1 i I). J J VOLUME V., No. I. Oi'PiCE, No. TSA'l Mkuchaxt street. SAN FRANCISCO. MAY 26, 1866. TERMS, i $5 A Year, by Mail, in Advance- '50 Cents a Month, by Carrier- CONTENTS PROSE: Jiiigoiogs.— By " Inigo." Stags - Coach Conversations — By » Bret." My Friend, the Cosmopolitan.— By " Philip." Roses : Continued. — By " Iris." Olmstcad's Report in Regard to a Public Pleasure-Ground. 1 Mark Twain " on bis Trave's. Not Hung Enough. The Field of Fair Oaks. Undo Ingot. A Taste for Glass Houses. Les Bourras Paillo Son. Popular Fallacies. The Thieves of Bengal. Life in Havana. The Story of a Machine. AMUSEMENTS : Theatrical Events, and Announce, ments. POETRY : The Eagle : A Fragment. — By Chas. Wiirrcu Stoddard. Embroidery. — By * * * IForthe Califomian.] THE EAGLE. A FRAGMENT. — (AFTER TENNYSON.) He spurns the peak ; he courts the gale ; He fronts the storm with breast of mail : His thousand years are ripe and bale. His iron pinions cannot tire; His steel-knit talons do aspire To pluck the Sun's red heart of fire. Charles Warren Stoddard. STAGE (For the Califomian.) COACH CONVERSATIONS BY " I1RET." SCENE — a stage coach en route to a California watering- place. Driver, expressman, passengers, etc. A gloomy silence lias prevailed for teu minutes, during which time a palpable dust pours into the windows. Passengers perspire. Agricultural Passenger, (looking at view, and addressing nobody in particular,) " Them's fine oats." His next neighbor, (finding the other passengers glancing toward him, and feeling painfully conscious that his position makes him in some way responsible for reprehensible conduct of A. P., but knowing nothing about grain, feebly.) " Yes." A gloomy silence, broken by Agricultural Passenger, (who has been encouraged to rashness by this attention,) " Too much baird (beard) on that barley, though." His Next Neighbor, (wishes he had said nothing, but find- iug the other passengers looking at him for an answer, puts on a critical expression.) " I should say so — rather!" Elderly Rustic Female, (with round basket containing a sus- picious napkin, vivaciously, to His Next Neighbor,) " Ranchin' out this way ?" His Next Neighbor, (who is really a dry goods clerk, but feels that he has somehow lost caste with the other passen- gers by being identified with Agricultural Man, sharply,) " No, Ma'am !" [Interval of five minutes. Passengers stare hard out of the windows, and affect to be intensely interested in nothing. Dust silently pours in and powders them. Perspiration.] Elderly Female, (who has been revolving His Next Neigh- bor's answer, and is dimly conscious of having made some mistake, soothingly.) " Daguerrotypin'?" | Passenger in linen duster and passenger in straw hat both smile, bat, detecting each other, repudiate the Bympathy, and frown out of their respective windows. Stage crosses a bridge.] ^ -. Father of Family, (confidentially to two grown up daugh- ters,) "Did you notice the peculiarly hollow sound of the horses' hoofs on that bridge?" Agricultural Passenger, (seeing a chance to put in his oar,) " Rotteu timbers — cave in some day?" Father of Family, (sternly oblivious of A. P.,) " It re- minded me of a line in the classics." Daughters, (together,) " Yes ?" Father of Family (begins amid a general silence.) " Quadu- pedunteputrem— no— petrum— no— bless my soul— (finds he's forgotten it, but makes a wild dash to a conclusion)— " qualit vngida campum." [Passengers endeavor to look as if they understood it. Gent in corner smiles, and pulls his hat over his eyes. Gent in white choker audibly repeats the quotation correctly. Father of Family resolves never to quote again iu mixed com- pany. Agricultural Passenger sets him down as a foreigner.] Pretty Girl, (to heryoung man,) " What's that he's saying?'' Young Man, (not wishing to commit himself,) " Something from Homer." Sharp Young Lady, (confidant of Pretty Girl, and a little vexed at somebody's want of attention.) " But Homer was a Greek poet, and I've seen that line in the Latin grammar." [The other passengers try to look as if they had seen it in t he Latin grammar too, and glance superciliously at Father of Family. F. of F. wishes he hadn't said anything. Stage reaches top of hill and comes in view of ocean.] Bride, (to Bridegroom iu back seat, on wedding trip,) " How lovely the ocean looks !" Bridegroom, (who wishes to show that he can quote also, murmurs in an undertone as if to himself,) " Break — Break — [stage commences to go down hill, and careers frightfully] — ■ Break." Elderly Rustic Female, (who doesn't recognize Tennyson, but is " timersome,") " You don't think there's any danger of breukiir down, do you?" Bridegroom : " On thy dark grey crags, O sea." [Stage clatters so frightfully that Bridegroom is obliged to raise his voice :] " And I would that ray Ron! ronld utter The thoughts that arise iu me." Bridegroom, (to himself, finding that the stage has suddenly come to level ground, and that he has delivered the concluding lines ill a stentorian voice which has attracted every eye to him.) " D — n it." Outside passenger, (confidentially, to expressman,) " Drunk!" Dead silence. Several passengers, (to each other,) " How far is it yet?" [General depression.] Agricultural passenger, (deliberately to His Next Neighbor, settling himself in a comfortable position,) " In the fall of '49—" His Next Neighbor, (to expressman, nervously,) " How far did you say ?" Driver, (suddenly,) " Muggiusville ! Change horses." TABLEAUX. [For the Califomian.] HYBRID R O..S E S [We observe that " Iris " is not without honor abroad, mauy of our Eastern exchanges copying his articles with words of encouragement and commendation. We trust that at home he may succeed in awakening a like interest, and thereby add to the loveliness of Cali- fomian homes. The following paper wa6 unavoidably deferred last week ; it is a continuation of remarks upon a subject introduced iu a former contribution :] WE have previously referred to the absurd distinction which is drawn by cultivators of the Rose between hybrid and cross-bred varieties. This accords with the desire manifested by so many to multiply unnecessarily our florieul- tural names and classes. Let the botanist be as minute as he wishes in his distinctions ; the florist, on the other hand, whose object has a more practical character than that of his botanical neighbor, should strive not to involve, but to sim- plify the subject with which he deals. But how often is this overlooked. Many a tyro, beginning his culture of the rose, lias been frightened and mystified by the increasing divisions of the rose catalogues. The Bourbon Rose is generally considered to be a hybrid variety. It was, in the form in which it was first obtained, the result of accidental impregnation. Jt was discovered in the Isle of Bourbon in 1817, and hence its appellation. The history of its origin is generally given as follows : It is the custom of the inhabitants of this islaud to form enclosures by means of rose-bushes, which grow there in great luxuri- ance. Two varieties are generally miugled, the " Chinese " and " Rose of Four Seasons." M. Perichdh, a gentleman who resided at Beuoist in the island, when plantiug a hedge of roses, discovered amongst his plants one whose foliage and habit were distinct from the two species which we have named, and which were the only species cultivated at the time in the island. This in due season bloomed, and was the originator of the Bourbon family. Plants were sent in 1822 to M. Jacques, at Neuilly, and to this cultivator are we indebted for the first new varieties of this attractive group. Amongst its gems are' the "Queen of Bourbons," flesh- colored ; the favorite White ; " Souvenir de Malmaison ;" the rich crimson, " Paul Joseph," and the peculiarly-tinted " An- gelina." The "Noisette." — It is generally supposed that the original Noisette was a hybrid, whose parents were the Musk Rose and some tea-scented or Chinese variety. It was obtained by a florist in Charleston, S. C, and sent by hirn to his brother, M. Noisette, in Paris. At the time of its first appearance, in 1817, it attracted much attention. It has since then been much improved, but still the old Blush Noi- sette remains a favorite. It may not possess, in its blooms, the size and colors of some which are descended from it, but it excels all of them in its hardiness, and consequently in the ease with which it may be cultivated. We can have no finer blooms in the garden than those produced by varieties of this class, such as " Lamarque," white ; " Solfaterre," pale sulphur ; " Cloth of Gold," yellow ; " Isabella Gray," yellow, (raised by a Mr. Gray, an American florist, from seeds of the " Cloth of Gold ;") also, " Ophirie," distinct from every other rose in its coppery tints, etc. The Hybrid Chinese family contains many of our loveliest varieties. The members of this family owe their origin to the Gallicas, Provence, and other hardy roses, impregnated with the Pollen of the Chinese. We consider " Chenedole " to be the gem of this group. No object can be finer than a large plant of this variety, covered with its fiery-scarlet blossoms. So inteuse is the color that it strikes the eye, even at consid- erable distance, and produces the dazzling effect >f flame. This variety was raised in France, and named in honor of the deputy of a province. " Brennus," " Blairii," and " Gen- eral Jacquiminot," are also well known and much admired varieties ; while, lastly, to the same group belongs " Madame Flan tier," certainly the best white pellar rose which wo have. The Hybrid Bourbons closely resemble the Hybrid Chi- nese, and among them may be found some of our most beau- tiful roses. "Coup d'Rebe." — None surpass this lovely variety in shape and color. It is of a beautiful, shaded blush, and the form and arrangement of its petals are all that can be desired. Another superb member of this family is " Paul Ricaut." This, too, is magnificent in its form, size, and in the rich crim- son of its hue. " Charles Duval " is also a fine variety. The "Hybrid Perpetuals." — It is difficult to individualize many of a class, all of whose members are so valuable and so attractive. Of the crimson roses of this class, we have the peerless " Geant de Batailles " and its descendants ; ", Lord Raglan " and " Cardinal Patrizzi ;" the fiery " Gen- eral Jacquiminot," so exquisite in its dazzling brightness ; and " Gloire de Sautenay," more novel but worthy of one of the highest places on the list, besides others of more chastened hues, such as " Julos Margottin," " Louise Odier," " Reiue do Fleurs," " Comtesse de Chabrillian," "Anna de Diesbach," and a host of others. If rose amateurs will only use a little discretion in selecting and cultivating good varieties, they will add greatly to tlio taste for fiue flowers. Never cultivate a poor kind on any account. FLORAL CALENDAR CONTINUED. May 13th. St. John the Silent, Conifrey ( Sympkitum Officinale. J May 1 1th. St. Pontius, Pjeoilia, (Panin. Corallina.) May 15th. St. Dympna, Welsh Foppy, (I'apaver Cambricvm.) May 16th. St. John Neponiucen, Star of Jiethlehem, {Ornitlio/f/um Umbdtalum.) May 17th. St. Paschal Babylon, Red Poppy, (Pnpnver Argcmone.) May 18th. St. Eric, Monsc-Ear, (I/ieracum Pi/osel/a.) May 19th. St. Deuistau, Monk's-hood, (Acomtam Napellus.) Iris. 2 THE CAL:F0RN1AN. | May 26th NOT H U N G" E X 0 D G H . WE do uot, as a nation, hang so niauy culprits as in by- gone years. We may by and by cease to inflict this awiul punishment at all. But so long as the law, and religion, and justice, and public sentiment are considered to warrant the continuance of this ancieut mode of retribution, so long ought there to be no mock ?ry, no mistake, no trickery about it. If a man survives after hanging, without a proof of his innocence accompanying his recovery, it would be infinitely better to society (of his wretclied self we say nothing) that he had not been hanged at all ; seeing that the sense of a just punishment would be swallowed up in a kind of pity for the novelty of his position. Now such things have occurred, sufficiently often to merit attention. Men have recovered their lives — or rather retained life under nearly desperate circumstances — in spite of what seemed to be a due infliction of the punishment of death by- suspension. Something of this possibility of escape was ow- ing to the mode in which the punishment was usually inflicted ; aud to many it may probably be unknown that a change has beeu made in recent times in the construction and arrange- ment of the apparatus for carrying out the last great penalty of the law. For something like six hundred years, at any rate, such es- capes have from time to time been recorded. In 1264, there was a woman named Inctta de Balsliatu condemned to death for collusion with robbers ; she was hanged, and remained on the gibbet (if the records of the time are to be trusted) no less than three days ; and yet she survived to receive pardon from Henry III. In 1313, Mathew o( Enderby was hauged for some crime of which he had been convicted ; he was cut down, aud revived just before the body was about to be in- terred. In 13C3, Walter Wyukeburn was hanged at Leices- ter ; when cut down, he was carried in a cart to the cemetery of the Holy Sepulchre in that city ; he gradually regained I sensibility while the cart was rumbling along, and escaped with life. Similar cases occurred in the fifteeutli and sixteenth centuries. The seventeenth century was exceptionally full of such instances. Dr. Plot meutions the strange lot of a .Swiss, on the authority of Dr. Obadiab Walker, Master of Univer- sity College ; this man is said to have been hung no less than thirteen times without losing his life ; his windpipe having been converted by disease into a substance almost as hard as a bone. No instance has been so much discussed and written about as that of Anne Green, which took place during the time of the Commonwealth. Judges and physicians alike referred to it, as affording illustrations for or against legal and medical testimony. This poor girl wa3 executed at Marston in Ox- fordshire, on December 14, 1C50, for infanticide, a charge which could only be proved against her by much straining of the law ; this severity, and a knowledge of the wrong she had suffered in other ways, made her an object of much public sympathy. The hangiug was accompanied by certain coarse and shocking pulliugs aud strikings of the body and limbs, which in those days were supposed to insure more effectually the death of the victim, aud to lessen the period of suffering. After hanging the usual time, she was cut down, actually trampled on while prostrate, and left with the rope unslackeued round her neck. She was put into a coffin, and consigned to the doctors for dissection. To the surprise of all, when the coffin was opened, the bosom was seen gently to heave ; upou which, brutal blows and pressure were brought into requisition. The incident was too remarkable, however, to remain con- cealed ; and men of superior position took up the matter. Sir William Petty, Dr. Walli3, aud Dr. Clarke, who at that time filled the three offices or Professor of Anatomy, Presi- dent of Magdalen College, aud Yice-Chaucellor of Oxford University, beiug present at the intended dissectiou, perceived that the heaving of the bosom was followed by a alight rat- tling in her throat. " Hereupon," said Dr. Plot, " desisting from their former purpose, they presently used nieaus for her recovery by opening a vein, laying her iu a warm bed, and using divers remedies respecting her senselessness, head, throat, aud chest ; iusouiuch that within fourteen hours she began to speak, aud the next day talked aud prayed heartily. During the time of this her recovering, the officers concerned iu her execution would needs have had her away again to have it completed on her ; but by the mediation of the worthy doc- tors aud some other friends with the then governor of the city, Colonel Kelsey, there was a guard set upon her to hinder all further disturbance till he had sued out her pardon from the powers then in being ; thousands of people in the uieau- tiine coming to see her, and magnifying th* just providence of God iu thus asserting her innocence of murder." It is not stated by Dr. Plot whether the medical men satis- fied themselves concerning the cause, anatomical or physio- logical, of her preservation ; but they sought to ascertain whether there were any peculiar mental phenomena connected with her recovery. They found that the half hour of hang- ing bad left no special impression on her memory. " She came to herself as if she had awakened out of a sleep — uot recovering the use of her speech by slow degrees, but in a nanucr altogether [all at once,] beginning to speak wh she left off on the gallows." Among all the printed narra- tives of this remarkable case, there is none that offers a clear) explanation ; and we are left