When the gold-fever was setting the country frantic, and every one, apparently, wanted to go to California, I said to Mackay: "I want a big ship, one that will be larger than the Ocean Monarch." Mackay replied, "Two hundred tons bigger?" "No," said I, "I want a ship of 2,000 tons." Mackay was one of those men who merely ask what is needed. He said he would build the sort of ship I wanted. "I shall call her the Flying Cloud," I said. This is the history of that famous ship, destined to make a new era in ship-building all over the world. Longfellow sent me a copy of his poem, The Building of the Ship, which he had written to commemorate the construction of a much smaller vessel. Not only ship-builders, but the whole world, was talking of the Flying Cloud. Her appearance in the world of commerce was a great historic event. No sooner was the Flying Cloud built than many ship-owners wanted to buy her. Among others, the house of Grinnell, Minturn & Co., of the Swallow-Tail Line, of Liverpool, asked what we would take for her. I replied that I wanted $90,000, which meant a handsome profit. The answer came back immediately, "We will take her." We sent the vessel to New York under Captain Cressey, while I went on by railway. There I closed the sale, and the proudest moment of my life, up to that time, was when I received a check from Moses H. Grinnell, the New York head of the house, for $90,000. The Flying Cloud was sent from New York to San Francisco, and made the passage in eighty-six days, with a full cargo of freight and passengers, paying for herself in that single voyage out and back. Her record has not been beaten by any sailing ship in the fifty-three years that have since elapsed. The building of this vessel was a tremendous leap forward in ship-building; but I was not satisfied. I told Mackay that I wanted a still larger ship. He said he could build it. And so we began another vessel that was to outstrip in size and capacity the great Flying Cloud. I was desirous to name this ship the Enoch Train, in honor of the head of the Boston house, and had said as much to Duncan MacLane, who was the marine reporter for the Boston Post. MacLane had usually written a column for his paper on the launching of our ships. He wanted to have something to write about the new vessel. I told him the story of Colonel Train's life, and that we were going to christen the new vessel with his name. I did not consult Colonel Train, thinking that, of course, it was all right.