r two hours' sail from Manzanilla, we passed the wreck of the
steamer Golden Gate, which was burned some time since, causing the loss
of so many lives. Vessels are stationed there to procure treasure from
the wreck, and we received from them more than two hundred thousand
dollars to carry to San Francisco.

One of our officers was on the Golden Gate when it was burned, and he
told some thrilling stories of the disaster. A great many strong, grown
people were drowned in the terrible surf; yet one little baby, only six
weeks old, floated safely to the shore. God took care of her, you see.
The men carried her by turns, as they walked their weary way over the
mountains to Manzanilla, and fed her with scraped potato, a barrel of
potatoes having washed ashore.

How many sorrowful feelings were called up by the sight of that one
wheel lying on the beach; for that is all that is left of the ill-fated
Golden Gate! How many lives were lost in those peaceful waters over
which we were sailing so pleasantly! Our officers told us that it was
just such a bright, beautiful day; but the surf here is very high, and
with our glass we could see it foaming and tossing on the beach. In our
hearts many of us thanked God for our present safety, and prayed him to
save us from such a fate. Just before we neared the wreck, we passed by
some rocks on the coast, looking just like a ruined castle, with
beautiful green trees all around them, as if it were a nobleman's
garden.

It is not easy to keep the Sabbath properly on one of these ocean
steamers; for little distinction is observed in the days by the crew. We
did, however, the best we could. It seemed more like the Sabbath in the
evening, when a goodly number of us collected together in the saloon,
and sung hymns and tunes, just as many of us would have done were we in
our loved homes, so far away. That night we commenced crossing the Gulf
of California, and all day Monday we saw no land. Almost every evening
we walked upon the upper deck, which was a very fine promenade three
hundred and seventy feet long.

Tuesday we saw Cape St. Lucas, which you know is the end of the long
peninsula of California, and were in sight of the shore all the way
after that. I was constantly surprised at the grandeur of this western
coast, with its magnificent chains of mountains, rising peak above peak,
and fleecy clouds resting on their summits. There was no break in these
chains all the way to San Francisco. I