to our surmises ou the subject. I There was a strong religious bias in the public mind at that period, and this feeling led to a belief iu the direct interposi- tion of Heaven in Anne Green's tavor. The undergraduates of Oxford University viewed the matter in another light ; they sought to exercise their wit and poetry on it, and there have been preserved twenty or thirty epigrams written by them, and signed with their names— one of which was " Mr. Christopher Wren." Anne Green, having received a pardon after this strange resuscitation, retired with her friends to Steeple Bartou, where she married, had a family, and died iu 1659. Somewhat about the same period, one Gordon, a highway- man, was condemned for execution. He found means, when his sentence was no longer doubtful, to obtain the aid of a young surgeon, who, shortly before the execution, fixed a small tube through an opening cut in the wind-pipe. The artifice failed in its intended effect in this case ; the culprit, being a very heavy man, drew down with too great a weight ; he breathed for a few minutes when removed alter hanging, but did not recover. In 1658, a female servant was hanged for some crime at Oxford ; she was kept hanging a longer time than usual, probably on account of the wonderful resuscitation of Anne Green a few years before. She was cut down, aud the body allowed to fall to the grouud with much violence ; yet she lived ; but the severity of the law insisted upon her undergoing a second and more fatal hanging. There has, it appears, beeu a difference of opinion among legal authorities concerning this double infliction of the sentence. Some con- tend that if a man is hanged, that is enough ; if the execu- tioners do their work clumsily, he ought uot to be?r the con- sequences, but rather should be given " the benefit of the doubt." On the other hand, it is contended that the seutence means execution, and that execution means hanging by the neck until the culprit be dead ; so that if the hanging fails once, it must be tried again. In 1697, one Richard Johnson was hanged at Shrewsbury for murder. For a purpose which he planned while in prison, he obtained a promise that his dead body should be laid iu a coffin without being stripped. His purpose was detected a little too soou ; for life being observed iu him after he had hung half an hour, a man was sent up the ladder to examine into the probable cause of this prolouged vitality. It was found that Johnson had twisted cords around aud under his body, connected with two rings or hooks near his neck ; a double shirt and a perwig with flowing curls concealed these contrivances. The poor wretch was stripped of his ingenious apparatus, aud hanged a second time more effectually. In 1705, a burglar, named John Smith, was hanged at Tyburn ; a reprieve came alter he had been hanging abont fifteen minutes ; he was immediately cut down, removed to a neigh- boring house, bled by a surgeon, and restored to life. The case of Margaret Dickson was one that excited great interest at Edinburgh iu 1724. She was hanged for infanticide ; the body was cut down, placed in a colfiu, aud removed in a cart to Musselburgh by her friends, with a view to interment iu the parish churchyard. The jolting of the cart, aud the ad- mission of air through some injury which the coffin sustained, appear to have combined iu resuscitating the woman ; for she showed evident signs of life before the cart had proceeded one- third of the distance. She was removed, revived, prayed with by a minister, and received back luto the circle of her friends. She lived creditably mauy years afterwards, had a large family, aud sold salt about the streets of Edinburgh — where she was known, on accouut of her strange escape, us " rlalf- hauged Maggie." William Duell was one of those who have revived when almost under the dissecting knife. This man was hanged for murder, on a gibbet put up at Acton, in 1740. After hang- ing for twenty miuutes, the body was cut down, and taken to Surgeon's Hall for dissection. The attendants stripped and washed the body, and the surgeons prepared for their labor. Just as they were about to begin, however, they perceived faint signs of life in him ; he groaned feebly, and his breathing became gradually more and more perceptible. They bled him, aud iu the evening he was able to sit up again. He was conveyed back to prisou ; but there was too much public excitement to justify the authorities in hanging him again. In two days he recovered his health. Fever aud delirium had rendered his memory a blank, and he had lost all recollection of the hangiug. It was supposed by the surgeons that a full flow of blood at the time had enabled his system to resist the tightening of the veins, and to have thus restored him to life — uot to liberty, however, for he was afterwards transported. In 1751, Ewen Macdonald was hanged for murder. After the body was cut down, it was taken to Surgeon's Hall, and was placed ready for dissection. The operating surgeon, haviug to leave the room for a short time, was surprised on his return to see the man sitting up. Possessing more pro- fessional zeal than humanity, the surgeon took a mallet, aud killed Macdouald outright, in order not to be disappointed of an opportunity for dissection. The atrocious caso gave rise to much iudignant comment at the time. Iu 1767, a tailor, named Patrick Redmond, was hanged at Cork for highway robbery. After hanging less thau the usual time, the body was cut down, and conveyed hastily to the house of au actor named Glover, who fuuud means by friction aud fumigation to revive him. Redmond had the incredible audacity to go to the theatre on the same evening, and, to the horror of the audience, publicly thanked Glover for having saved bis life." The present century has not been without its instances. About thirty years ago, a servant girl was convicted of ad- ministering poison to the household of a farmer, in a fit of passiou at some petty injury. A legal doubt having led to a postpouemeut of the execution, the steady demeanor of the girl led to her being employed as a servant by the jailor at Durham. One morning, the govamor received, much to his regret, and to the regret of many of the citizens, an order for the immediate execution of the girl. She was hanged, but the rope broke : and the wretched girl remained crying at the foot of the gallows, while a man hastened off on horseback to fetch a new rope. This distressing scene was perhaps scarcely a case in point, so far as concerns resuscitation after hanging ; but it is one of the instances of deferred executions, which are so bad because they give rise to hopes destined to disappointment. In auother instance (meutioned, like the foregoing, in Notes and Queri.ts.) a boy of only thirteen or fourteen was capitally convicted, but respited indefinitely on account of his youth. He remained in jail at Worcester, was found to be a docile lad, and became a general favorite both with the jailor and the prisoners; everybody believing that his full pardon would soon come. One day, he was playing at ball in the yard, full of life and glee, when suddenly, to the utter dismay of the jailor and the inmates of the prison, an order arrived, after many weeks of delay, for the execution of the poor lad ; aud the execution accordingly took place. An instance more in point is that of a man who was executed at Tyburn, and whose apparently dead body was purchased by a surgeon for dissection, and brought to his house. A ser- vant, wishing to see the body, stole into the room, and found the man sitting upright on the dissecting-table. The surgeon, a humane man, shipped him off quietly to .America, where he amassed a fortune, which in gratitude he bequeathed to his benefactor. Sir Jonah Barrington. in his Personal Sketches, mentions the case of one Lanigan, who was hanged for the murder of one Captain O'Flaherty. Lanigan survived, by some means which are not explained ; and Sir Jouah saw him at the house of Mr. Lauder in the Temple. He was smuggled over to Abbeville, where he died mauy years afterwards in the monastery of La Trappe. Some of these momentous escapes have plainly depended on the imperfections of the gilibet as compared with the drop . These imperfections led to the abandonment of the one kind of dread apparatus for the other. Several statements have beeu made in the public journals from time to time, concern- ing " the last gibbet ;" but many of these are destitute of meaning, unless we take into the account the exact particulars of the case. In 1856, the Examiner said : " A few days ago (April.) the last gibbet erected in England was demolished by the workmen employed iu making the extensive docks for the North-Kasteru Railway Company at the Jarrow Slake, on the Tyne." This statement was shortly afterwards disputed ; for, later in the same year, a gibbet was still left standing ou Ditchling Common in Sussex. It was known among the sur- rouuding villagers as " Jacob's Post," being named after a culprit concerning whom a copy of verses was longcurreut in the neighborhood, recording among other things that At Horsham (Jallows he was bunged there, The thirty liret of August that same year ; And where he did the eriuie, they took the pains To bring bini back, ami hang bitn up in chains. It has been stated that the last gibbet erected iu England was at Saffron Lane, near Leicester, in 1832 ; it was soon afterwards removed, by order of the Secretary of State for Home Affairs. Whatever may be the exact dates, however, when the last gibbet was erected aud the last'demolished, it is certain that the drop has been almost, if not quite, substi- tuted for it in Kngland. In the old gibbet, the wretched cul- prit was turned off from a ladder, at a height which, it was supposed, would elevate him sufficiently above the grouud or platform; whereas the drop consists of a trap-door, which, being suddenly opened by the withdrawal of bolls underneath, causes the whole weight of the culprit's body to be in au in. stant at the mercy of the noose. Some of the instances of escape are doubtless attributable to the careless way in which the prisoner was turned off the scaffold, or rather ladder, on which he ascended to the gibbet ; some to the insertion ot a tube which might prevent the constriction of the throat ; some to the opening of an orifice in the windpipe by an ex- pert surgeon ; some to a natural hardening ot the windpipe, which occasionally happens ; and some to a steel collar, con- nected with an elaborate system of braces and bandages. These varieties offer elucidations of most of the cases of re- suscitation that have been recorded. Did Sir Walter Scott rely on his imagination alone, or was he depending ou a real narrative, when he wrote the striking May 26th J THE CALIFOflNIAN. 12532 3 scene of Bonthron's execution in the Fair Maid of Perth ? It will be remembered, by the readers of that novel, that Bon- thron received a hint from Dwining. the physician, that ai attempt would be made to-preserve him from any fatal result of the hanging, and that tin; hangman would be a party to the manoeuvre. The execution took place, apparently in the usual way, and the hangman remained near the suspended body about half an hour, after which lie contrived by a r'rise to get rid of the assembled multitude. Early next morning, when the populace returned to enjoy the spectacle of chaining the dead body to a permanent gallows, they were surprised ami enraged to see that the body had been removed. At midnight, it afterwards appeared, three men had quietly ap- proached the spot, cut down the body, reanimated the almost stifled wretch, and smuggled him away. One of them was Dwining, the physician, and he explained to the other two in what manner Bonthron had been specially prepared to under- go this execution scatheless. He pointed out that death by hanging results Irom a compression of the veins, which drives the blood to the brain instead of the heart, and also that the lungs, owing to the ligature of the cord around the thorax, no longer receiving the needful supply of air, another cause of suffocation arises. The problem would be, therefore, how to effect the hanging, so that neither the veins nor the windpipe should be too much compressed. Dwining solved this prob- lem thus, as described by himself: "I get me certain band- ages, made of the same substance with your horse girths, hav- ing especial care that they are of a kind which will not shrink by being strained, since that would spoil my experi- ment. One loop of this substance is drawn under each foot, and returns up either side of the leg to a cincture with which it is united ; these cinctures are connected by divers straps down the breast and back, in order to divide the weight, and there are sundry other conveniences for easing the patient ; but the chief is this. The straps or ligatures are attached to a broad sj,eel collar, curving outwards, and having a hook or two, Tor the better security of the halter, which the friendly executioner passes around that part of the machine, instead of applying it to the bare throat of the patient. Thus, when thrown eff from the ladder, the sufferer will find himself sus- pended, not by the neck, if it please you, but by the steel circle that supports the loops in which his feet are placed, and on which his weight really rests, diminished a little by similar supports under each arm. Thus, neither veins nor windpipe being compressed, the man will breathe as free, and his blood, saving from fright and novelty of situation, will flow as tem- perately, as your valiencies', when you stand up in your stir- rups to view a field of battle." Sir Walter's description thus involves one among many of the considerations relative to this peculiar kind of resusci- tation. A TASTE FOR GLASS HOUSES. r"TUIE leaders of French society — the stars, literary and JL artistic, they who set the fashions, or own millions — have a decided taste for dwelling in glass houses. I have more than once sent you some samples of the intrusive quality of the Paris chroniqueur. They were samples, it would seem, however, of an art that was in its infancy. They were mere glimpses at the interior of people's houses. We had just a peep at the great man in his slippers, or the notorious lady in her robe de chambre; the veil was iust lifted, and then quickly dropped. It occurred naturally to English readers, that even these peeps into the privacy of notable people must be offered to the unwholesome appetite of the public at the cost of great annoyance to the people who were exposed. But the French journalism of the present day proves that such an impression is a false one ; people have a taste for glass houses. They expect to have their salon and dining- rooms, the dinner they give to their friends, their getting-up and their going to bed, duly set forth in a newspaper. A year or two ago, it was only at intervals that the private life of a known man or woman was served up for public amuse- ment ; but now M.' de Villemessant appears to have given orders to his staff of writers to set a glass front in the house of every uotability in the French capital. A few days since he led one of his writers to the house of Baron James de Rothschild, and having persuaded the Baron to admit his ckroniijueur into his kitchen, left his scribe with a uote-book to follow the Baron's cordon bleu and his butler through the departments of the baronial kitchen and wine-cellar. The chroniqueur, with his note-book, seems to have amused the kitchen-maids aud scullions as he took notes amid the game, the pastry, and the wines ; but he did his duty for his master, and came forth with a note even on the Baron's partiality for truffles and pheasants. He was about to pass through the gates into the street, when he was requested to step into the Baron's bureau for a moment ; the Baron had reflected, and begged the chroniqueur, whom he had thoughtlessly a3mitted into his kitchen, not to make copy out of his sauces, his lar- der, and his cellar. The writer says that he bowed pro- foundly, but made the Baron no answer ; and he printed his notes, justifying himself by saying, that, had he asked the Baron ou the eve of the issue of the Austrian Loan, not to put it on the market, the Baron would nat have submitted to the request of a " plumitif." Then why should not the "plumilif" make copy out of the Baron's kitchen? The Baron is timid and too modest. M. Jules Valles serves up M. Paul Feval as a public dish, and provokes no rebuke from this gentleman ; his table cov- ered with papers, his children playing on the grass in the gar- den, his bath-room and his billiard-room, are the writer's property. We are told that he is threatened with an *.' innu- merable paternity ;" for he has already six children, the eldest of whom is not more than seven years of age. From Paul Feval M. Valles turns to Emile de Girardin's last