tragic case from the annals of La
Soledad. Long after the settlement there had been abandoned, and when
the buildings were falling to pieces, an old priest, Father Sarria,
still remained to minister to the bodily and physical wants of a handful
of wretched natives who yet haunted the neighborhood, and whom he
absolutely refused to forsake. One Sunday morning in August, 1833,
after his habit, he gathered his neophytes together in what was once the
church, and began, according to his custom, the celebration of the mass.
But age, suffering, and privation had by this time told fatally upon
him. Hardly had he commenced the service, when his strength gave way. He
stumbled upon the crumbling altar, and died, literally of starvation, in
the arms of those to whom for thirty years he had given freely whatever
he had to give. Surely these simple records of Christ-like devotion will
live in the tender remembrance of all who revere the faith that, linked
with whatever creed, manifests itself in good works, the love that
spends itself in service, the quiet heroism that endures to the end.

XI.

The California missions, though greatly varying of course in regard to
size and economy, were constructed upon the same general plan, in the
striking and beautiful style of architecture, roughly known as Moorish,
which the fathers transplanted from Spain, but which rather seems by
reason of its singular appropriateness, a native growth of the new
soil. The edifices which now, whether in ruins or in restoration, still
testify to the skill and energy of their pious designers, were in all
cases later, in most cases much later, than the settlements themselves.
At the outset, a few rude buildings of wood or adobe were deemed
sufficient for the temporary accommodation of priests and converts,
and the celebration of religious services. Then, little by little,
substantial structures in brick or stone took the place of these, and
what we now think of as the mission came into being.

The best account left us of the mission establishment in its palmy
days is that given by De Mofras in his careful record of travel and
exploration along the Pacific Coast; and often quoted as this has been,
we still cannot do better here than to translate some portions of it
anew. The observant Frenchman wrote with his eye mainly upon what was
perhaps the most completely typical of all the missions--that of San
Luis Rey. But his description, though containing a n