itself into a fixed and permanent society." This is a broad statement embodying precipitate deductions from false premises, and one which betrays singular ignorance of the country and its climate. These same "sandy plains of California" so far from being "scorched into sterility", are to-day sending their cereals in every direction—to the east and to the west—and are capable of feeding all Europe.
I have often wondered why California was not the seat of a primitive civilization; why, upon every converging line the race deteriorates as this centre is approached; why, with a cool, salubrious seaboard, a hot and healthful interior, with alternate rainy and dry seasons, alternate seasons of labor and leisure which encourage producing and hoarding and which are the primary incentives to accumulation and wealth, in this hot and cool, moist and dry, and invigorating atmosphere, with a fertile soil, a climate which in no part of the year can be called cold or inhospitable, should be found one of the lowest phases of humanity on the North American continent. The cause must be sought in periods more remote, in the convulsions of nature now stilled; in the tumults of nations whose history lies forgotten, forever buried in the past. Theories never will solve the mystery. Indeed, there is no reason why the foundations of the Aztec and Maya-Quiché civilizations may not have been laid north of the thirty-fifth parallel, although no architectural remains have been discovered there, nor other proof of such an origin; but upon the banks of the Gila, the Colorado, and the Rio Grande, in Chihuahua, and on the hot dry plains of Arizona and New Mexico, far beyond the limits of Mr Buckle's territory where "there never has been found, and we may confidently assert never will be found" any evidence of progress, are to-day walled towns inhabited by an industrial and agricultural people, whose existence we can trace back for more than three centuries, besides ruins of massive buildings of whose history nothing is known.