weekly reception ; this gives him an excellent opportu- nity of painting the late editor of La Presse at home, sur- rounded by journalists. An editor in the lap of luxury is a refreshing picture : "There was a great deal of lively conversation — not bro- ken up into little private discussions, but general. One sub- ject only was discussed, but what that subject was I have no right to mention. I have never seen the editor of the Presse surrounded by more sympathy or listened to wilh more atten- tion. Never, also, did his conversation take a more fami- liarly eloquent, decided tone. There were present MM. de Fonvielle and Bekmann, of the Temps; M. Hector Pessard, of the Epoqae ; MM. Cohen and Escudier, of the France^ M. Duelling, of the Opinon Nalioiude ; M. Ganesco repre- sented V Europe and the Nain Juane ; M. Emile Ollivier was expected, but his Achates only was forthcoming. "There was but one deputy, M. Eugene Pelletau, who still talked of Proudhon ; the puritan maltreated speech as he had already done his pen. Besides the above-named, there were MM. Lebey, Turgan, Yriarte, and many others that I do not know, or that I forget. The whole body of the Presse was there ; the contributors, eager and animated, surrounding their chief, who was full of fire and verve. " Very few assembled till ten o'clock, so I profited by my earlier arrival to wander about the library, where the lamps above the books lit up the pictures, marbles, and bronzes. Antiquities are not abundant ; some of the bronzes are of ancient date, but the greater part appear by their signature to belong to the present day. At the foot of a charming statuette was the following inscription : ' Jiaporte d'Alhenes par le Prince Napoleon, 1851.' Close at hand is the portrait of the Piince en robe de chambre, by Gavarni. There is a characteristic sketch, by Delacroix, of Dante and Virgil, aud one by Chaseriau, of a woman entering the bath — a perfect episode of the Tcpidarium. A paiuting by Gigioux, if I remember rightly, represents M. de Girardin as a Roman — decollete; he looks like a thin Vitellius. Another canvas por- trays him in a black coat ; elegant and clever. I saw the name of the Princess Mathilde very clearly written in the corner of a water-color painting hanging in the small room which is between the large salon and the library. " This library differs from most others ; it is long and nar- row, like a passage, and, as it were, skirts the house; the books are on the shelves, the highest of which is only up to one's breast, so that there is no need to climb steps, or put one's arm out of joint in order to get a particular volume : all are within reach ; and in this plan I recognize the simple and practical mind of the master of the house. Another sign is a drawing of a plau for the opening of the Rue de Rivoli, according to the design of M. de Girardin, and bearing date 1832 — thirty-four years ago! The proposed plan has not been quite carried out. According to that, the pavement was to be raised, and to be reached by steps and a railing. Amongst the marbles, two superb busts of Madame Emile de Girardin, a statue and a statuette, signed ' Pradier,' are con- spicuous. " The souvenir of Rachel is everywhere ; a chair has her name engraved on it. In one place is a reduction of the celebrated portrait by Gerome, also vigorously painted by the same hand. In another is a fine drawing of the great actress ; farther on a large painting, in the corner of which I read, 'A mon veritable ami, M. Emile de Girurdin.' Then there are the two following letters : " ' Paris, January, 1858. " ' I embrace you this new year. I little thought, my dear friend, in 1858, to be able still to send you my sincere affec- tion. Rachel.' " This was written in January. The next runs thus : " ' Paris, April 21, 1858. " ' Monsieur — According to a letter dictated by Mdlle. Rachel on the day ol her death, she leaves you, as a souvenir, a gold pen ornamented with forget-me-nots.' " Poor great artiste ! " The foregoing notes were not taken yesterday. I was was unable to do more than glance round at what 1 had before takeu two hours to examine. It was ou the occasion of my first visit to M. de Girardin. 1 had been begged to wait, and I had been forgotten ! But I am not at all angry at the for- getfulness ; if I am ever anything, it is to M. Girardin I owe it." It is evident that M. de Girardin is not displeased that his debtor should pay him in this coin. But I have reserved my best illustration of the comfort it is, hereabouts, to live in glass houses till the last. In this instance no less an authority than M. Alberic Second is th writer. He introduces Alexandre Dumas in his kitchen witli great ingenuity. It seems that the culinary knowledge and skill of the author of Monte Christo had been called in ques- tion. Unhandsome detractors had said that M. Dumas could not serve up a dinner that should be worthy the knife and fork of a gourmet. M. Second had been reported as among the great Alexander's detractors ; whereupon he writes : " I had often heard that Alexandre Dumas pcre wa3 as good a cook as author ; but in spite of the affirmation of persons who brought forward the proposition, a vague scepticism with regard to it floated in- my mind. Criticise the roinan- cist, the chronicler, the dramatic author, and Alexandre Dumas will allow you to say what you please, without taking the trouble to answer it ; but attempt to criticise the cook, and you will run the risk of being pierced through by his spit. How the author of Monte Christo knew that I had not a blind faith in his culinary talents I am at a loss to imagine ; but he evidently wished to prove to me how far I was unjust in the matter of his ragouts and his sauces. ' I expect you to dine with me on Tuesday next at seven,' ran the note I received from him, ' and I warn you that I shall have a hand in all the dishes. You shall judge from experience.' Needless to say, I accepted ; but, instead of arriving at seven, I made my appearance at 107 Boulevard Malesherbes as the clock struck six, and I had my reasons for this. If M. Dumas has told me the truth, said I to myself, I shall take him by surprise in his kitchen ; if, on the other hand, I find him in his room, his study, or his salon. I shall know what to think of it. I entered one of the sumptuous houses on the Boulevard Mal- esherbes, mounted a fine staircase, and rang at the door of an appartemenl on the third story. ' M. Alexandre Dumas ?' 1 inquired ?' ' Yes, Monsieur,' replied a little groom. ' Can I see him V again I inquired. ' No, Monsieur, he is busy,' was the answer. ' Ah ! he is in his study, no doubt,' observed I. ' No, Monsieur,' replied the groom, ' he is in the kitchen.' Guided by a most savory and appetizing odor, I made my way into the antechamber, crossed a passage, and penetrated into the temple ; here I found Dumas, without coat, collar, or cravat, his shirt sleeves tucked up to his elbows, agitating a large spoon in a dazzingly bright stewpan, while giving his orders at the same time to his cook and kitchen-maid, who executed them with the greatest promptitude and intelligence. ' So it is you!' cried Dumas, on seeing me. ' I suppose you know you are an hour too soon ? You are not come to exense yourself for to-night, I hope.' When one is in the wrong, the best thing is to acknowledge it. I therefore frankly toh' him, without any beating about the bush, my motive for being beforehand in our rendezvous. Dumas, who is good-nature itself, pardoned me on condition of my going and awaiting his appearance in the salon, where the other guests presently dropped in one by one. Our host quickly joined us, and at seven o'clock the groom threw open the door and announced, ' Monsieur is served.' O, dear great man ! whatever has been said — whatever you may have said your- self touching your culinary science — you cannot have said enough ; and I call the guests of Tuesday to witness. What a success ! what a triumph ! — a diner bourgeois, such as princes do not taste every day! We set out with a cabbage soup, at which Dumas had labored for two days ; then fol- lowed fried smelts. To these succeeded a jugged hare, fol- lowed by a ragout of mutton a la Ilongroise. Then came roast pheasants, ecrevisses a la Bordelaise, and a salad of maches, celery and boot-root. I pass over in silence the vegetables, intrements and rocher de glace prepared by hire- ling hands. It may be interesting to observe that the hares and pheasants had been killed a few days before by our host himself, at a hunting party at M. Joubert's. It was difficult, as will be at once seen, to select simpler dishes, but impos- sible to eat anything better. I watched Alexandre Dumas when the solemn moment of mixing the salad arrived, as I am myself not without pretensious to a certain strength in this department, so essential to every well-organized repast. In presence of the chefs d'wuvre, which I saw seasoned be- fore me, and which I tasted with a sensuality full of emotion and respect, it only remained to me to acknowledge my infe- riority. I now confess it publicly. If, according to my advice, Alexandre Dumas would open a restanrant near the Champs de Mars during the Exposition of 1867 — a restau- rant, be it understood, in which he would be the cook — I will undertake to say that he would realize a million of francs in six months ! Our host does not smoke, and in addition de- tests the odor of tobacco ; so that there were no cigars. In spite of this privation — a greater one than he thinks — it was necessary to turn us out at one o'clock in the morning. Du- mas gossiped on, and we were all but too happy to listen." Dumas' reputation as a cook is now established, and people do not wonder about it here as they would in London. A few dsys since a friend of mine, a physician, suddenly invited two relatives, one of them a physician also, home to dinner. The lady of the house was horrified ; not a scrap ot dinner was prepared. " Never mind," said the doctor, " we'll cook the dinner ;" and he and his non-professionnl friend ' repaired to the kitchen, sent for a pheasant, and in due time produced an exquisite dinner, including a risutto that was pronounced superb. 4 THE CALjFORN IAN | May 26th [For tlic CMifornlan.| EMBROIDERY. TN the rich rosy light of the window, She sits, so bewitcbingly fair, Her face glancing out from the shadow Of the queer, old-fashioned arm chair. Glancing ont, with her face like a lily, From the cushion of crimson and gold, With that glistening robe of white satin Floating over her, fold upon fold ; With her foot in the daintiest slipper — Ah, the gipsy! she kjiows how it charms ! — And the soft, slender, tapering lingers, And the snowy-white, gem-circled arms ; With the pearls looping back the dark tresses — Those warm, wavy curls of brown hair! And the cheek, with its faint tinge of opal, And the shoulders, so dazzlingly fair : There she sits at her ease, in her beauty. With the face and the air of a queen ! Not a rose-bud she daintily fashions, Half-sheathed in the delicate green Of its leaves, nor those great golden lilies- No blossom or bud one can name — So fair as the face bending over The glowing embroidery frame. As she lifted her dark, hazel eyes then, Did that quick glance of hers understand How wofully little the wiser I grew from the book in my hand, That the rose of her cheek kept unfolding Its delicate crimson, the while, And the wise little mouth dimpled over With Buch an arch, coquettish smile? Oh, her needles are Cupid's own arrowB, And this garland a spell which she weaves Bound my soul, while she ruthlessly sittches Jly quivering heart in those leaves ! IFor the OihforiiKin.] MY FRIEND, THE COSMOPOLITAN. A TALE OF WAR, FRIENDSHIP, AND AGONY. AFTER THE FRENCH. — BY "PHILIP." CHAPTER L 4t T AGAIN bid you farewell," he said, looking skyward _L " Why ?" I asked. " The fates master me and lead me away." " Cannot the fates be appeased ? Foryour companionship's eake I will offer bribes," I said. " You cannot avail by your noble endeavors. I feel," said he, " the strength of powers I cannot see or comprehend. I sec a hand you cannot see, that beckons me away." " This," I replied, " is a new and a fresh disappointment to me. You come. 1 welcome you. You stay bufr a moment, and extend your hand ior a farewell grasp." " My present is like my past ; my future, I believe, will be like my present. 'Twas ever thus !" " Alas ! alas I" I cried, " from childhood's hour. Again do you pursue your way upon the sea ?" " Again the blue rolling wave is to be my path. I leave you, about whom my affections so fondly cling. My step- sister, who dwells fur away, I left years ago, and she awaits my return. I never write to her. But you, who now grasp my hand, I will never forget nor cease writing letters to. Peace be with you. Remember the ides of March. 1 believe I will then return," ho continued, " bringing with me sheaves. Take these my last verses ; read them when 1 am far away. Adios." So passed out of my sight Clarence, the friend of my youth, changed from hiin of former years, with whom I had quietly pursued the road to knowledge. Then he was demurely con tent, and did not question the facts of geography nor seek to verify them by personal experience. He read the history of Herodotus, but never asked to go to the seats of ancient em- pires or republics to assure himself of the possibility of the historic ages. He has lain upon his back on the mead in sum- mer evenings and found the places of the stars and quoted the learning of the Professor of Physics, from the morning's lec- ture, but an inland home had made him fond of the stability of the earth, whose daily revolutions did not turn his stomach, gad rjever longed to ascertain by sight the position or beauty of the Southern Cross, because his geographical knowledge and the advertisements in the Evening Journal assured him he would be obliged to veuture upon the sea to pursue his taste for the astronomies. CHAPTER It Thf. years that have passed since we were together, have brought Clarence out of the reach of hi9 adolescence, and the Fates, using him like a teetotum, have twirled him so that he has been bruised and developed on all skies of his nature. Recently they twirled him into my arms again. I looked at him in amazement, as he appeared and disappeared on the arena of my life. A good many months ago — perhaps all the months would be better called a lew years — he came iuto the routine of my experience, suddenly, unheralded, and as unexpectedly as the gentleman who lives in the moon. " This is my Ricardo, whom I love." " This is my Clarence, whom I love." " Whence do you come," after an interval of salutation, I enquired. " Ah ! The world has not been kind to me. The Gends are abroad. The enemies of my country have arisen. I have seen the strife, have mingled with it, have fought upon the seas, have wearied of the restless turmoil of war, and have come to these skies, not to rest, no, not to rest, but destined to wander, wander, until the reign of peace shall come.'" '• Stay, stay with me," I answered. " Rest here. You will not hear the sound of the battle— the enemy is not here. The telegraphic despatches in the evening papers will be a balm to your unquiet nerves. Rest with nae, perturbed spirit." " I do not think my spirit is turbid, but I must away. I shall go mad if I go not." " I do not understand you," I answered. " You are not the Clarence of early days. If you are indeed he, take this Elixir of Life, mixed in the same proportions which I know you loved once." The old calmness came back to his face, and there was not lelt there a memory of his recent unrest. For two short hours I gained again the fellowship of Clarence, my early friend, and we returned to the old, old days and the old famil- iar faces. A night's repose obliterated the calmness that sat so well upon him, the evidence of which I found under my door the next day : " Dearest Ricardo — These are lines of farewell. This night 1 sleep again upon the seas. I will return anon. Clarence." Whither had flown this restless soul? At daybreak the sloop-ol war Sinagaw slipped her cables and steamed out to- wards the Golden Gate. The fever was still in the blood of Clarence, and he was not at rest until he was again in motion on the waves. There was more than a ripple upon the water, but not a rough sea. The little steam vessel ploughed her way vigorously through the water, meeting each wave that seemed to throw up a protest against her advance, with a sibi- lant swush-sh sh-h, swush-sh-sh. swush sh -sh sh sh. My logic could not convince his activity to repose, bnt the dancing water and the recurring swush-sh sh lulled him to calmness. CHAPTER III. A few months passed away, and I met on the highway my friend seeking my sanctum. " I have just arrived from the North. 1 have been playing with the white bear and the walrus. They have been my constant companions. 