, to further the movement. It was really a spontaneous burst of a growing state patriotism that sought concrete expression. After its inception it was not long before the most enthusiastic disciples of the new movement organized to obtain tangible results. There sprang up almost immediately numerous landmarks clubs, which were finally consolidated into the well-known California Historical Landmarks League, organized in 1902 for this avowed purpose: "To preserve the historical landmarks of the State, notably the missions, and to encourage research and study of Californian history.' The fraternal orders of the Native Sons and Native Daughters of the Golden West, as well as the various women's organizations and outdoor art leagues, have joined in the work of saving old landmarks. All the mission buildings are being repaired and restored, and along with this restoration of the old structures comes the revival of interest in the highway that once connected the missions like beads on a string. El Camino Real, or El Camino del Rey, as it was called, had almost faded from existence. It is true that the Southern Pacific Railroad Company had chosen essentially the same route, but the precise trails traversed by the padres had been largely forgotten. Indeed, in some cases they are today still a matter of conjecture, and an association exists for the sole purpose of marking out as correctly as possible the original road by means of wayside bells hung from iron posts. The idea of reviving this old highway has caught the fancy of the present-day Californian and has stimulated popular imagination to an amazing degree. So intense has the interest in this historic trail become that, at the earnest solicitation of the various clubs and associations organized chiefly to effect its restoration, El Camino Real has been incorporated into and forms no unimportant part of the great State Highway now under construction. In spite of all that is being done, the old mission buildings are fast disappearing before the relentless advance of a cynical and materialistic century. Some have already crumbled into decay, while others have been much transformed in the well-meant attempt to preserve them. Several of the mission churches are still used for worship under charge of parochial clergy. In all the secularization measures of the California governors the churches had been expressly reserved for worship, and the ownership of them and of the residences had been vested in the Catholic diocese. Bishop Alemany, who was appointed bishop of California in 1850, obtained possession of the few which had been occupied by squatters during the confusion of the American invasion. There was little difficulty in recovering a title to them because the material value was in every case inconsiderable. The mission churches of San Buenaventura, Santa Ynez, San Miguel, San Luis Obispo, and San Juan Bautista are still in daily use, although more or less altered by repairs and additions of the last sixty years. At Carmel Mission, the burial place of Fathers Serra, Crespi, and Lasuen, and at Dolores Mission in San Francisco the churches are preserved and are used for worship on certain occasions. At San Rafael and Santa Cruz the mission buildings have disappeared. Soledad and La Purísima exist only as adobe ruins and are deserted. At Sonoma the church and part of the other buildings are in use, but only as storehouses. Of the mission at San Diego, the oldest of them all, there remains only the front wall, but an Indian boarding school on the mission grounds maintains its old traditions. Mission San José has a new church on the site of the mission buildings. There is a chapel used for service at Pala, the dependent mission of San Luis Rey. Santa Clara has preserved still the old church much restored, in front of which is the original mission cross. Santa Barbara and San Gabriel stand today in their pristine glory as monuments to the greatness of the past. San Juan Capistrano and San Fernando are impressive sights with their churches in ruins, although in each case some of the adjoining mission buildings are used at the present time. These historic landmarks are still a vital factor in California life, and yearly they attract thousands of tourists who contribute to the material well-being of the various sections of the state. The missions have been so broadly advertised by the transportation companies that they are now almost as well known as the cathedrals of England or the churches of Rome. Local communities and railroad companies reap material benefits, while the tourist, if he be of a reverent or romantic turn of mind, draws deep inspiration from the history of the past. William Henry Hudson thus describes the charm that still hovers about the crumbling walls: "The missions of California passed away leaving behind them practically nothing but a memory-yet this is surely a memory to be cherished by all who feel a pious reverence for the past. . . . Alike for those who live beneath the blue skies of California and for those who wander awhile among her scenes of wonder and enchantment, the old mission buildings will be objects of curious and unique interest-survivals from a by-gone era-not only of the purposes of their founders but of the faith which built the great cathedrals of Europe. A tender sentiment clings about them-in their enclosures we breathe a drowsy old-world atmosphere of peace. To linger within their walls or to muse in their graveyards is to step out of the noisy present into the silence of departed years where everything is of yesterday and whose marvelous natural beauty is but rarely touched by the associations of history or the charms of romance. These things have a subtle and peculiar power-a magic not to be resisted by any one who turns from the highways of the modern world to dream among the scenes where the old padres toiled and died, and as in his imagination he there calls up the ghostly figures of neophyte and soldier and priest-now busy with the day's task, now at twilight kneeling at the altar in the dimly lighted chapel as the murmur of strange voices and the faint music of bell or chant steal in upon his ears, he will hardly fail to realize that, however much or little the Franciscan missionaries accomplished for California, they have passed down to our prosaic after-generation a legacy of poetry, whereof the sweetness will not soon die away.' The influence of the outburst of admiration for the missions has affected even the business world. Clever farmers, merchants, manufacturers, and real estate men soon saw in it wonderful opportunities for novel advertising. The mission has almost become the symbol of California. As a result the old mission names are used to catch trade, and one can buy Pala peaches, a can of mission olives, a box of mission oranges, a "Sonoma Mission lot," or a home in St. Francis Woods. The realty company that placed the last-named tract on the market even went so far as to hold a competition for the best poster representing scenes from the life of the Saint of Assizi to be used on signboards. Curio dealers, too, have also taken advantage of this feeling, and as a consequence they have stocked their |