TO SAN DIEGO. Me 
four miles from Monterey. The ride was a delightful 
one over gentle hills, and through valleys with beauti- 
ful grassy slopes, thickly wooded with pine, fir, and oak 
trees. The whole country about Monterey presents 
a most pleasing prospect to the eye, after seeing the 
parched and barren hills along the coast. 
The Mission establishment, which consists of a church 
and the usual accompaniments of a large inclosure with 
ranges of small buildings, stands upon a little elevation 
between the hills and the sea, from which it is distant only 
afew hundred yards. The church which is built of stone, 
has two towers, containing six bells; its walls are very 
thick, with an arched roof, and supported by heavy but- 
tresses. The towers, as usual, differ. The adobe build- 
ings near, were all in a state of ruin, and tenantless ; 
not a human being was to be seen near, while the rank 
grass and weeds which monopolized the ground, showed 
that even curiosity did not often tempt visitors to its 
deserted precincts. One corner of the church began to 
show the ravages of time: its cornice had fallen, and 
weeds had already taken root among its opening crevices. 
The remains of an orchard and vineyard, are still seen 
near, in a decaying state. Small pine trees cover the 
hills within a short distance of the church; and on its 
other side, the ocean rolls up its waves with a dull mo- 
notonous sound, which adds to the solitary feeling of 
the place. 
Near by, the river Carmel, a diminutive stream, to 
which the appellation of brook would be more appro- 
priate, emerges from a valley between two high ranges 
of grass-covered hills, and falls into the sea. Up this 
valley I noticed ploughed fields and ranchos; beyond 