1 have climbed the iceberg, and dared the rigors of the Pole. The Arctic or Antarctic seas have no horror for me. I have caressed the lair Esquimaux, and drank the oleaginous toddy of the northern bibler. Doei war carniverous still gnaw at my country's heart?" " It doth," I responded, briefly ; " the Norman and the Southron still contend." With his left hand pressed against his brow — that bore the insignia of an inheritance from patriotic blood — he stayed his steps, raised his eyes towards the sky, and whispered : " My step sister 1 Cannot see — the home of my childhood is as il it wasn't — and I must wander still." I said : " At least, you will rest one night upon the land. You will polate with me ol the Elixir— Ruinpunch — as of yore. I demand it of you by the memories which are yours." Even while I was talking, he glided from nip. CHAPTER IV. My friend was vibratory as a pendul Jin, but returning unto me with the irregularity of a cloudy day. lie appealed to be attached in some mysterious and official manner with the Central Government, yet why, in time of trouble, he should consider his duty accomplished in seeking its fulfillment at those posts furthest from tumult, 1 never quite understood. The seasons or the months did not control his coming or departure. I encountered him in the windy days of June, and he exclaimed that since he left me the other day — perhaps four months before — he had experienced an interview with the typhoons of the Western Seas, but that they were gentle zepyrs, compared with a San Francisco summer day. The quieter days of autumn brought him soon afterwards into my presence. "Just eleven days ago, I dined with my excellent friend, the Governor of Chihuahua. I liked not his frijoles, but would not object to a life-lease of his immense opulence. Like all true, intelligent Mexicans, he believes the consummation of liberty and justice is to be found in Mexico as a Republic. Between us, Ricardo, that district of country will be the prey of incursions aud ravages until it shall come uuder the pro- tecJion of the a?gis of our own great nation." A rather lofty flight for Clarence. He was a patriot, but bad achieved no great repute as a statesman. He knew the senoritus of Lima, for I have heard his conversation, " as musical as is Apollo's lute," melodious with their praises, and have seen his pockets wealthy with the images of those who had been honored by his admiration. He had deigned to be smiled upon by the-exuberant beauties of that southern clime for several weeks. He forgot lor the nonce the exist- ence of his dear country, and knew not if it had a heart on which the fiends of war might guaw. But his knowledge of the gentlemanly warriors of the country that adjoius his own was very limited — bounded not by his experience, but by his diligence in perusing the newspapers of the districts he occasionally visited. CHAPTER V. Clarence was tossed betweeu the continents like a shuttle- cock. He rested on neither of them, but lived in the nowliero whose boundaries are the continents. I call him the Cosmo- politan, because he knew by experience as much of one part of the globe as of another. » " Good morrow to thee, thou spiritless worm," he exclaimed to me oue dry when I thought the sunshine of fortune had given a new glow to my lace. " flow dost thou live on the land in contact with the monotonous character of a single race of people. You know not the earth. I glide from laud to land and regard not the difference of the families of men. I have sported but yesterday with the kangatoo of New Hol- land ; I have laughed at the hyena of Asiatic Turkey, aud the hyena has laughed at me. The sweet-breathed children of the Celestial Empire 1 have met in their native pagodas, and have barely missed shaking haifds with the King of the Cannibal Islands." " As in my youth, I love you still ; but tax not my credulity, lest in a moment of unfriendly suspicion I ask you to step be- hind me, calling you Satan." He did not distrust me. " If the enemies of my country but ceased to gnaw at her throbbing heart, I would rest." " They have ceased," I replied. " What i lias peace come again, and my country not come to pieces, but — saved ?" " Saved !" 1 answered. " The Angel of Truth speaks to me, Bicardo ?" " I now represent that mythical person." " One other question. Has the Executive of the country been true to humanity? Has he shown mercy? Has that mercy been tempered with justice ? In the exercise of divine clemency, has he not proclaimed pardou to the lost, the erring, the benighted aud ignorant enemies of our couutry?" " He has fulfilled more than the demands of justice. Per- sons so sunk in the depths of ignorance as not to have at- tained high rank or not to be worth the paltry sum of twenty thousand dollars in greenbacks, have been pardoned." " Can they roam at their own sweet will?" " Anywhere, anywhere under the sun." '• My heart rejoices at this evidence of returned reason, justice and humanity. 1 advocate clemency. 1 embrace you in my inestimable joy." You have seen the flaming sun decline from his meridian glow ; you have heard the roaring oceau subside to n whis- pering murmur, as if to lull his kingdom to sleep. So came the glow of unnatural excitement from the face of my Clar- ence. So gently attuned his wild accents to the sweeter tones of his nature. Theu, first since I met him on these dis- tant shores, did he seem to wear the becoming habiliments of gentle peace. I found a more sympathetic humanity ; the old lustre came bi'ck a rain to the recovered jewel. CIIA1TEE VI. It was quite remarkable to me to witness such sublime lovo of country. This nonle fellow had thrown up home, companions, a step-sister of whom he spake so affectionately, and whom I had reason to believe he dearly loved — everything that seemed to render life ha, py — aud had fled to these uttermost parts of the earth, to the life on the sea, in order to escape the constant rumors of war and the oft-told tales of battle and misery. His soul was sick. And then, after his restless wanderings, 1 could scarcely comprehend the sublime mag- nanimity that would forgive his country's enemies, and forget the wrongs they had done. 1 said to myself : " My soul, take on these larger virtues. See how worthily they adorn the per- son ol thy friend." He had so subdued himself, that he could almost jest when speaking of some incidents which were narrated of tho wily rebels. Upon his library table in the lodgings he had taken, I saw one day a little brass button. He tossed it in his hands, even lovingly as a toy that pleased him, and theu rolled it towards nie with a look that inquired if I had seen a rebel ornament. And on it 1 read the C. S. A., that made it a cut iosity to be kept for one's children. To my uuawakened sagacity there was no significance iu this single possession. But he had other relics of the war that had so rent his heart. In his open porfolio I perceived something that appeared like May 26th) THE CALIF ORNIAN 5 rather coarsely engraved paper. " Some of the money," he said, carelessly, " which pays for raiment and cigars in Dixie." But why should he carry it so carefully laid away— the scrip which all the rational world knew was worthless ? He was loath to part with any to me, who would take a specimen as a curiosity. As we passed out of his apartment that day, after a lengthy indulgence in cigars and a learned discussion about nothing of any importance whatever, the door of his wardrobe swung open, and I caught a glimpse at a suit of gray hanging against the wall, with brass buttons, one of which was missing. To my friendly eyes, there was at that moment nothing of special meaning in a suit of gray. Black or blue would have been as meaningless, and, to my own taste, much more sensible garment for the season. Beneath his opeu wiudow I passed homeward from an en- tertainment elsewhere one moonlight evening, and I heard his well-modulated voice bearing out ou to the evening air the words of an unfamiliar song — now raised, as if in the excited strain of a battle-song — now subdued to the sweeter tones of the peace that follows after victory. I caught only these words : So rest we when the battle's tloue, So rest the South when victory's won ; The Northern vandals one by one Sball bito the dust they tread. This was my friend's voice. I was not mistaken. After vainly listening to catcli other words of the song, I passed on. The fearful truth burst upon me like the morning sunlight. He bad deceived me. He had played with my friendship. I had been an enemy to my country, by being a friend aud compauion of this cosmopolitan. Strange, my eyes had been closed. Why had 1 forgotten the laud of his birth — the home of his boyhood, in the southern clime — in the proximity of the rice swamps, where he had breathed the miasma of rebellion from his childhood? I had seen in him only the friend of my cloister life. But, might I not be mistaken? Let the shadows of night pass away and the morning come, and I will meet him and challenge his patriotism. Tho dreadful reflection that I had been deceived oppressed me. My blood was heated. I reached my chamber. My head seemed as if it would be bursted. Yes, yes. He had played me. But why such profuse professions of patriotism, if he — The thought was tearing my heart. I ceased to think. I sought repose in my French double-bed, aud slept a troubled, dreamy sleep. CHAPTER VII. Early the next morning I discovered upon my table letters from the East. One of them was from auother dear friend, who detailed to me, among other incidents of the death, fame, misfortunes, and glory of old companions, what in fewer words 1 narrate here. " Had I heard of our old and loving friend, Clarence, who, living in the lands of vilest rebeldom, had im- bibed from the first the poisonous principles now attempting to be carried out? He had been made -a Lieutenant in the Bebel service ; had fought ; been wounded ; taken prisoner by the loyal troops ; had been led by the Sanitary Commission, that great minister of soups, jellies, and new blankets, had recovered and finally had escaped, and was now, it was thought, in Canada or somewhere else." I could not read farther. My heart ached again. " 1 will go aud seek him," i said to myself — but did not. Fate trips us in our eagerest moments. 1 received at that moment a note in the autograph of Clar- ence : < " Deakest R'CARDO — I have just received a telegram an- nouncing the dangerous illness of my step sister. 1 flee to her by the overland route this morning. Write me. J would 1 could talk once more to you of the glorious achievements of war. 1 have wept for my country, but now rejoice. When you sing again the songs of loyalty, U ! think of me. Clarence." This was a moment for reflection. He had gone and 1 should not have to seek him. But to remember that I had been deceived ! — as I before remarked. My thoughts flew backward to that hour in his room. That button. I saw the truth. It had become loosened and had fallen from the left breast of his coat of gray. That coat of gray and those trousers of the same color were his, of course, but. they were more : they were the uniform of Clarence, the Rebel Lieutenant. That coarse paper in his portfolio. It was the little change he had about him when he was taken prisoner. My thoughts flew further backward. Why did he wander on the sea ? He feared the vigilance of his country's government would pursue, capture, aud exe- cute an escaped prisoner and a traitor. Why did he commend and dwell upon the humanity and justice meted out by the Executive of his country when peace came ? Alas ! He had not risen to higher rank than that of Lieutenant, and was not worth the paltry sum of twenty thou- sand dollars, greenbacks. He was free — a pardoned though unworthy rebel. I placed my hand upon my brow. I looked upward. I said, " My soul! his virtues were not large. Assume something large to thyself. Pardon him in the name of this country, for he knoweth not everything that he doth." My soul was at peace. Struggling with my tears, I forgave the Cosmopolitan. LIFE IN HAVANA. THE custom-house was an apartment as big as a barn — all the rooms in Havana are enormous. The floor was in" tolerably dirty ; but the roof was a magnificent opeu timber one, the timber being solid beams of delightfully fragrant cedar. So you had the Augean Stables underneath, and Solo- mon's Palace in all his glory above — not an uncommon con- trast in Cuba. The custom-house officers gave us very little trouble. I addressed the first gentleman with a cockade I met as seiior — I should perhaps have called him caballero — begged a cigar light from him, and slipped a dollar into his hand. He opened one of my trunks, let a little tobacco-smoke into the orifice to fumigate it, and then dismissed me with a very low bow. Then I was handed to a little grated wicket, where another official, who was smoking so desperately that he sat, as it were, in the midst of a fleecy cloud, like one of Sir James Thornhill's allegories in the painted hall at Greenwich, asked me my name and country, and delivered to me a printed license to reside in Cuba for the space of three calendar months, which was very kind on his part, seeing that I only intended to remain in the island until the West India mail packet came in from St. Thomas. This license cost a good deal of money, four.or five dollars, I think : and I noticed that when the offi- cial had filled up the form, he was a very long time handing it from a small pepper-castor, and looked very hard at me. 1 know, from long experience, what being intently regarded by an official of the Latin race means, and so " executed " myself without delay. We parted the best of friends, and I was peseta the poorer. I was now free to proceed to an hotel ; but this was much more easily said than done. In the first place, there were no public conveyances about, save the volantes, which are vehi- cles far too ethereal to carry heavy luggage ; in the next, to find any tolerably comfortable hotel in Havana is a labor which, had it been imposed on Hercules, might ha'-e caused that strong man to be a little less conceited about his triumph over the Erymanthian boar and the eleven other difficulties. The wealthy and splendid city ol Havana is worse off for ho- tels than any other in the civilized world. Tho Antilles, per- haps, cannot be held as belonging entirely to civilization ; but, as the " Queen " of the Antilles, I think Havana might main- tain at least one decent inn. There is an hotel in the Flaza Isabella Segunda, close to tho Tacon Theatre, kept by one Legrand, a Frenchman ; but I had heard dismal reports of its cleanliuess, and it was situated, besides, beyond the walls, whereas I wanted to be near the Plaza de Armas and the sea. There is a very excellent boarding-house, clean, comfortable, aud well appointed, kept by Mrs. Almi, an American lady; but her accommodation is limited, and her establishment is nearly always as " complete " as a Parisian omnibus on a wet day. I have been told, also, that there is a slight drawback to the comfort you enjoy at Mrs. Ahni's, in the fact of the house being the chosen resort of consumptive invalids from the United States, who have fled from the asperity of the northern winter to the warmer sky of Cuba. But they are often in the penultimate stage of the disease when they land ; they don't get better ; aud it is apt to spoil your dinner — so I was told — when inquiring for your next neighbor of the day before, who talked so charmingly of the last opera, and so hopefully of the coming bull-6ght;'you are informed that he has been dead lor some hours, and will be buried this sundown in the Potters' field. You grow accustomed to this at last ; for it may be said, without exaggeration, life in these regions of vcmito andfever resembles life on board a man-o'-war in war-time. You are very merry with Jack and Tom overnight ; and on the morrow Jack is " knocked over," and Tom "loses the number of his mess," and you say, '• Poor Jack I" " Poor Tom !" Their clothes are sold by auctiou before the mast, ami you forget all about the event. With the exception of Legrand's and Mrs. Almi's, the inns ol Havana aie all very like what I should imagine the fundus and posadas of old Spaiu, away from Madrid, to be. 1 had heard such dreadful stories about them, that, blinking the pulmonary drawback, I determined to try Mrs. Almi's. By this time, with the assistance of several winning and grinning negroe3, who danced with delight at the gift of a very small silver coin — I never saw any copper money at Havana — my luggage had been piled on a machine closely resembling one of those miniature drays in England, on which a very small barrel of beer is drawn by a very big horse, conducted by a very big man. The beast of draught was in this ease a bul- lock, with an enormou3 gole, not over his shoulders, but right across