he drift
to the south began.

In 1862, when the Unitarian church in Stockton street near Sacramento
was found too small, it was determined to push well to the front of the
city's growth. Two lots were under final consideration, the northwest
corner of Geary and Powell, where the St. Francis now stands, and the
lot in Geary east of Stockton, now covered by the Whitney Building. The
first lot was a corner and well situated, but it was rejected on the
ground that it was "too far out." The trustees paid $16,000 for the
other lot and built the fine church that was occupied until 1887, when
it was felt to be too far down town, and the present building at
Franklin and Geary streets was erected. Incidentally, the lot sold for
$120,000.

The evolution of pavements has been an interesting incident of the
city's life. Planks were cheap and they held down some of the sand, but
they grew in disfavor. In 1864 the Superintendent of Streets reported
that in the previous year 1,365,000 square feet of planks had been laid,
and 290,000 square feet had been paved with cobbles, a lineal mile of
which cost $80,000. How much suffering they cost the militia who marched
on them is not reported. Nicholson pavement was tried and found wanting.
Basalt blocks found brief favor. Finally we reached the modern era and
approximate perfection.

Checker-board street planning was a serious misfortune to the city, and
it was aggravated by the narrowness of most of the streets. Kearny
Street, forty-five and one-half feet wide, and Dupont, forty-four and
one-half feet, were absurd. In 1865 steps were taken to add thirty feet
to the west side of Kearny. In 1866 the work was done, and it proved a
great success. The cost was five hundred and seventy-nine thousand
dollars, and the addition to the value of the property was not less than
four million dollars. When the work began the front-foot value at the
northern end was double that at Market Street. Today the value at Market
Street is more than five times that at Broadway.

The first Sunday after my arrival in San Francisco I went to the
Unitarian church and heard the wonderfully attractive and satisfying Dr.
Bellows, temporary supply. It was the beginning of a church connection
that still continues and to which I owe more than I can express.

Dr. Bellows had endeared himself to the community by his warm
appreciation of their liberal support of the Sanitary Commission during
the Civil War. The interchange