the Pacific, found time to turn around and form a state. The sterling merit of the Oregon pioneers of the '40s may be measured from the fact that the Oregonian who went to California on the discovery of gold in 1848-49 included a number of men, like Peter Burnett, who obtained honorable distinction in the history of California. The gold fever swept a vast immigration of all sorts to California within a few months, but as a whole it was far inferior in mental and moral quality to the men who laid the foundations of our great state.

Immigration steadily increased and the settlements gradually grew, so that all the woods and all the valleys became peopled. Only the bravest dared to undertake the long journey across the plains, and only the wisest and the strongest survived; hence Oregon was early peopled with the strongest, the wisest and the bravest of the new race. And while there may have been no Moses, no Caesar, no Cromwell among them, there was a large sprinkling of such men as Joe Meek, Gray the historian, United States Senator Nesmith, Governor Abernethy, General Joseph Lane, Doctor Laughlin, and Applegate, the sage of Yoncolla-men with warm hearts, teeming brains, skillful hands, and sinewy arms. And the women were the daughters of the women who came in the Mayflower, and they were like unto them. They spun and wove, and in any home you might have seen a Priscilla with her wheel and distaff as of old.

And, although the legends of our Aldens and Priscillas remain as yet unwritten and unsung, our own proud Oregon will some day raise up a Longfellow that will place these treasures among the classics of the age.

INFLUENCE OF SCENERY.

Critics tell us that literature is rather an image of the spiritual world, than of the physical-of the internal, rather than the external-that mountains, lakes, and rivers, are after all only its scenery and decorations, not its substance and essence. And it is true that a man will not necessarily be a great poet because he lives at the foot of a great mountain-a Hood, a Jefferson, or a Shasta; nor being a poet, that he will write better poems than others because he lives where he can hear the thundering falls of the mighty Willamette. "Switzerland is all mountains; yet like the Andes, or the Himalayas, or the Mountains of the Moon in Africa, it has produced no extraordinary poet." But, while mountains, rivers, and valleys, do not create genius, no one can deny that they aid in developing it. Emerson tells us that "the charming landscape he saw one morning is undubitably made up of some twenty of thirty farms. Miller owns this field, Lock that, and Manning the woodland beyond, but none of them owns the landscape. There is a property in the horizon which no man has but he whose eye can integrate all the parts-that is the

poet." The poet is the only millionaire that is wealthy enough to purchase a landscape. Yet, no man or woman with the least poetic impulse can entirely escape and resist the inspiring influences of luxuriant vegetation, balmy air, and delightful scenery. With a state drained on the north by the mighty Columbia, measured on the east by rivers and prairies and gold, guarded on the south by the sky-kissed Siskiyous, bathed on the west by the sunset seas; a state dotted here and there by the everlasting peaks-the sentinels of the world bound together with great mountain chains, reveling in delightful valleys beautifully tessalated with charming traceries-crystal streams winding like silvery threads from the glaciers far above as if seeking the violets, the daisies, and the witcheries of the lowlands, ours is not the scenery that makes warriors and bandits, but it is the taming, refining, elevating influence of the milder, gentler, environments peculiar to our land-environments that will in the coming days produce a literature most admired for the gentleness of its sentiment and the grace of its art. With us the perfection of the literary art will attain its zenith in approximating the perfection of the sweet nature and rich landscapes about us.

Our fathers were a busy, active people, but they had their times for rest; and during these restful

hours they found much solace in song. The violin was their only piano. They listened to its music and they danced to its notes; and those, who did not think it wicked, sang with it. They did not all have time to read books, and many of them did not know how; but they could all sing, and they found time for this recreation; and they sang more in their homes and in their fields than they do now. If at no other time, they sang on their way to and from labor; and every home became a sort of musical conservatory. They had traveled far, and reached their earthly Canaan; and now they were singing of the Canaan beyond, drinking in the poetry that flowed like the milk and honey of the land that they had found.

And it is probable that the men and the women and the children who sing the good songs thrilling the world with their melodies exert as great an influence in touching the popular heart and in inspiring the nobler sentiments of humanity as do the men and the women who write the good songs; and the men and women who write the good songs do as much to develop the nation as they who write the good laws. The singers, therefore, some way or other are just back of the good laws of the country. In the days when there were no newspapers, nor magazines, and books were few, the Davids, the Homers, and the Alfreds, went about singing patriotic songs to the people; and thus, through the art of song, patriotism became a part

of national life. Away down the ages their children's children came to the shores of Oregon with a new song upon their lips; and young men from every community-representing many of the best families of our state-have responded to the nation's call, and they have sung the new song and carried a message of liberty to the down-trodden nations in the far-away isles of the unknown seas.

In the days of the pioneer, every community had its singing school. They selected from their number a leader, and sang from some of those old collections of musical gems, such as the "Carmina Sacra," the "New Lute of Zion," the "Harmony," the "Triumph," the "Key Note," "Golden Wreath," the "Revivalist," and others. Some of the best books were written in the old square-note system so the people could slowly spell their way through the music. Have you heard those songs—“The Land of Canaan," "I Belong to the Band, Hallelujah," "Mary to the Savior's Tomb," "Jesus Lover of My Soul," "The World Will Be on Fire," "I Want to Be an Angel," "There Is a Happy Land," "Work for the Night is Coming," and scores of others, among which were the national odes? Such gatherings-such music! The singers always looked forward to the day when they could join in song. Sometimes the leader stumbled a little, for the singing was more spirited than classical; but the songs were few, and they learned them well and they have been singing them ever since.