his head. The poor animal certainly earued his bread by the sweat of his brow ; and, to judge from his lean flanks and protruding bones, I should infer that the jerked beef he might furnish, subsequent to his demise, would be dear at threepence a pound. The conductor, who sat the horse side saddle fashion, was a prodigious old negro whose wool had turned white, and whose wicked old head— he was such a nasty-looking old man — was surmounted by a ragged straw hat. He was singing, of course, occasionally varying that recreation by skinning and gobbling the pulp of some oranges, of which he had a pocketful, and, on the whole, took things very easily. I presume he was a slave. I was bound to walk behind this sable drayman, for, although I -might have taken a volante, was it not my duty to follow my luggage ? And, but for an uncomfortable fancy that if I stepped on the dray and sat beside my trunk 1 should look like a traitor being drawn to execution at Tyburn on a sledge, I would have patronized that mode of locomotion. POPULAR FALLACIES. THAT warm air must be impure, and that, consequently, it is hurtful to sleep in a comparatively warm room. A warm room is as easily ventilated as a cool one. The warm air of a close vehicle is less injurious, be it ever so foul from over-crowding, than to ride and sit still and feel uncom- fortably cold for an hour. The worst that can happen from a crowded conveyance is a fainting spell ; while sitting, even less than an hour, in a still, chilly atmosphere, has induced attacks of pneumonia, that is, inflammation of the lungs, which often proves fatal in three or four days. It is always positively injurious to sleep in a close room where water freezes, because such a degree of cold causes the negatively poisonous carbonic acid gas of a sleeping-room to settle near the floor, where it is breathed and re-breathed by the sleeper, and is capable of producing typhoid fever in a few hours. Hence, there is no advautage, and always danger, especially to weakly persons, in an atmosphere colder than the freezing point. That it is necessary to the proper an.d efficient venti- lation of a room, even in warm weather, that a window or door should be left open. This is always hazardous to the sick and convalescent. Quite as safe a plan of ventilation, aud as efficieut, is to keep a lamp or small Cre burning in the fireplace. This creates a draft, and carries bad airs and gasses up the chimney. That out-door exercises before breakfast are healthful. It is never so. And, from the very nature of things, it is hurt- ful, especially to persons of poor health, although the very vigorous may practice it with impunity. In winter, the body is easily chilled through and through, unless the stomach has been fortified with a good warm breakfast ; and in warm weather, miasmatic and malarious gases and emanations speedily act upon the empty and weak stomach in a way to vitiate the circulation aud induce fever and ague, diarrhoea and dysentery ; entire families, who have arranged to eat breakfast before leaviug the house, and to take supper before sundown, have had a complete exemption from lever and ague, while the community around them were suffering from it, from having neglected these precautions. That whatever lessens a cough is "good" for it, and, if persevered in, will cure it. On the contrary, all coughs are soonest cured by promoting and increasing them ; because nature endeavors by the cough to help to bring up the phlegm and yellow matter which is in the lungs, and the lungs cannot heal while that matter is there. And, as it cannot be got rid of without coughing, the more coughing there is the sooner it is got rid of — the sooner are the lungs cleaned out for the fuller and freer reception of pure rtlr, which is their natural food. The only remedies which can do any good in coughs are such as loosen the phlegm, aud thus less cough is required to bring it up. Those remedies are warmth, out-door exer- cise, and anything which slightly nauseates. Unlocking the Rocks. — The great cost of silver and gold arises not 80 much from their scarcity in the earth, as the difficulty of extracting thera from their stony combinations. Dr. J. C. Ayer, the well known chemist of Massachusetts, bus cut this gordian knot. After having merited and received the gratitude of half mankind, by bis remedies that cure their diseases, he is now winning the other half, by opening for them an easy road to the exhanstless treasures of the bills. He has discovered and published a chemical process, which renders, at little cost, the hardest rocks and ores friable like chalk, so that the precious metals are loosed from their confinement, and easily gathered. Mines too poor to pay may be worked at a profit, now, and the yield of rich mines is largely increased, while the cost of extracting the metals from the ore is diminished. Either is a great achievement, to enrich mankind, or cure their diseases. But we are informed our celebrated countryman adheres to the latter, us bis spe- ciality and chief ambition. — Bujjiilo Sentinel. Middlktons' National Oil PORTRAITS consist of portraits o Washington, Martha Washington, Lincoln, Clay, Jackson, Webster, Douglas, Grant, and Sherman, imprinted on canvas by the newly in vented process of Mr. E. C. Middleton, of Cincinnati, in such a man ner as to be faithful counterparts of oil paintings. As works of art, they are peculiarly appropriate, as well as patriotic, for parlor orna- ments; and, as portraits, their accuracy and fidelity are attested by- Edward Everett, Senator Richardson, Speaker Colfax, Mrs. Lincoln, Mrs. Daniel Webster, Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas, Mrs. General Grant, Mrs. General Sherman, and scores of others. These portraits are (tu exhibition attbe salesroom of John Middleton & Son of this city. Mr. D. Warren Smith has been appointed special agent, forthe solicitingof subscriptions Nor to bk Destkovko. — Davidson's Circassian Iiloom. is the most inimitable perfume of the day, and is the most delicate and harmless dressing for the complexion and skin. The air and winds do not dry and roughen the skin, when Davidson's Ciccassiau Iiloom is used as uttresBiog, Sold by al\ dnig^te. THE C ALIF0RN1 AN M qy 26th UNCLE IN GOT. TF ever you or yours get five pounds out of me, madam, _L before I die, I promise you, you shall have five thou- sand ; and I am a man of my word." So spoke Mr. Ingot Beardmore, drysaltecand common-councilman of the city of London, to Dorothea Elizabeth, his widowed sister-in-law, who had applied to him for pecuniary succor about three months alter the dea'th of his younger brother Isaac, her husband. There were harshness and stubborn determination euough in Lis reply, but there was no niggard cruelty. Mrs. Isaac wanted money, it is true, but only in the sense in which we all waut it. She was only poor in comparison with the great •wealth of this relative by marriage. Her income was large enough for any ordiuary— Mr. Iugot said " legitimate "—pur- pose, but uot sufficient for seuding her boy to Eton, and finish- ing him off at the universities, as it was the maternal wish to do. Mr. Ingot hated such genteel intentions ; Christ's Hos- pital had been a fashionable enough school for him, and he had " finished off" as a clerk at forty pounds a year in that very respectable house of which he was now the senior part- ner. "With the results of that education, as exemplified in himself, he was perfectly satisfied, and if his nephews only turned out half as well, their mother, he thought, might think herself uncommonly lucky. Her family had given themselves airs upon the occasion of her marrying Isaac — " allying her- self with commerce," some of them called it— and Ingot had never forgiven them, lie gloried in his own profession, although government had never seen fit to ennoble any mem- ber of it, and perhaps all the more upon that account ; for he was one of those radicals who are not " snobs " at heart, but rather aristocrats. He houestly believed that noblemen and gentlemen were the lower orders, and those who toiled and strove, the upper crust of the human pie. When he was told that the former classes often toiled and strove in their own way as much as the others, he made a gesture of contempt, and " blew " like an exasperated whale. It was a vulgar sort of retort, of course, but so eminently expressive, that his op- ponent rarely pursued the subject. He rather liked his sister-in-law, in spite of her good birtlu and would have, doubtless, largely assisted her had she con- sented to briug up her children according to his views ; but since she preferred to take her own way, he withdrew himself more and more from her society, until they saw nothing at all of one another. He had no inteution of leaving his money away from his brother's children ; he had much too strong a sense of duty for that ; aud as for marriage, that was an idea that never entered into his hard old head. He had not made a fool of himself by falling in love in middle age, as Isaac had done (in youth, he had not time for such lollies,) and it was not likely that at sixty-five he should commit any such impru- dence. So his nephews and nieces felt confident of being provided for in the future. In the present, howevor, as time went on, and the education of both girls and boys g ew more expensive, Mrs. Isaac's income became greatly straitened. Her own family very much applauded the expensive way in which she was bringing up her children, and especially her in- dependence of spirit with relation to her tradesman brother- in-law, but they never assisted her with a penny. The young gentleman at Cambridge was therefore kept upon very short allowance ; and the young ladies, whose beauty was something remarkable, affected white muslin, and wore no meretricious jewelry. Their pin-money was very limited, poor things, and they made their own clothes at home by the help of a sewing- machine. If Uncle lngotcould have seen them thus diligently employed, his heart would perhaps have softetud towards them, but, as I have said, they now never got that chance. Julia, the elder, had been but six years old when he had last called at their highly-rented but diminutive habitation in Hay- fair, and now she was eighteen, and had never seen him since. Although she had of course grown out of the old man's recol- lection, she remembered his figure-head, as she wickedly called his rigid features, uncommonly well ; and, indeed, nobody who had ever seen it was likely to forget it. His countenance was not so much human as ligneous ; and his profile Nephew Jack had actually seen upon a certain nobbly tree in the lime walk of Clare Hall at Cambridge — much mote like than any silhou- ette ever cut out of black paper. They had laughed at the old gentleman in early days, and snapped their fingers at his churlishness, but it had become no laughing matter now. That remark of Uncle Ingot's, " if ever you or yours get five pounds out of me, madam, before I die, I promise you. you shall have five thousand ; and I am a man of my word," had become a very serious sentence, condemning all the family to, if not Poverty, at least very urgent Want. What it meant of course was, that he was resolutely determined to give them nothing. In vain the young ladies worked for Uncle Ingot slippers aud book markers for his birthday, and sent to him their best wishes at Christmas in Kimmel's highly scented en- velopes ; in vain Jack sent him a pound of the most excellent snuff that Bacon's emporium could furnish, at the beginning of every term. He always wrote back a civil letter of thanks in a clear and clerkly letter, but there was never any enclosure. When Mrs. Isaac asked him to diuner, he declined iuacaus- tic manner — avowing that he did not feel himself comfortable at the aristocratic tables of the West End— and sent her a pine-apple for the dessert, of his own growing. He had really no ill-feeling towards his relatives, although he kept himself so estranged from them ; but 1 think this sort of couduct tickled the old gentleman's grim sense of humor. If he could have found some legitimate excuse for " making up " with his sis- ter-in-law, within the first year or two of their falling out, per- haps he would have beou glad to do so ; but time had now so widened the breach, that it was not to be easily repaired. What ho had satirically written when he declined her invita- tion had grown to be truo ; he rarely went into society, and almost never into the company of ladies, the elder portion of whom he considered frivolous and vexatious, and the younger positively dangerous. He had a few old-bachelor friends, however, with whom he kept up a cordial intercourse, and spent witli them various festivals of the year as regularly as they came round. On the 31st of December, for instance, he never omitted to go down to Reading, and " see the old year out and the new year in," in the company of Tom Whallles, with whom he had worn the yellow stockings in those school-days that hail passed away more than half a century ago. Tom and Isaac had been even greater cronies as boys than Tom and Ingot, but the latter did not like Tom the less upon that account : secretly, 1 think he esteemed him the more highly as a link between himself and that luckless family whose very exist ence he yet chose to ignore. Mr. Wharlles had intimate rela- tions with them still ; they came down to stay with him whenever his sister paid him a visit, and could act as their hostess ; but this never happened in the last week of the year. Tom was never to speak to them of his old friend — that was not only tacitly understood, but had even been laid down in writing, as the basis of their intimacy. On the 31st of December last, Mr. Ingot Beardmore found himself, as usual, at the Paddington Station, looking for an empty compartment, for his own company had got to be very pleasing to him. Having attained his object, and rolled liim- salf up in the corner of the carriage in several greatcoats, with his feet upon a hot tin, and his hands clothed in thick mittens, and looking altogether like a polar bear who liked to make himself comfortable : when everything was arranged, I say, to the old gentleman's complete satisfaction, who should invade his privacy, just as the train was about to start, and the whistle had sounded, but one of the most bewitching young ladies you ever set eyes on ! '• Madam, this carriage is engaged," growled he, pointing to the umbrella, carpet-bag, and books, which he had distributed upon all the seats, in order to give it that appearance. ■• Only engaged to you, I think, sir," replied the charmer, flippantly. "Happy carriage! I wish / was. Isn't that pretty t" Mr. Beardmore had never had anything half so shocking said to him in all his life, and if the train had not been already set in motion, he would have called upon the iruard for help, and left the carriage forthwith As it was, he could only look at,this shameless young person with an expression of the severest reprobation. At the same time his heart sank within him at the reflection, that the train was not to stop till hi; reached his destination — Heading. What indig- nities might he not have to suffer before he could obtain pro- tection ! Siie was a modest-looking young lady, too, very simply dressed, aud her voice was particularly sweet and pre- possessing, notwithstanding the very dreadful remarks in which she had indulged. Perhaps she was out of her mind — and at this idea Mr. Ingot Beardmore broke out, notwith- standing the low temperature, into a very profuse perspira- tion. •• N ow, what will you give me for a kiss, you — you old polar bear ?" asked the fair stranger playfully, as the train Hew by Baling. '• Nothing, madam, nothing ; I am astonished at you," answered Mr. Beardmore, looking anxiously round the car- riage in the desperate hope of finding one of those newly- patented inventions for affording communication with the guard. " Well, then, I'll take one, and leave it to your honor," continued the young lady with a peal of silver laughter ; and with that she lightly rose, and before the old gentleman could Iree himself from his wraps, or ward her off with his muf- fetees, she had imprinted a kiss upon his horny cheek. Mr. Beard more's breath was so utterly taken away by this asault, that he remained speechless, but his countenance was prob- ably more full of expression than it had ever been in I113 life. " O no, I am not mad," laughed she in reply to it, " although I have taken a fancy to such a wondcrlul old creature. Now come, if I kiss you again, what will you give me ?" " I shall give you in charge to the police, madam, the instant that I arrive at Beading." " Give me in charge ! What for, you curious piece of an- tiquity ?" " For an assault, madam ; yes, for an assault. Don't you know that you have no right to kiss people without their con- sent iu this