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Sacramento July 18, 1852 

My Dear, Dear Mother

Your long kind and deeply interesting letter of May 24 reached me a day or two before the closing of the mail of the 15th inst. for the States; and I should have been pleased to have time to answer it immediately; but I was so much occupied with other things that I could not do it, unless I had been willing to content myself with a very brief, hasty and unsatisfactory scrawl that would have been no reply return for the excellent letter which I received. Further more I had but just completed a very long drawn and -- I suspect -- tiresome letter to Joe; so full of nonsense and volubility that I had good reason to suppose that all who saw it or heard of it would require a breathing spell of a week or two before they could hear anything further from me.

A few days have now elapsed -- this is Saturday afternoon -- my week's work is over -- a little more quiet begins to pervade the City, and I can have no better way of spending my leisure moments than in trying to furnish you with something that may perchance, in a small dyne, serve to lighten the heaviness of some lonely & weary hour. I would to Heaven, dear Mother, that I possessed the power of lightening each hour & each moment of your existence, not only of every burden, but of every wearisome care and depressing thought. Often and often my thoughts ramble back home and when I see in imagination the form of my kind and indulgent mother as she patiently and uncomplainingly meets the varied and many duties of a position which 



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which [sic] in brighter years could never had been foreseen -- and when I think of the physical pain as well as mental anxiety that have fallen to her lot I almost accuse myself of deep ingratitude in having allowed any temptations to induce me to leave her, with so small a circle of comforting as time has spared her. And if anything on earth could fill my heart to overflowing with sweet and unalloyed felicity, it would be the possession of the power to restore to her all the happiness of earlier days, -- to banish every sad recollection of the Past, every shadow of the Present, and every fear doubt and anxiety for the Future; and then show that I am not ungrateful for, nor forgetful of, the innumerable and incalculable kindnesses that she has shown around me from my birth. A fortune would derive no higher value in my eyes -- if I know my own heart -- from the ability which it would give me to accomplish in part, such wishes as these. I hope that this power will not always be denied me; if it is, I shall feel as though life had been given over[?] to very little purpose.

You express a pleasure, dear mother, to find through my letters that I do not "forget home". If this be a source of gratification, rest ease at ease. It is true -- and I will be frank in expressing it – that the locality of my home has nothing strongly attractive connected with it. The rich, broad, flowery prairies and deep, majestic forests of Missouri, with its sunny skies & genial showers, though they as nearly constitute an Eden as most parts of this "mundane sphere" of ours, yet, do not so far outshine the charms 



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of this portion of it, as to render every absentee very miserable; and were those the only inducements, I think it doubtful whether my thoughts rested there any oftener than they do on the Sandwich Islands. But as the scene of the happiest hours of my own life, -- as a spot hallowed by a thousand clustering associations -- as the former home of an unbroken happy circle of joyous innocent hearts -- full of the surest filial and fraternal affections of my soul -- the "White Cottage" can never be forgotten while memory retains her seat. And did it stand amid Polar snows & eternal ice fields instead of flowery meads, I would, -- staff in hand, if necessary, -- with a stronger devotion than ever supported the fainting Musselman, to the Tomb of Mahomet, make one more pilgrimage to its humble walls, were it but to breathe my last beneath their shade. With me, it will always be true that, "be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."

Your letter mother contained a great deal of very interesting news which I should certainly have lost but for your pen. Homer has not written many letters during the past year, but I don’t complain of him a particle, for he has had too much happening and too much affliction to be very often at leisure to write. Then Rens. has had a very hard task which I imposed on him about a year ago, and like a good kind brother that he is, he has been taxing his strength with it ever since. I think the dissertations he has written me ought to be bound as standard assessments in favor of



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the Christian Religion. As for Joe, many have been the long, good letters that I have got from him. Every month as regularly as the moon changes, comes a letter, and I have been kept very busy in answering. But it doesn't suit his fancy to tell much news. Jos. has got a fine imagination, and he wields a "mighty" graphic pen when he takes a notion. And furthermore, I have long since found that Father was right when years ago, he used to say when Homer & I made fun of Joe's "big words" -- "never mind boys! Joe'll use better language than any of you when he's as old as you now are."

But I am always more interested in the minute and apparently unimportant matters which do in fact constitute so large a part of all the most momentary transactions of life. And here especially when I can know but a small part of what is actually going on among old acquaintances, every item of news is of interest.
 
I was very glad to hear that Homer's health had so much improved as to permit him to engage again in active employment; but I could not help thinking that he will have a laborious & heavy task before him to subdue, improve & beautify the wild 80 acre tract that he chose to adopt as the place of his future home. I sometimes very much regret that he did so; but being unacquainted with the circumstances which surrounded him, I am not perhaps the best judge. I hope however that every success may meet him. 



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I suppose that before this, Jos. has been released from the thralldom of "Uncle Jake" and that he is now enjoying the delights of a rural life at West Springfield. If he & Rens. both remain you will have more company than you had a year ago, and I doubt not they can manage to make themselves agreeable as the best of mothers. If they don't, they ought to have their noodles bumped against the oldest apple tree on the place.

You mention receiving my daguerreotype; I have nothing to say about the "customs of the Romany or Jews", save that being in Rome it is not so much of a crime to be a Roman as it would be in Carthage. And when I reach Carthage I can easily become a Carthagenian. Is my defense good?

