. Historic buildings of America as seen and described by famous writers; . ht here to the edge of the wild Western world toring out and summon the heathen and the wanderer toworship the one true God. You enter the ruined church through a low, arched door-way. The broken font is still there, but the last drop ofholy water was spilled from it long ago. The mullionedwindows are of a quaint fan-like shape and the genial suntries to pierce through the grime and dust and send itsbeams dancing .over the crumbled ruin within. Thepainted wooden shrines of St. Joseph and St. Francis (whogave the settlem
. Historic buildings of America as seen and described by famous writers; . ht here to the edge of the wild Western world toring out and summon the heathen and the wanderer toworship the one true God. You enter the ruined church through a low, arched door-way. The broken font is still there, but the last drop ofholy water was spilled from it long ago. The mullionedwindows are of a quaint fan-like shape and the genial suntries to pierce through the grime and dust and send itsbeams dancing .over the crumbled ruin within. Thepainted wooden shrines of St. Joseph and St. Francis (whogave the settlement of Yerba Buena the name of SanFrancisco) are still there. Near by are the Madonna andChild, but the paint has worn ofF and they are all dis-coloured and stained with the damp wind and the rainwhich drips, in the rainy season, from the dilapidated crumbling decorations, though they are of a rough,rude workmanship, still bear the stamp of artistic design,though crudely executed by unaccustomed hands, wholaboured for the love of God. It is about a hundred feet. oo O < a THE MISSION DOLORES, SAN FRANCISCO 55 from the threshold to the altar. Give reins to your imag-ination, set it galloping back a hundred years, and see thepriests, the white nuns, and hooded friars clustered roundthe empty altar busy in the service of the Lord ; the aislesfilled with kneeling Indians, who know little of the faiththey have adopted except that there is an unknown Godsomewhere who makes their corn grow, watches over theirlives here, with a promise of a life hereafter; men fromMexico, Peru, and Spain, and wanderers from all along thewild Pacific coast are standing reverently round; censers areswinging, lights are burning, and a choir of voices chantthe Ave Marias. A Christian host gathered in that wilder-ness by the sea. Where are they all now ? Vanished likethe children of a dream. A mouldy, funereal odour clings about the ruined walls,and we are glad to step out into the little graveya
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjecthistori, bookyear1906