manner?" She laughed so violently that the tears came into her eyes. "Do you suppose, you poor old doting creature, that any- body will ever believe such a story as that? Do you ever use such a thing as a looking-glass, you poor dear? Are yon aware how very unprepossessing your appearance is, even when you don't frown, as you are doing now, in a manner that is enough to frighten one ? You have, of course, a per- fect right to your own opinion, but if you suppose the police will agree with you, you will find yourself much mistaken. The idea of anybody wanting to kiss you will reasonably enough appear to them preposterous." "What is it you require of me, you wicked creature?" cried the old bachelor, in an agouy of shame and rage. " I want payment for my kiss. To a gentleman at your time of life, who scarcely could expect to be so favored, surely it is worth — what shall I say ? — five pounds. What ! not so much ? Well, then, here's another for your other check." Like a flash of lightning, she suited the action to her words. " There, then, five pounds for the two, and I won't take a shilling less. You will have to give it to the poor's box at the police station, if not to me. For I intend, iu case you are obstinate, to complain of your disgraceful conduct to tho guard, at the first opportunity. I shall give you into custody, sir, as sure as you are alive. You will be put upon your oath, you know, aud all you will dare to say will be that / kissed you, and not you me. What ' roars of laughter ' there will be in court, and how funny it will all look in the papers!" Here the young lady began to laugh again, as though she had already read it there. Mr. Beardmore's grim sense of humor was, as usual, accompanied by a keen dislike of appearing ridiculous. True, he hated to be imposed upon ; still, of the two evils, was it not better to pay five pounds than to bo made the laughing-stock of his bachelor friends, who ure not the sort of people to commiserate one iu a misfortune of this kind ? In short, Mr. Ingot Beardmore paid the money. Mr. Thomas W baffles found his guest that evening anything but talkative. There was a select parly of the male sex invited to meet him, by whom the rich old drysalter was accustomed to be regarded as an oracle ; but upon this occasion he had nothing to say ; the consciousness of having been " done " oppressed him. His lips were tightly sealed ; his cheeks were still glowing from the audacious insult that had been put upon them ; his fingers clutched the pocket-book in which there was a five-pound note less than there ought to be. But when his host and himself were left alone that night, " seeing the old year out, and the new year in," his heart began to thaw under the genial influences of friendship and gin punch, and he told his late adventure to Tom WhafhVs, not without some enjoyment of his own mischance. " I could really almost forgive the jade," said he," for hav- ing taken me in so cleverly. I daresay, however, she makes quite a profession of it ; and that half a score of old gentle- men have been coerced before now into ransoming their good name as I did. And yet she was as modest and lady like looking a girl as ever you saw." " Was she anything like ihis?'' inquired Mr. WhafHes, pro- ducing a photograph. '• Why, that's the very girl !" exclaimed the guest. " Ha ! ha ! Tom ; so you, too, have been one of her victims, have you? Well, now, this is most extraordinary." " Not at all, my dear fellow. I know her very well ; and her sister, and her mother, and her brother too. I can intro- duce you to her if you like. There's not the least harm in her : bless you, she only kissed you for a bit of fun." " A bit of fun !" cried Mr. Beardmore. " Why, she got a five-pound note out of me !" " But she does not mean to keep it, I am very sure. Would you like to see her again ? Come, ' Yes ' or ' No ?' " " II she will give me back my money. ' Yes.' " " Very well," returned the host; " mind, you asked for her yourself ;" and he rang the bell pretty sharply twice. •' Here she is : it'syour niece, Miss Julia. Her mother and sister are now staying under this very roof." " Yes, uncle," said the young lady demurely. " Here is your five-pound note : please to give me that five thousand which vou promised mamma if ever she. or hers got five pounds out of you ; for you area man if your iron/, 1 know. Hut what would be better still would be. to let me kiss you one e more, in the character of your dutiful niece ; and let us all love you as we want ti do. It wa3 an audacious stratagem, I admit, but I think you will foririve me — come." " There go the church-bells !" cried Tom Whafh>s. " It is the new year, mid a fitting time to forget old enmities. Give your uncle a kiss, child." Uncle Ingot made no resistance this time, but avowed him- self fairly conquered : and between ourselves, although he made no " favorites " among his newly-reconciled relatives > but treated them with equal kindness. 1 think he always liked Niece Julia best, who had been the cause of healing n quarrel which no one perhaps had regretted more at heart than Undo Ingot himself. Tub highest inhabited place on the globe is the post-house of Aucumaico, iu Peru, nearly 1G,00U feet above the tea. May 26th j T H JW CALIF ORNlAN. 7 THE FIELD OF FAIR OAKS. [George Alfred Townsend, in Tile Campaigns of a ■Non-Corn- batant, gives Hie following vivid description of the field of Fair Oaks after the battle. The incidents mainly relate to that portion occupied by Meagher's Irish Brigade :J A YOUNG staff officer took me over the field. We vis- ited first the cottage and bams across the road, and found the house occupied by some thirty wounded Federals They lay in their blankets upon the floors— pale, helpless, hol- low-eyed, making low moans at every breath. Two or three were feverishly sleeping, and, as the flies revelled upon their gashes, they stirred uneasdy and moved their hands to and fro. By the flatness of the covering at the extremities, I could see that several had only stumps of legs. They had lost the sweet enjoyment of walking afield, and were but frag- ments of men, to limp forever through a painful life. Such wrecks of power I never beheld. Broad, brawny, buoyant, a few hours ago, the loss of blood, and the nervous shock, attend, ant upon amputation, had well nigh drained them to the last drop. Their faces were as white as the tidy ceiling ; they were whining like babies ; and only their rolling eyes distin- guished them from mutilated corpses. Some seemed quite broken in spirit, and one, who could speak, observing my piti- ful glances toward his severed thigh, drew up his mouth aud chin, and wept as if with the loss of comeliness all his Ambi- tions were frustrated. A few attendants were brushing off the insects with boughs of cedar, laving the sores, or adminis- tering cooling draughts. The second story of the dwelling was likewise occupied by wounded, but in a corner clustered the terrified farmer and his family, vainly attempting to turn their eyes from the horrible spectacle. The farmer's wife had a baby at her breast, and its little blue eyes were straying over the room, half wonderingly, half delightedly. I thought, with a shudder, of babyhood thus surrounded, and how, in the long future, its first recollections of existence should be of boom- ing guns and dying soldiers I The cow-shed contained seven corpses, scarcely yet cold, lying upon their backs, in a row, aud fast losing all resemblance to man. The farthest removed, seemed to be a diminutive boy, and I thought if he had a mother, that she might some time like to speak with me. When I took their names, I thought what terrible agencies I was fulfilling. Beyond my record, falsely spelled, perhaps, they would have no history. And people call such deaths glorious ! Upon a pile of lumber and some heaps of fence rails, close by, sat some dozens of wounded men, mainly Federals, with bandaged arms and faces, and torn clothing. There was one, shot in the foot, who howled at every effort to remove his boot ; the blood leaked from a rent in the side, and at last, the leather was cut, piecemeal from the flesh. These ate vo- raciously, though in pain and fear ; for a little soup and meat were being doled out to them. The most horrible of all these scenes— which I have de- scribed perhaps too circumstantially — was ptesented in the stable or barn, on the premises, where a bare, dingy floor — the planks of which tilted and shook, as one made his way over them — was strewn with suffering people. Just at the entrance sat a boy, totally blind, both eyes having beeu torn out by a minuie-ball, and the entire bridge of the nose shot away. He crouched against the gable, in darkness and agony, tremulously fingering his knees. Near at hand, sat another, who had been shot through the middle of the forehead, but singular to relate, he still lived, though luuatic, and evidently beyond hope. Death had drawn blue aud yellow circles be- neath his eyes, and he muttered incomprehensibly, wagging, his head. Two men, perfectly naked, lay iu the middle of the place; wounded in bowels and loins ; and at a niche in the weather-boarding, where some pale light peeped in, four muti- lated wretches were gaming with curds. I was now led a lit- tle way down the railroad, to see the Confederates. Theraiu began to lull at this time, aud the poor fellows shut their eyes to avoid the pelting of the drops. There was no shelter for them within a mile, and the mud absolutely reached half way up their bodies. Nearly one third had suffered amputation above the knee. There were about thirty at this spot, and 1 was told that they were being taken to Meadow Station on hand cars. As soon as the locomotive could pass the Chicku- hominy, they would be removed to White House, and com- fortably quartered in the Sanitary and hospital boats. Some of them were fine, athletic, and youthful, and I was directed to one who had been married only three days before. " Doctor," said one, feebly, " 1 feel very cold : do you think that this is death ? It seems to be creaping to my heart. I have no feeling in my feet, and my thighs are numb." A Federal soldier came along with a bucket of soup, and proceeded to fill the canteens and plates. He appeared to be a relative of Mark Tapley, and possessed much of that estimable person's jollity — "Come, pardner," he said, " drink yer sup 1 now, old bey, this'U warm ye ; sock it down and you'll see yer sweetheart soon. You dead, Ally burn my ? Go way, now. \ou ll live a hundred years, you will. That's wot you'll do. Won't he, lad? What? Not any? Get out ! You'll be slap on your legs next week and hev another shot at me the week a'ter that. You know you will I Oh, you Rebil I You, with the butternut trousers 1 Say 1 Wake up aud take some o' this. Hello 1 lad, pardner. Wake up 1" He stirred him gently with his foot ; he bent down to touch his face. A grimness came over his merriment. The man was stiff and dumb. Col. Baker, commanding the 88th New York, was a tall, martial Irishman, who opened his heart and bottle at the same welcome, and took me into the woods, where some of the slain still remained. He had slept not longer than an hour, continuously, for seventy hours, and during the past night had been called up by eight alarms. His men lay in the dark thickets, without fires or blankets, as they had srossed the Chickahominy in light marching order. ' Many a lad," said he, " will escape the bullet for a linger- ing consumption." We had proceeded but a very little way, when we came to a trodden place beneath the pbes, where a scalp lay in the leaves, and the imprint of a body was plainly visible. The bayonet scabbard lay at one side, the canteen at the other. We saw no corpses, however, as fatigue parties had been burying the slain, and the whole wood was dotted with heaps of clay, where the dead slept below in the oozy trenches. Quantities of cartridge were scattered here and there, dropped by the retreating Confederates. Some of ' the cartridge- pouches that I examined were completely filled, showing that their possessors .had not fired a single round ; others had but onx3 cartridge missing. There were fragments of clothing, hair, blankets, murderous bowie and dirk knives, spurs, flasks, caps, and plumes, dropped all the way through the thicket, and the trees on every hand were riddled with balls. 1 came upon a squirrel, unwittingly shot during the fight. Not those alone who make the war must feel the war ! At one of the mounds the burying party had just completed their work, and the men were throwing the last clods upon the remains. They had dug pits of not more than two feet depth, and dragged the bodies heedlessly to the edges, whence they were toppled down and scantily covered. Much of the interring had been done by night, and the flare of lanterns upou the discolored faces and dead eyes must have been hideously effective. The grave-diggers, however, were practical person- ages, and had probably little care for dramatic effects. They leaned upon their spades, when the rites were finished, and a large, dry person, who appeared to be privileged upon all occasions, said, grinoingly : " Colonel, your honor, them boys 'ill niver stand forninst the Irish brigade again. If they'd ha' known it was us, sue, begorrah ! they'd ha' brought coffins wid 'em." " No, niver !" " They got their ticket for soup !'' " We kivered them, fait', will iuough!" shouted the other grave- diggers. " Do ye belave, Colonel," said the dry person again, " that thim ribals '11 lave us a chance to catch them. Be me sowl ! I'm jist wishin' to war-rum me hands wid rifle practice." The others echoed loudly that they were anxious to be ordered up, and some said that " Little Mac 11 give 'cm his big whack now." The presence of death seemed to have added no fear of death to these people. Haviug tasted blood, they now thirsted for it, and I asked myself, forebodingly, if a return to civil life would find them less ferocious. An exchange gives the following gossip concerning Victor Hugo : " He rises, winter and summer, with the sun. He lights his fire and makes his coffee ; then he writes, reads, or composes until eleven, and during that time no one troubles him in his meditations. ' At eleven, whatever the temperature may be, he goes out on the terrace of the house, which is on the same level as his room, and makes long ablutions with cold water. Then conies the breakfast hour, devoted to fam- ily chat and the reading of newspapers and letters. This meal generally lasts for an hour aud a half. Then the poet takes long walks across the island. He works while walkiug, and often stops before the points he specially admires. He is not much given to eating. Hi3 table is simply set, and he is always satisfied with the dishes set before him. Although he has a good appetite, he is moderate, and no one can say that he has seen him commit the least excess. Victor Hugo goes to bed early, generally before teu o'clock. Pens, ink, and paper are placed on a table nigh him. Often in his broken sleep he jots down the thoughts that cross his mind. ' Some- times he writes in the dark aud makes hieroglyphics that in the morning he alone can decipher." Mr. Collier's latest illustration of old English literature is a reprint of the famous pamphlet on " The Life and Death of Gamaliel Ratney, a famous Tliief of Englarld, executed at Bedford, the 2Uth of March last past, 1G05." It is a very curious piece, and is important lor its reference to Shakspeare coining to London as a poor lad, aud afterwards owning a lord- ship iu the country. The trials of life are the tests which ascertain how much gold there is in us. THE THIEVES OF BENGAL. IN the cool of the evening, your budgerow being safely moored by means of ropes fastened to stout stakes driven into the bank, and you being seated on the roof oT the boat dreamily gazing on the expanse of river before you, broken as it is, here and there, by the long, low sand-banks which the waters have thrown up in their impetuous flow— you happen, in a listless sort of a way, to observe an earthen pitcher float- ing bottom upwards, and slowly approaching your boat. You forget, a moment after, that you have seen it ; floating ghur- rahs (as these pitchers are called) in a river into which hun- dreds are thrown in company with the bodies of their dead owners, are a by no means uncommon sight. Soon after, however, as the darkness begins to come on, you make the disagreeable discovery that your boat is filling with water. It sinks and makes a cosey bed for itself in the soft mud, before you can do anything to save it. You wade to shore, and make the best of your way to the nearest thannah (police station) for assistance. The thannah is miles away inland ; and by the time you get back, you find that the people of a neighboring village have helped themselves to your property, and escaped. It does not occur to you to