over all,
was the movable dome, with the great notch from top to bottom of its
curved surface, open to the sky, for the great telescope to reach
through; while the great instrument itself, in its huge proportions,
its intricate machinery, and the wonderful ease of its movements, as it
yielded to the slightest touch of a hand, seemed like some living
thing, some being of superior intelligence from some other sphere,
captive and at work for our pleasure and our profit. Who can ever
forget the mystery of it all in the silent darkness of that night!

But before looking through the great tube, the professor, with quite
unintended, but most dramatic effect, called our attention to a
black-looking object at the base of the great pier, on which the
telescope stands. It was like an altar, as we saw it in the dimness,
but a lantern flash upon the front showed us it was a monument above
the last resting-place of James Lick, by whose munificent bequest of
seven hundred thousand dollars, the Observatory on Mount Hamilton, with
all its wonderful instruments, has been established for all time.

It was a thrilling thing to see there in the dimness that plain,
unpretending tomb, and to read thereon the short and simple record:

JAMES LICK.

1796--1876.

But what a life story is revealed by the dash which separates those
figures, 1796--1876! Eighty years of toil and endurance, toil in early
youth, toil in manhood, toil in the midst of amassed wealth, until the
inevitable end at last came. He was born in Fredericksburg, Pa., where
he received a common school education. He learned the trade of an organ
builder and piano maker in Hanover, Pa. He went into business in
Baltimore, Md., and also in Philadelphia; but his destiny drove him
away to Buenos Ayres, to Valparaiso, and other places in South America,
until, in 1847, he settled in California, where he became interested in
real estate, and in due time amassed a large fortune. His strong face,
which greets one in bronze, at the Mount Hamilton Observatory, bespeaks
a powerful and stern character. He never married. He was deemed by
those who knew him to be "unlovable, eccentric, solitary, selfish, and
avaricious," but when this is said, the memory of it is somewhat
condoned, for there was a romance in the case--he was crossed in love.

It is hard to judge of such a man, and of such circumstances. He
certainly has made amends for all his shortcomings, or tried to, if
they were