[Illustration:  SANTA BARBARA MISSION]

=A Contrast in the Far West and Southwest.=—­As George Rogers Clark and Daniel Boone had stirred the snug Americans of the seaboard to seek their fortunes beyond the Appalachians, so now Kit Carson, James Bowie, Sam Houston, Davy Crockett, and John C. Fremont were to lead the way into a new land, only a part of which was under the American flag.  The setting for this new scene in the westward movement was thrown out in a wide sweep from the headwaters of the Mississippi to the banks of the Rio Grande; from the valleys of the Sabine and Red rivers to Montana and the Pacific slope.  In comparison with the middle border, this region presented such startling diversities that only the eye of faith could foresee the unifying power of nationalism binding its communities with the older sections of the country.  What contrasts indeed!  The blue grass region of Kentucky or the rich, black soil of Illinois—­the painted desert, the home of the sage brush and the coyote!  The level prairies of Iowa—­the mighty Rockies shouldering themselves high against the horizon!  The long bleak winters of Wisconsin—­California of endless summer!  The log churches of Indiana or Illinois—­the quaint missions of San Antonio, Tucson, and Santa Barbara!  The little state of Delaware—­the empire of Texas, one hundred and twenty times its area!  And scattered about through the Southwest were signs of an ancient civilization—­fragments of four-and five-story dwellings, ruined dams, aqueducts, and broken canals, which told of once prosperous peoples who, by art and science, had conquered the aridity of the desert and lifted themselves in the scale of culture above the savages of the plain.

The settlers of this vast empire were to be as diverse in their origins and habits as those of the colonies on the coast had been.  Americans of English, Irish, and Scotch-Irish descent came as usual from the Eastern states.  To them were added the migratory Germans as well.  Now for the first time came throngs of Scandinavians.  Some were to make their homes on quiet farms as the border advanced against the setting sun.  Others were to be Indian scouts, trappers, fur hunters, miners, cowboys, Texas planters, keepers of lonely posts on the plain and the desert, stage drivers, pilots of wagon trains, pony riders, fruit growers, “lumber jacks,” and smelter workers.  One common bond united them—­a passion for the self-government accorded to states.  As soon as a few thousand settlers came together in a single territory, there arose a mighty shout for a position beside the staid commonwealths of the East and the South.  Statehood meant to the pioneers self-government, dignity, and the right to dispose of land, minerals, and timber in their own way.  In the quest for this local autonomy there arose many a wordy contest in Congress, each of the political parties lending a helping hand in the admission of a state when it gave promise of adding new congressmen of the “right political persuasion,” to use the current phrase.