connect the sink- ing of the budgerow with the harmless gurrah that came float- ing down the stream in its purposeless course, and bumped accidentally against the side of your boat ; and yet the two things stand very much in the relation of cause and effect. That ghurrah is not an empty one, nor was it accident that brought it in contact with the boat. In it was a human head, to which was attached a living body ; and this body, which you did not see because it was under water, directed the course of the ghurrah. The villain, who thus got to the side of your boat unsuspected, bored a hole or. two into it before the ghurrah floated off again. He was in league with a band of dacoits who watched aud waited for the denouement from a distance, and then came down like vultures upon their prey. I am not aware that the dacoits of the Soonderbuns have practiced the ghurrah stratagem, but they have done things quite as clever. I have known them, for example, to take away not only the blanket under which one had been sleep- ing, but the very sheet on which he had been lying asleep, and that without waking him. A gentleman was once travelling tbrourh the Soonderbuus in " a native boat," that is to say, a boat surmounted by a mat-constructed cabin. It was Decem- ber, and as the cold north wind came oozing in through the matting, he drew his blanket over him on getting into bed. He awoke earlier than usual the next morning, feeling very cold, and wondering at the large amount of morning light that pervaded his cabin. To his dismay, he found not only that he was blanketle3s, but that >., hole two feet square had been cut in the matting. While pondering these things, he made the further discovery that the sheet on which he had laid was no lodger on the bed. The inference was clear that he had had a nocturnal visitor. He had heard stories of the sheet-lifting before ; but not till now, that he had himself been successfully practiced upon, did he believe that the feat could be accomplished. The scoundrel who covets the sheet under you, approaches your bedside armed with a feather, with which he gently tickles your ear. Accustomed as you are to the buzz of mosquitoes, which, by the way, have a notable penchant for sini'mg in one's ears, you only fidget a little in your sleep, and, turning on your side, press the ear that had beeu operated on. on the pillow. Immediately one half of the sheet thus released is rolled up lengthwise close under your back. The feather is again cautiously applied to the exposed ear ; you turn once more, and the other half of the sheet is released. One more tickle adroitly administered disengages the sheet altogether, and the rascal no doubt inwardly chuckles as he leaves you to your slumber. But it is only the men who do business on their own account, and who go out alone, that care to observe caution in their proceedings. Every villager in these watery districts owns a canoe or dinghy for going to market, in, so that ha needs no further stock in-trade when he takes to the thieving line. His dinghy, generally about seven feet long, is propelled by a single pole, feathered at both ends. Standing upright in his boat, and grasping the pole in the middle with both hands, he manages, by an easy action of the wrists, to dip the ends alternately into the water on either side, and so to shoot along with wonderful rapidity. Being alone, ho is timid, and will try to escape the moment he is likely to be discovered. But professional dacoits go about in large parties, and, till recently, were very bold. Their canoes are from thirty to forty feet long, and are propelled with marvellous swiftness, by a double line of paddles, which are preferred to regular oars because they do not rest on the side of the boat, and may be worked noiselessly. The paddle is worked with both hands. Held out over the side, and dipped perpendicularly into the water, with the blade at right angles to the boat, it pushes back tha water very effectively, and a canoe rowed by twenty five or thirty men, each with a paddle, secures it a speed which makes capture hopeless. It is rumored that Honor May, the musical novel, recently published by Ticknor & Fields, was written by Miss Bartol, daughter ol Rev. Dr. C. A. Bartol, the well-knowu Unitarian clergyman of Boston. s THE CALIFORNIA!*. [ May 2t'1h NO TIC E. The publication of " The Cahkornian lakes place on Saturday mornings, and copies may be obtained in the City at all Sews sland$,~and of our News-agents through the country. 11 will also be served b% carriers on the morning of publication. White &. Bauer, News Dealers, No. 413 Washington street, are General Agents for The California's in the interior counties oj this State , also, for the adjacent States and Territories. letters relating to the Business, Editorial or other Depart- ments of the paper should be addressed to the Publishers of The ai.ifornian, No. 532 Merchant street, San Francisco. THE CALIFORNIAN. SAN FRANCISCO. SATURDAY. MAT 26. 1866. Full volumes of The Californian, from the commencement, can be obtained at the office, 532 Merchant street. Price, in muslin, $1 Tier volume; two volumes (one year) bound together, $6. Unbound, per volume, $2 50. OLM STEAD'S REPORT IN REGARD TO A PLAN OF PUBLIC PLEASURE GROUNDS. PROFESSOR Olmstkad's report on the subject of a public park, submitted some weeks since to the Board of Supervisors, does uot seem to stir the slightest interest with the community at large. The Bulletin published the document in full, and thus introduced the plan and its details to the public ; yet it seems as if no interest is felt in the matter. If the plan in question is impracticable, then let us ask for others ; it is our duty to take preliminary steps now, for, in a few years more, the task will uot only be more difficult, but an hundred times more expensive. The report itself discusses the whole question in the fullest manner, and is conclusive in its logic of the necessity of a park, and the importance of a selection of the ground without unnecessary delay. "We assume it is conceded that, not only is a park indispensable in a sanitary point of view, but that it is a measure most important in its relation "to the stability and prosperity of our city. We know no other plan that so closely touches the future ot San Francisco — the Pacific rail- road alone excepted. Why, then, there should be so much general and individual apathy on the subject is beyond our comprehension. At present land is cheap, aud a tax for the purchase of enough for a large and extensive park — its area to be deter- mined by the future requirements of the city — would be accepted, we think, with pleasure. The laying out, the em- bellishment, etc., could be provided for by a small annual appropriation — thus making the expense a cheerful burden. For present use— as a place for pic-nics, parades, drives, and of general resort — a large expenditure would not be required, the purchase excepted. We believe that the plan of finding a park in the municipal domain is absurd aud chimerical. 11 people anticipate that enough land will be saved for parks from the property outside of Alcalde giants, claimed as the fee of this corporation, then they will be wofully disappointed. We will be surprised if the city ever gains sufficient of the Pueblo grant to construct a ring lor the Cosmopolitan Circus. Certain papers may attempt to demonstrate such a plan feasible ; but, if a:iy thinking and experienced head can be found to agree with such papers, and can show where the land is to be seen, and how, when seen, a title to it in the city can be had short of purchase, then we will gladly confess our- selves mistaken. Most of the lands included in Olmstead's piau lie within the Van Ness ordinance, uuder which the city's claim, if she ever had any, has long since been extin- guished by a solemn act of quit-claim, approved and ratified by Legislative and Congressional action, and judicial decision. Therefore, the proposition to take outside lands for park pur- poses is made m ignorance of the legal status of such lands, and is as frivolous as it is impossible of attainment. Spolia- tion by this corporation is out of the question — we can have parks by purchase or gift, but in no other way. We are disposed to think the Olmstead plan imperfect and made up without sufficient study and knowledge of the topo- graphy of our county. It is true Mr. Olmstead did person- ally visit and inspect those portions embraced in his report, but he didn't do it with special reference to the probability of a park being determined on in his generation, aud that its project and execution would be confided to him. His plan, as submitted to the Board of Supervisors, is drawn from mem- ory, and from maps and photographs sent him since he left. Looking to tho essentials he names : that there should be shel- ter from the west wind ; that no ground shall be selected which is already of great value ; that it should extend in the direction in which the city is likely to advance ; and that " it will be much more economical to adopt a plan which compre- hends everything that is likely to be wanted at the outset;" looking, then, to these things, we think his plan falls short of the conditions he names. The broad avenue in his plan SfHM over a valuable part of the city, and includes lots which can not be purchased at rates varying lroin 000 to $10,000 per acre. Any commission of appraisement must look to the market value of the lands in question; must compote the damages owners "may sustain by being deprived thereof;" it caunot arbitrarily dispossess and compel the acceptance of an half or a quarter of what the property may be worth ; it must make " such compensation thereror as may be deemed reasonable ;'' and the rule of value must be from evidence — not the arbitrary judgment or prejudice of such a coThmission. Under this view of the case, the purchase of the realty se- lected by Mr. Olmstead will reach an amount that will frighten tax payers. Besides, those portions he prefers are not the most picturesque aud sheltered : on the contrary, they are physically inappropriate, and not susceptible of easy adapta- tion as features of a park that is constructed on the plan of beauty, convenience, and pleasure. Looking to the fact that our city is •• worthy to be, and destined to be, one of the largest, if not the largest city in the world," and that, in the selection of a park, railroad facilities render distance a matter of no consideration, it seems to us that making Lake Merced the initial point and then running to the bay, so as to include portions of the San Miguel, Bernal, and La Vicitacion Ran- ches, all the conditions of Mr. Olmstead would be met. There we have a country with a rich soil, diversified by hill and val- ley ; sheltered from the sea winds more than any other por- tions of the county are ; a beautiful lake prepared to baud, both termini of the park at the water, in the one case a splen- did sea-beach ride aud view ; holding little sheltered valleys : and the bed of a creek — or arroyo — running " from southwest to northeast " entirely protected from the wind, and the char- acter of the soil of which can be seen from the gardens which green its slopes. The Baa Jose railroad bridge spans one such ravine which, with its bluff granite sides aud depth of bottom, far exceeds in picturesque and natural beauty, anything iu Central Park. Besides, these lauds can be purchased at a price less than one tenth of those selected by Olmstead. These remarks are intended to excite discussion and sug- gestions, as well as to keep before the public the importance of some early action iu the matter of a park. INIGOINGS. Steamer " Sacramento," Panama Harbor. ) April 30, 18CG — 4 o'clock a. m. J HERE we are in Panama harbor — four o'clock in the morning, and catamarans and such things lying all around us. The Sacramento, you see, is a heavy vessel, and the sur- rounding ones are lighters! fla ! ha ! how is that for a joke? — not a breath of air stir- ring, and the thermometer standing at 210 degrees in the shade. Oh, such a sleepy-looking crowd. At one, or thereabouts, the goug rang, and all hands were called to breakfast. Not hungry, but never disposed to shirk a duty, 1 turned out and took a sea,t at table. In the abstraction and sleepiness con- sequent upon this most unusual business hour, I stuck my fork in my ear, and nearly chopped my neighbor's fingers off in attempting to carve a contiguous steak — but such is lite. Many a better man, probably, has suffered at the stake. If that's a bad joke, put it dowu to the weather and the hour — the latter an unusually early one for a bird so little desirous to catch worms, that since the invention of Trichina he has wholly abstaiued from Pork. Verily, in the matter of this premature and ill-considered breakfasting, the enemy is Hours— Early Hours. Why could they not have suffered one to sleep a little while longer ? Fur it is reported now that we cannot get ashore before this after- noon. The opening couplet of Lockshy Hall came into my mind when that infernal gong rang : Comrades, leave me here a little, while ns yet 'tis early morn,- Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon your bngle horn. Who had not rather be wakened by a bugle horn, a horn of whiskey, Kate Horn, the horn of a wild bull, or in fact any other horn in creation, than by the crash of a gong? The sound is agreeable enough when one is hungry, and is called to dinner thereby ; but to be awakened — Lord ! — fire off a small howitzer in my ear ; explode a package of nitro- glycerine in my trouser's pocket, or do anything else calcu- lated to jar upon one's nerves, iu preference. For wheu the first rattle and crash comes, the impression is that the train of thought which one pursues eveu iu dreams has run off the track, and that there is a wreck of worlds and disaster of ideas. On every side of me people are grumbling : " Why did they call us so early ?" Bah ! It is the very vice of nature to bo discontented. I do believe that some people — persons would be mor; correct, perhaps — would grumble were they going to be hanged. Various employments are indulged in by these involuntary flaneurs pour passer le temps. The most sensible method that I know of, is the one adopted by a fellow out on the guard', immediately opposite to where 1 am writing. He has his arms around a girl's waist, and seems to be telling her that old, old story, which Adam told to Eve in the Garden of Eden — and which all women since are fools enough to believe. But I — behold mc : Alone, unguarded for I am titling, not on the guard but in the main saloon, whore it is hot enough to roast a turkey, let alone a Turk— and haviug No one to love and none to caress, what can I do ? Do ? First love of my heart, ignis fatuus — though never did you fat your proprietors much — of my soul, Delilah of my affections, and Dead Sea apple of my hopes : what better can I do thau sit down and write you a letter, chronicling what has happened during the voyage ; holding converse with you from this corner of the continent, precisely as I was wont to when seated iu that literally literary— inasmuch as always littered— sanctum, which I always entered with distaste and left with regret. What impressions de voyage has one to relate when trav- elling over a route so often journeyed that the cleaving keels of vessel have left an actually traceable path in the waters? Impressions, indeed ! They may all be summed up in one word : Hot! Oh, ye voyagers hilherward ! bring no weighty clothes with you. Discard all old notions about flannel suits, and come clad in gauze— light as a grasshopper's wing and airy as a young girl s first dreams of love. And, above all, bring no extra baggage with you. For the inexorable Fuller stands at the head of the scales, and the immutable Dick Bevil, pencil in hand, sits at the f'o»t ; and, between the two, the Lord help you. That they are honest, my lord, I will not deny * but that they know how to chalk things down, who shall dispute ? Had I a ranch, a grass ranch, how I would like to employ the two gentlemen above named — the one to weigh my hay, the other to charge and collect for it. My baggage weighed heavy— half a ton. 1 was at a loss to account for the weight, till I recollected I had a five-act play, translated and adapted from the German ofLessing by myself and my calm-eyed, smooth-tempered friend, Dr. Hermann Muller. And the heat of that baggage-room. ". Think of your lat- ter end," was the parting injunction of a pious friend— and I did think of it, as I went bumping down stairs, landing iu a lower deck dormitory, to the heat of which the left wing of Tophet is cool in comparison. Toiling, sweating, and occa- sionally swearing, by way of assuaging the general friction, were a crowd of promiscuous passengers and porters— it was a struggle to be first, and the first was generally last. Never before did I comprehend what it was to Suffer and be strong, for, indeed, I suffered ; and that those in the neighborhood were strong, a breeze, not from Araby the Blest, abundantly testified. But why dwell on the subject, when I left the object as soon as possible? And there sat Bevel and Fuller, chalking dowu the weight — in baggage-rooms, people perforce learn to labor aud to wait — cool as cucumbers, and never missiug au ounce. They were talking of fast freight among themselves, in mysterious whispers. 