to pay these tithes, received the answer,
"As long as you are fools enough to do so." But they did not remain
fools very much longer, and Brannan found himself deprived of this
source of revenue. On being dunned by Brigham Young for the tithes
already collected, Brannan blandly resigned from the Church, still
retaining the assets. With this auspicious beginning, aided by a burly,
engaging personality, a coarse, direct manner that appealed to men, and
an instinct for the limelight, he went far. Though there were a great
many admirable traits in his character, people were forced to like him
in spite of rather than because of them. His enthusiasm for any public
agitation was always on tap.

In the present instance he rode down from Sutter's Fort, where he then
had a store, bringing with him gold-dust and nuggets from the new
placers. "Gold! Gold! Gold from the American River!" shouted Brannan, as
he strode down the street, swinging his hat in one hand and holding
aloft the bottle of gold-dust in the other. This he displayed to the
crowd that immediately gathered. With such a start, this new interest
brought about a stampede that nearly depopulated the city.

The fever spread. People scrambled to the mines from all parts of the
State. Practically every able-bodied man in the community, except the
Spanish Californians, who as usual did not join this new enterprise with
any unanimity, took at least a try at the diggings. Not only did they
desert almost every sort of industry, but soldiers left the ranks and
sailors the ships, so that often a ship was left in sole charge of its
captain. All of American and foreign California moved to the foothills.

Then ensued the brief period so affectionately described in all
literalness as the Arcadian Age. Men drank and gambled and enjoyed
themselves in the rough manner of mining camps; but they were hardly
ever drunken and in no instance dishonest. In all literalness the miners
kept their gold-dust in tin cans and similar receptacles, on shelves,
unguarded in tents or open cabins. Even quarrels and disorder were
practically unknown. The communities were individualistic in the
extreme, and yet, with the Anglo-Saxon love of order, they adopted rules
and regulations and simple forms of government that proved entirely
adequate to their needs. When the "good old days" are mentioned with
the lingering regret associated with that phrase, the reference is to
this brief period that came betwee