Rambles in the "far West."
By Ralph Roanoke.
In 1820, Missouri was the "far West," and Independence the boundary of civilization. Now, in 1854, there is no "far West." It has been crowded overboard into the Pacific Ocean.
Formerly, the hardy pioneer, impatient of the restraints of society, and fired with the spirit of adventure, plunged into the wilds of the West in search of happiness on his own hook. He had no fear of a civilization which was travelling at a snail's pace to elbow him out of his quiet home; neither did he recognize in himself its champion, bearing the standard of empire westward. But now that rampant spirit of go-ahead-ativeness which is knocking at the doors of Congress for an appropriation to have our gold-diggers rode on a rail is daily gaining strength, and will soon make itself heard. The settlements which, under the present hot haste to make fortunes, are to spring up and bridge over our vast western domain will wear a new and widely different aspect. Pioneer life and pioneer progress must soon pass away for ever, to be remembered only in story.
If the traveller of the present day takes no note of the changes, leaves no foot-prints upon the sands of time, future generations will utterly fail to appreciate from what beginnings and under what auspices the great western cities have sprung into existence. They may even imagine that, like Minerva, they sprang from the front of those grand prairies, and from the banks of those mighty rivers, ready paved with cubical blocks of granite and brilliantly lighted with gas.
Perhaps no era in American history has been more fruitful in the birth of what are destined to become genuine cities, or so prolific in
