STATE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY. 215 



migratory career. To-day the hills of Northern India abound in wild 

 orange trees, massed in the heated jungle or dispersed in picturesque 

 groupings on sloping upland or brow or beetling cliff. 



Just before us, as you see, is an Egyptian obelisk. It was in the ninth 

 century the Mohammedans transplanted the orange to Egypt and Arabia 

 the Happy. In the century following it found its way to Macedonia and 

 Sicily. It accompanied the Saracenic conquerors into Spain and Africa. 

 The returning Crusaders introduced it into the genial soil and atmosphere 

 of southern France. In the fifteenth century it was brought to Italy by 

 the Genoese navigators; and, from these countries it has, like much that is 

 good and nearly everything that is bad, found its way to this extreme mar- 

 gin of the western world. Just beyond the obelisk you are attracted by 

 the graceful, airy proportions of a modern summer-house, with its genuine 

 lawn, fresh and vernal, transplanted from Thermalito itself. Very near it 

 is a miniature orange grove, with its cottage and parterre, such as any 

 modest family may reasonably hope to possess. At the extreme western 

 limit of this lofty pavilion blazes the Star of Empire, and beneath it, 

 nearly touched by its rays, the words, "Rock of Ages," are bent over the 

 all prevailing symbol of the modern world. That symbol seems to create 

 an atmosphere peculiarly its own; and when the choir within its precinct 

 discourses anthems and melodies of sweet and solemn measure, the soul 

 of the listener goes out on these sublime and winged words: 



" His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, 

 Breathe soft or loud, and wave your tops, ye pines, 

 With every plant, in sign of worship wave." 



It is, indeed, a magnificent tribute to the sovereign grace and virtue of 

 our holy religion. It is a good omen, a happy auspication; and we readily 

 accept it as among the things we could have most desired. 



We are grateful for this touching, reverent, and dignified expression of a 

 thought uppermost in the mind of every genuine man. It is confession 

 and offering in no mean or sinister spirit. It proclaims that religion is at 

 once the strength and ornament of our social order — its chief cornerstone, 

 its pillar, and its Corinthian capital. 



I should here, perhaps, resume my seat; but I am reminded by other 

 symbols and allegorical representations, that we are, at last, in the " heart 

 of" the citrus belt." We have before our eyes the story of progress, from 

 rudeness to refinement; from the imperfect conditions and appliances of a 

 mining population to the early pledges of that prophetic period on whose 

 threshold we stand to-night. We are passing from youth to maturity. 

 The Pioneers are dropping away like over-ripened fruit, and the first gen- 

 eration of the "Sons and Daughters of the Golden West" advancing to 

 the stations so long and worthily filled. We predicate our belief in the 

 unexampled future of California on the advantages of soil and climate. 

 The products here on display owe their superiority to peculiarly favorable 

 conditions. You will bear witness that oranges, lemons, pomegranates, 

 persimmons, grapes, figs, and prunes, walnuts, apples, and almonds, ruta- 

 bagas, and potatoes nourish under similar conditions — flowering under the 

 same sky and drawing their flavors from, substantially, the same soil. Yet 

 it is a mistake to presume that we may plant in a gravel bed and reasonably 

 hope for the best results. In the West Indies, where the soil is rich by 

 nature, guano and other valuable manures are freely applied, and the har- 

 vest seldom fails to justify this previsional liberality. The soils of Joppa, 

 Egypt, and Cashmere are opulent, watered by great rivers or fertilized by 

 the mists of the Mediterranean, yet fail not to receive the provident atten- 



