ruel story, and so varied in version that the student of sacred legend
gets decidedly puzzled. The fair-haired daughter was advised secretly by
Origen, who sent a pupil disguised as a physician to instruct her in the
Christian faith. She insisted on putting three windows instead of two
into the bathroom of the tower to which her father sent her, either to
prevent her from marrying or to imprison her until she would wed one of
the many gay young suitors. These three windows showed her belief in the
Trinity, which she could not have learned from Origen, as among
Christians he was regarded as heretical, and his followers were
Unitarians and Universalists combined, adding the cheerful theory of the
"second opportunity" and that all punishment from sin would have an end,
yet clinging to the old pagan mythology and believing that sun, moon,
stars, and the ocean all had souls--a "Neo-Platonist."

Refusing to recant, Barbara was arraigned and condemned to death. Her
energetic paternal evidently had heard the maxim, "If you want anything
done, do it yourself." His heavy blows fell soft as feathers. She seemed
in sweet slumber. So he drew his sword, cut off her head, and was
instantly killed by lightning from Heaven. Thus ends the history of two
"Early Fathers."

But sweet St. Barbara will never be forgotten. She is the patroness of
artillery soldiers, and protects from lightning and sudden death. In the
many pictures where she appears she carries a feather, or the martyr's
sword and palm, or a book; and the three windows are often seen. She is
the only Santa who bears the cup and wafer.

The appreciative Spaniards honored her memory by bestowing her pretty
name on the choicest spot of the coast, a belt of land seventy miles
long and thirty-five wide, from Point Concepcion to Buena Ventura. No
one can dare to doubt this tragic tale, for Barbara's head may still be
seen preserved as a relic in the temple of All Saints at Rome. I do not
want to be too severe in my estimate of the Roman noble, Dioscurus. An
old lady who never spoke ill of any one, when called upon to say
something good of the devil, said, "We might all imitate his
persistence;" and this impulsive demon was certainly a creature who, if
he had an unpleasant duty confronting him, attended to it himself.

The first navigator who landed on the coast of Santa Barbara, or on one
of the four islands, was Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo, in 1542. He is buried
on San Miguel (prono