Another thing that surprised me was the quantity of silver in circulation.  I never, in my life, saw so much silver at one time, as during the week that we were at Monterey.  The truth is, they have no credit system, no banks, and no way of investing money but in cattle.  Besides silver, they have no circulating medium but hides, which the sailors call ``California bank-notes.’’ Everything that they buy they must pay for by one or the other of these means.  The hides they bring down dried and doubled, in clumsy ox-carts, or upon mules’ backs, and the money they carry tied up in a handkerchief, fifty or a hundred dollars and half-dollars.

I had not studied Spanish at college, and could not speak a word when at Juan Fernandez; but, during the latter part of the passage out, I borrowed a grammar and dictionary from the cabin, and by a continual use of these, and a careful attention to every word that I heard spoken, I soon got a vocabulary together, and began talking for myself.  As I soon knew more Spanish than any of the crew (who, indeed, knew none at all), and had studied Latin and French, I got the name of a great linguist, and was always sent by the captain and officers for provisions, or to take letters and messages to different parts of the town.  I was often sent for something which I could not tell the name of to save my life; but I liked the business, and accordingly never pleaded ignorance.  Sometimes I managed to jump below and take a look at my dictionary before going ashore; or else I overhauled some English resident on my way, and learned the word from him; and then, by signs, and by giving a Latin or French word a twist at the end, contrived to get along.  This was a good exercise for me, and no doubt taught me more than I should have learned by months of study and reading; it also gave me opportunities of seeing the customs, characters, and domestic arrangements of the people, beside being a great relief from the monotony of a day spent on board ship.

Monterey, as far as my observation goes, is decidedly the pleasantest and most civilized-looking place in California.  In the centre of it is an open square, surrounded by four lines of one-story buildings, with half a dozen cannon in the centre; some mounted, and others not.  This is the Presidio, or fort.  Every town has a presidio in its centre; or rather every presidio has a town built around it; for the forts were first built by the Mexican government, and then the people built near them, for protection.  The presidio here was entirely open and unfortified.  There were several officers with long titles, and about eighty soldiers, but they were poorly paid, fed, clothed, and disciplined.  The governor-general, or, as he is commonly called, the ``general,’’ lives here, which makes it the seat of government.  He is appointed by the central government at Mexico, and is the chief civil and military officer.  In addition to him, each town has a commandant who