PAM. N. AMER, ^ISlSBlSI3SF=1F^F=li=]iF=1F=]IS£Sjj| B El Camino Real g 1 Alice M. Guern sey | SOME day we, too, shall be the past. Some day the glamour of dis- tance will surround our Mission Homes and schools. But however bright the halo of self-sacrifice and love that may rest upon them, they will never stand out from the surrounding civilization as do those of a century ago along El Ca- mino Real — the King's Highway. Church and commonwealth in the Golden State have equal interest in preserving to the utmost every crumbling arch and broken sill of the old Mission stations of Cali- fornia, for they are treasures that will grow more and more precious as time goes on. There were other Mission stations in what are now other States, but those in which we are most interested lie along a line some eight hundred miles in length on the Pacific coast. Railroad and auto reach them now. But in the years from 1769 to 1823, the brown-robed, sandal- shod Franciscan friars built them a day's journey apart — a long day's journey on foot, wading through toilsome sand, fol- lowing imperfect trails over the hills, and bearing heavy burdens for the souls as well as the bodies of those they sought to help. Who were they — those wanderers of the early nineteenth century, whose im- print still lingers like a faint, elusive fra- grance on the rush and turmoil of the twentieth ? To answer the question we must cross the seas to sunny Italy, and go back in time to the year 1182, thus reaching the birth of a lad who was destined to shape civilization in lands asleep in the sunset for more than six centuries thereafter. A wild, reckless boy — a young man with a vision — the founder of a brotherhood of service whose chief tenet was sacrifice and whose chief vow was perpetual pov- erty, Francis d'Assisi was one of the world's heroes. A Roman Catholic? Yes, and the church to which he gave humble, devoted allegiance did well to place him on her roll of honor as Saint Francis d'Assisi. The life of this pioneer Missionary is worthy of study by all lovers of missions to-day. The extent of his influence may well make us wonder anew at the far reach of the waves when a hand nerved by God's strength throws the pebble of devoted effort into the waters of humanity. Six hundred years later, the brother- hood of St. Francis had increased its membership many fold. How did it hap- pen that a life of poverty, of toil for others, of endless sacrifice, proved attrac- tive to men with red blood in their veins ? Ah, the question answers itself. It did not "happen." Because of that "red blood" they were fired with the same holy purpose to dare and to do in the name of the God they served, as was he who wrote, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." Weaklings do not think such thoughts nor perform such deeds. Just here is the one thing to be remem- bered. Censure the Roman church as we may, mourn over her departure from the pure faith once given to her keeping, we must never forget that the prime motive of Francis d'Assisi in the beginning of the thirteenth century, of Isabella of Cas- tile, acting through Columbus in the latter days of the fifteenth century, and of the Franciscan friars on our western shore three centuries later, was the passion for souls. This, and this alone, explains their high faith, their spiritual attitude, their sacrifices, and their peaceful conquests. The Mission stations of California, twenty-one in number, and reaching from San Diego to San Francisco, along El Camino Real, were established as centers for the spiritual and temporal life of the Indians then occupying that coast. Those old friars well understood the value of industrial training, and under their tutel- age agriculture flourished, manufacturing was established along many lines, cleanli- ness and sanitation were introduced. True, there was another side to the story. The country was a Spanish colony, and the presidios, or military stations (usu- ally near the Missions), occupied by com- andantes and Spanish soldiers, furnished good markets for the grain and grapes, the oil and wine, supplied from the Mis- sions. And, by the same token, the cof- fers of the church were enriched. But history credits the friars personally with being true to their vows of poverty and devotion, and with laboring quite as faith- fully to bring the Indians into the fold of the church as to teach them better ways of living and working. Matins and vespers must be faithfully attended even though the Latin rituals were quite unin- telligible to the listeners. And therein lay the initial weakness that ultimately led to the dov/nfall of the structure so care- fully built. For, as in Cuba and Porto Rico for hundreds of years, and in Mex- ico to-day, the religion taught was chiefly a form, and with the training of heart and hands there was none of the head — for no schools were established whereby in- creased intelligence made for development of manhood and womanhood, and deeper understanding of the real meaning of re- ligion in life and thought. But even with these reservations, honor must always be given to the Franciscan brothers as the pioneer missionaries of our far West. And in considering the romance of missions, there is no more fascinating field than that now revealed by ruined fanes and crumbling colon- nades, as well as by the few Missions still used as centers of churchly activity. On the brotherhood, as well, rest the encomi- ums given to its devoted leader, Fray Junipero Serra, as voiced on his monu- ment at "holy Carmelo," his resting-place to-day: "A philanthropist seeking the welfare of the humblest, a hero daring and ready to sacrifice himself for the good of his fellow-beings, a faithful serv- ant of his Master." Well may a historical society place guide-markers along "the King's High- way," bringing to mind, even in the noisy, crowded streets of modern cities, the sim- ple faith and earnest purpose of the be- ginnings of civilization there. And well may modern missionaries along the same highway take heart of courage in remem- bering that "such as these have lived and died." Woman's Home Missionary Society Methodist Episcopal Church 150 Fifth Avenue, New York City 50 or less, 6c.; 50 to 100, 10c.