And yet, man has flouted this “shade of His perfection.” Under its shadow he has neglected to gain inspiration and strength. In the restless trend of the times he has become engrossed in empty pleasures. In the agitation and strife for wealth individual interests, and not those of posterity, have become of moment. As a result only that which offers the allurement of gain has been recognized in the great Sequoia. Its solemn and stately forests have been invaded by the axe and commercialism has turned reverence, not into beams and pillars for places of worship, but into supports for grape vines and barbed wire. Fortunately, the Mariposa Grove has escaped the fate which the axe has brought many of its brethren. Like the groves of yore that were God’s first temples it still stands, a virgin forest. The fluted columns of its mighty trees are softened by the touch of centuries, and so harmoniously are these venerable columns disposed that splendid colonades are formed, giving the effect of a vast, many-pillared hall. The airy masses of foliage that these great trunks mingle high in the heavens form cathedral-like archways of the finest forest ceilings imaginable. These magnificent interlaced archways soften the glare of day and impart a dim religious light which suffuse shifting mosaics of light and shade over the forest floor. Even the thick layers of crumbling bark and the dessicated dust of ages serve to deaden the footfall of the wanderer and to invest the gloom with a profound silence. A deep Sabbath-like calm broods in the very air. Indeed, all seems eloquent of worship. Here Nature stands with arms uplifted. None escape the sacred influence of such a grove. None, save possibly the white man. Deer with eyes of soft innocence trip timorously through it; burly brown bear never shuffle heedlessly down its winding aisles; and rarely does the noisy, impudent jay muster sufficient courage to disturb its serenity. The Indian with his stone axe never harmed it, nor has the myth that he lighted his fires against its trunks, thus “wantonly destroying that which he was too rude to reverence,” been substantiated. It is only civilized man who violates such a sanctuary “just so long,” as John Muir so pithily expressed it, “as fun or a dollar can be gotten out of them.”