Christian, barbarian, or savage nations, seemed determined to impress
upon their dull intellects the forms and customs of civilization. He
scolded them with great vivacity, sometimes in their own tongue,
sometimes in French, Spanish, Portuguese, Danish, German, and English,
in accordance with the language in which he was thinking at the moment.
It seemed to me that the little fat Indians were more confused than
enlightened by his emphatic instructions. At the table, besides
ourselves and host, was Lieutenant W.A. Bartlett, of the U.S.
sloop-of-war Portsmouth, now acting as Alcalde of the town and district
of San Francisco.

The Portsmouth, Commander Montgomery, is the only United States vessel
of war now lying in the harbour. She is regarded as the finest vessel
of her class belonging to our navy. By invitation of Lieutenant
Bartlett, I went on board of her between ten and eleven o'clock. The
crew and officers were assembled on deck to attend Divine service. They
were all dressed with great neatness, and seemed to listen with deep
attention to the Episcopal service and a sermon, which were read by
Commander Montgomery, who is a member of the church.

In the afternoon I walked to the summit of one of the elevated hills in
the vicinity of the town, from which I had a view of the entrance to
the bay of San Francisco and of the Pacific Ocean. A thick fog hung
over the ocean outside of the bay. The deep roar of the eternally
restless waves, as they broke one after another upon the beach, or
dashed against the rock-bound shore, could be heard with great
distinctness, although some five or six miles distant. The entrance
from the ocean into the bay is about a mile and half in breadth. The
waters of the bay appear to have forced a passage through the elevated
ridge of hills next to the shore of the Pacific. These rise abruptly on