But I must explain one thing lest you misconstrue. I directed my daguerreotype to Fanny at Palmyra thinking it would be safer than to direct it further into the interior; not with the intention of visiting in her the sole ownership of so priceless a treasure! I have also been intending to send home another; and when I do so it will be for you to choose between them and keep the one which pleases you most.

I am truly sorry that you were led to imagine that the portrait was a "little too delicate for sound health"; for I assure you that at the time it was taken my health was perfectly sound & good as indeed it always has been in California & still continues to be. From the fact that I stay pretty closely in my office, I am not much exposed to the tanning influences of the sun & wind, and my complexion is probably a little fairer than it was at home. The reason I said nothing about my health in some of my letters, was surely that I forgot it, or thought that my usual stereotyped words upon that subject would curry little interest. But I shall not be so thoughtless in future so as to increase your uneasiness by any act of neg-


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-ligence, nor by any other act, if I can help it.

You have a fear lest the overflow of last March may render the city unhealthy this summer. Well, I must confess that judging according to the established rules in other countries & especially Missouri's I should fear much sickening would be the result. With marshes full of dense, luxurious masses of vegetable matter skirting the western bank of the Sacramento river the City, upon which the hot sun has been pouring down its rays uninterruptedly for the last 4 months, it would sound even stranger in the Mississippi Valley, if we were to escape entirely the diseases which abound there late in the summer. But the purity of the atmosphere here is so great, that it serves to neutralize all those malarious influences & render them harmless. For myself I have not a particle of doubt that the health of the City will remain as good as it now is, during the whole summer. I mean of those who have been in California six months. Many of the incoming emigration will doubtless fall victim to their imprudence & greediness in gorging themselves with fruits, melons, etc, as hundreds did in 1850. But I have so much confidence in the native healthfulness and salubrity of the climate, that I would have very little fear for my health in any part of the country. Inborn diseases, intemperance, excesses & gross inattention to diet and modes of life will of course, here as everywhere, carry off their scores; but to one possessed of a sound constitution, temperate, regular & careful habits, I believe this climate holds out a longer & more healthful life than almost any other in the world.

You can hardly imagine how much pleased I was with this climate. 



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I believe I mention this in every letter, but I can never tire of repeating its praises. It is the only climate in which I could not find something to be dissatisfied with almost every day in the year. Here I -- nor any one else -- never dream of grumbling. Even did I control it myself I hardly know of any alterations that I could suggest. It is true, the long rains of winter & the extreme noon day heat of summer are a little unpleasant, but I am perfectly willing to take all the trifling discomforts & bear them patiently & silently for the sake of the inexpressibly delightful influences that prevail during much the largest portion of the year.

July 25th. I wonder if my dear mother is thinking of her absent son today; and whether she remembers that this is his 27th birthday. Twenty six years! A quarter of a Century & one year in the second quarter! And what have I been doing during all this long time, that has tended to make the world, or any individual in it, happier or better or wiser? Very, very little, -- almost nothing. Not a very consoling thought. It seems a great pity that so many years in the life of a human being must be spent unprofitably before he is perfectly fitted to enter upon the great work of doing good, with any success. And by the time he is thoroughly prepared to show that his birth was not in vain, he drops into the grave, with all his plans & schemes and is forgotten. Such is the vanity of human life! But it avails nothing to sigh & lament over it. The past may serve as a guide for the future; and he who makes use of his experience in such a way as to avoid the mistakes and shortcomings of by-gone years will undoubtedly have in the end some pleasant reflections with which to console himself.



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The Emigrants are beginning to arrive from the States. A number of families have just reached the City and report many others a short distance in their rear. A few days since, a dusty, dusty, bewhiskered and begrimed form walked into my office with, "How do you do, Mr. Winchell". I stared. "I reckon you don't know me". After a good look, "No sir. I don't know you, though your countenance is familiar". I looked again but in vain, and he was finally obliged to tell me that his name was Taylor -- a brother of Dr Jno. L's from Palmyra. I became acquainted with him, when I was reading law, but had not seen him for two or three years. He was stout, robust & in first rate health -- having apparently borne the trip very well. His father-in-law Maj. Blakey, who left Pal. in 1851 and reached here a week or two since is in bad health & will probably return as soon as he can sell his cattle. Mr. Cook of Pal. who left at the same time will probably settle in this city, & thinks he will send for his family & make this his permanent residence.

You can form very little idea how rapidly this place is improving. Magnificent fire-proof brick buildings are springing up as if by magic. School houses and churches are being built & beautiful dwelling houses constantly increase. Families are pouring in and excellent schools are established. The Methodists have a Seminary which already employs a principal and a male & female assistant -- teachers of fine ability. Excellent society is rapidly increasing. By the way I have had a polite invitation to a fine party tonight at Judge E.J. Miller's residence and am strongly inclined to accept it. I mention these things that you may not think that California continues to be devoid of all means of rational enjoyment.

But I have hastily finished the 8th page and though I am sorry that it is not very interesting, I will stop lest you become tired. Many thanks for your kind letters, and I hope to receive others when you are able & strong enough to write. But I can never complain of you as I do of the others sometimes. My Best love to all. Your most affectionate son Elisha.