1 know a few young ladies iu the ship who might, I think, have been ticketed through at their re- spective avoirdupois weights as '-fast freight," with perfect propriety. But, what about our voyage ? On Friday morning, between eleven aud twelve, Frank Winchester, a cabin passenger, aged about twenty. five years, died. At sunset, his body was committed "to the deep" — an euphemism for the sharks— with all the impressiveuess which an ill-read burial service could give. At the critical moment the engines were stopped — splash ! went the corpse from the hurricane deck above, over the taffrail, and all was over. Singularly enough, hardly had the body sank from sight, when a strange, solitary bird suddenly appeared, hovering over the spot, and following the ship until its pinions were shadowed by the rapidly falling night. The sailors swore it was the spirit of the man whose body bad been giveu to the whelming waters. Saturday morning, another man died — a steerage passenger, named Kellim. Such au emaciated being 1 never before saw. Strolling forward the other day, I saw him sitting up in his cot, while his fellows around were eating. Aud 1 thought of the old Egyptian custom of introducing a okeletou at the feast, gaunt and grim, to remind the guests of the grave des- serts to follow, when the regular courses of life were done. It is due that I say that everything possible was done by officers and passengers to contribute to the comfort of these poor fellows, whose names are transferred from our passenger list to the longer list of those bouud for a port whence no returu tickets are issued. Both these men died of consumption. It is curious to nib why men in the last stages of au incurable disease, should embark upon a long seu-vojage, which at the best can but hasten demise. The same amount of money, it would seein to the practical mind, might be much better spent in procur- ing comforts on shore — where a headstone might at least bo had. They laugh at me for objecting to a sea burial, and express- ing a preference for a last resting-place under the yews of the village churchyard, the green grasses growing over me, and May 26th] THE CALIFORNIA^. 9 the flowers, which a few loving- hands might plant, blossoming | out from my dust. Be it so. I hold to the preference still. | Let those who like go drifting about the trackless ocean, in | •wild unrest, until the Archangel shall his trumpet sound— their last moments unsoothed by the kind ministrations of affection. As for me, let me die, when die I must, something after the manner of "- Ciraille," in the fifth act— to the sound of slow music, my head pillowed on a loving breast. And I think I'd haunt the ship whose captain refused to pack me in ice or preserve me in whiskey till a port was reached. Sunday we had service. As on the previous occasion, it was read by a D. D., " spelled " by an M. D. — and if honors were easy, the latter at least had the advantage of the odd trick. For my good friend the doctor, this time, improved on his former reading. He then only asked that we were to be forgiven for the sius we had done, and the sins we had not done— now he supplicated that we be forgiven for the sins we intended to do. Can you imagine a more sweeping prayer ? Perhaps you'd like to have me write more ? And perhaps you think 1 couldu't write more if I wanted to 1 Oh, foreman ! and oh, faithful, but talkative " Bob 1" can not each and all of you testify that I, weighed in the balance, was never yet found wanting? Have I not written against both time aud space — to the utter annihilation of both ? And have I ever fallen a line short, however much I may have overrun ? Tell me, ye winged winds and things ! Just at present, having reached the twelfth slip, with a dull pencil and no knife to sharpen it with ; with two ladies on cither side, urging me to make haste and " finish," to go shopping with them — How happy I cniilil be with ether, Were t'other anaesthetic awny — with the clanging of a pump in one ear, and the deafening squall of a baby in the other, I close this communication, written under difficulties, trusting to the good offices of the proof reader to avert any " typographical error " or grammat- cal lapse by which the Dramatic Chronicle can crucify me. Inigo. A M U S E M K N T S . ry^HK character of "Lear," the greatest of Shakspeare's I creations, has been the test part and the study of the most gifted actors for generations ; and we doubt if any have mastered it to their satisfaction. It stands, as it were, an imperishable gauntlet thrown out by the greatest creative mind of the stage, challenging all future intellects to its adequate conception and impersonation. That Mr. Forrest, in the character, on Monday and Tuesday evenings, filled the Opera House with an audience that tested its capacity, is not sur- prising ; and that he should partially fail in satisfying the too sanguine expectations of those who saw him in " Richelieu " and " Virginius," is scarcely less so. We do not propose at this interval of time to go into an extended criticism of Mr, Forrest's impersonation of the character. It is sufficient to say that it possessed all the merits of his impersonation of " Richelieu " — great power and vigor of action in the rhetori- cal and impassioned parts — but was marked by the usual inefficiency iu depicting the mental strife, the phrenzied pathos and maiesty, the great grief and agony, of the grand old king, which no delineator has ever truly represented. That this is so, doe3 not detract from the fame of Mr. Forrest, for his impersonation of the character is as masterly a piece of acting as the stage of the present day can present. The gentle " Elia," one of the most competent of English critics, says : " The ' Lear ' of Shakspeare cannot be acted ;" and adds that the stage machinery with which the storm is mimicked " is not more inadequate to represent the real power of the elements, than any actor cau be to represent the greatness of ' Lear.' " The " supports " were excellent. Mr. McCullough's " Ed- gar " was the best performance he has yet given U3. His rendering of " Mad Tom " was exceedingly good. Miss Lillie's " Cordelia " was very effective. Mr. Thorne, as " Edmund ;" Mr. Lcman, as " Kent j" Mr. Coad, as "Oswald ;" and Mrs. Sophie Edwin and Mrs. Jackson, as the two unnatural daugh- ters, gave able characterizations of their parts. " The " Othello " of Mr. Forrest, on Wednesday evening, was received by an audience of no less magnitude than that which attended his performance of " Lear." The springs of action in " Otliello " — love, jealousy, and revenge — are more fathomable qualities than the weird fancies of the diseased mind of " Lear," and are more capable of embodiment. The . honest, coufident Moor, infuriated with jealousy, torn with doubts, struggling iu his noble nature against his convictions — loving, yet filled with the fire of vengeful passions— found a most truthful representative in Mr. Forrest. The character becomes most passionately demonstrative as the plot develops, and admits of a wide latitude for the display of passionate power. It is one of the characters peculiarly fitted to the genius cf Mr, Forrest, and was portrayed with that masterly effect for which he is famed. The <• Iago " of Mr. McCullough was not so happy a per- sonation as his " Edgar." It is not every actor that cau look aud act the " villain Iago." Mis3 Lillie, as " Desdemoua," lacked somewhat in the tragic requirements of the part. Mrs. Jackson's " Emilia "• was excellent, and won most merited recognition from the audience. Thome's- rendering of " Michael Cassio " placed another point to his credit. Frank's " Roderigo " was also very good. The play was repeated last eveniug, and was witnessed by a full theatre with no less in- terest than on its first production. The " Damon " of Mr. Forrest, on Thursday night, drew an actually overflowing audience and the sale of tickets had to be stopped in consequence. Mr. Forrest was fully master of the character, and invested many of the scenes with great impressiveness. He was ably supported by the " Pythias " of Mr. McCullough and the " Hermion " of Mrs. Sophie Edwin. This afternoon and evening, The Bead Heart is an- nounced as the attraction. Wouldn't a live one draw better ? The programme of the coming week's performances is : on Monday, Virginius; Tuesday, Richelieu ; Wednesday, Damon and Pythias; Thursday, Lear; and on Friday, Macbeth. Seats can be secured five days in advance. "MARK TWAIN" ON HIS TRAVELS. MOUNTED on my noble steed Hawaii (pronounced Efah- wy-ye — stress on second syllable,) a beast that cost thirteen dollars and is able to go his mile in throe — with a bit of margin to it — I departed last Saturday week for — for any place that might turn up. SATURDAY IN HONOLULU. Passing through the market place, we saw that feature of Honolulu under its most favorable auspices— that is, in the full glory of Saturday afternoon, which is a festive day with the natives. The native girls by twos and threes and parties of a dozen, and sometimes in whole platoons and companies, went cantering up and down the neighboring streets astride of fleet but homely horses, and with their gaudy riding habits streaming like banners behind them. Such a troop of free and easy riders, in their natural home, which is the saddle, makes a gay aud graceful and exhilarating spectacle. The riding habit I speak of is simply a long, broad scarf, like a tavern table-cloth brilliantly colored, wrapped around the loins once, then apparently passed up between the limbs and each end thrown backward over the same, and floating and Happing behind on both sides beyoud the horse's tail like a couple of fancy flags ; and then, with a girl that throws her chest forward and sits up like a Major General aud goes sweeping by like the wind : *■ Gay ?" says Brown, with a fine irony ; " oh, you can't mean it !" The girls put on all the finery they can scare up on Satur- day afternoon : fine black silk robes ; flowing red ones that nearly put your eyes out ; others as white as snow ; still others that discount the rainbow : and they wear their hair in nets, and trim their jaunty hats with fresh flowers, and en- circle their dusky throats with home-made necklaces of the brilliant vermillion-tinted blossom of the ohia ; and they till the markets and the adjacent streets with their bright pres- ence, and smell like thuuder with their villainous cocoanut '^r\t\isA'xl\\\^ ' t \ Tjr 1 rp * Occasionally you see a heathen from the sunny isles away down in the South Seas, with his face and neck tatooed till he looks like the customary unlortunate from Reese River who has been blown up in a mine. Some are tattooed a dead blue color down to the upper lip — masked, as it were — leav- ing the natural light yellow skin of Micronesia unstained from thence down ; some with broad marks drawn down from hair to neck, on both sides of the face, and a strip of the original yellow skiu, two inches wide, down the center — a gridiron with a spoke broken out ; and some with tbe entire face discolored with the popular mortification tint, relieved only by one or two thin, wavy threads of natural yellow' run- ning across the face from ear to ear, and eyes twinkling out of this darkness, from uuder shadowing hat-brims, like stars in the dark of the moon. *m'*t*> •'*"» '••»'-*;i>V"f "IVifc #> "'.'J**4'' *•*» THE GOVERNMENT I'RISOX. Cantering across the bridge and down the firm, level, and gleaming white coral turnpike that leads toward the south, or the east, or the west, or the north (the points of the compass being all the same to me, inasmuch as, for good reasons, I have not had an opportunity thus far of discovering whereabouts the suu rises iu this country — I know where it sets, but I don't know how ft gets there nor which direction it comes from,) we presently atrived at a massive coral edifice which I took for a fortress at first, but found out directly that it was the Government Prison. A soldier at the great gate admitted us without further authority than my countenance, aud I suppose he thought he was paying mo n handsome compliment when he did so ; and so did 1 until I reflected that the place was a penitentiary. However, as far as appear- ances went, it might have been the king's palace, so neat, and clean, and white, and so full of tho fragrance of flowers was the establishment, and I was satisfied. We passed through a commodious office, whose walU were ornamented with linked strands of polished haudcufFs and fetters, through a hall, aud among the cslls above and below. The. cells for the men were eight or ten feet high, and roomy enough to accommodate the two prisoners and their ham- mocks usually put in each, and have space left for several more. The floors were scrubbed clean, and were guiltless of spot or stain of any kind, and the painfully white walls were un marred by a single mark or blemish. Through ample gratings, one could see the blue sky and get his hair blown off by the cool breeze. They call this a prison — the pleasantest quarters in Honolulu. There are four wards, and one hundred and thirty-two pris- oners can be housed in rare and roomy comfort within them. There were a number of native women in the female depart- ment. Poor devils, they hung their heads under tho prying eyes i'f our party, as if they were really ashamed of being there. In the condemned cell, and squatting on the floor, all swathed in blankets, as if it were cold weather, was a brown- fuced, gray-bearded, old scalliwag, who, in a frolicsome mood, had massacred three women aud a batch of children — his owu property, I believe— and reflects upon that exploit with genu- ine satisfaction to this hour, and will go to the gallows as tranquilly indifferent as a white man would go to dinner. OUT AT THE BACK DOOR. The prison yard — that sad inclosure which, in the prisons ofjny native America, is a cheerless barren, and yieldeth no vegetation save the gallows-tree, with its sorrowful huuian fruit — is a very garden ! The beds, bordered by rows of in- verted bottles (the usual style here) were filled with all man- ner of dainty flowers and shrubs; Chinese mulberry and orange trees stood here and there, well stocked with fruit ; a beautiful little pine tree — rare, and imported from the far South Seas — occupied the centre, with sprays of gracefully arching green spears springing outward like parasol tops, at marked and regular intervals, up its slender stem, and dimin- ishing in diameter with mathematical strictness of graduation, till the sprouting plume at the top stood over a perfect pyra- mid. Vines clambered everywhere and hid from view and clothed with beauty everything that might otherwise have been suggestive of chains and captivity. There was nothing here to remind one of the prison save a brace of dovecotes, containing several pretty birds brought hither from " strange, strange lands beyond the sea." These, sometimes, may pine for liberty aud their old free life among the clouds or iu the shade of the orange groves, or abroad on the breezy ocean — but if they do, it is likely they take it out in pining, as a gen- eral thiug. CAl'TAIN TAIT, SCRIPTURAL STUDENT. Against one wall of the prison house stands an airy little building which does duty as a hospital. A harmless old lunatic, uamed Captain Tart, has his quarters here. He has a wile and children iu the town, but he prefers the prison hospital, and has demanded and enjoyed its hospitality (slip of the pen — no joke intended) for years. He visits his family at loDg intervals — being free to go and come as he pleases — but he always drifts back to the prison again after a few days. His is a religious mania, and he professes to read sixty chap- ters of the Bible every day, and write them down in a book. He was about down to chapter thirty five when I was intro- duced to him, I should judge, as it was nearly two in the afternoon. I said, " What are you reading about, Captain.?" "The precious of the precious — the book of books — the Sacred Scriptures, sir." " Do you read a good deal iu it !" " Sixty chapters a day (with a perceptible show of vanity, but a weary look in the eye withal) — sixty chapters a day, and write them all down in a plain, legible hand." " It is a good deal. At that rate, you must ultimately get through, and run short of material." " Ah, but the Lord looks out for hi3 own. I am in His hands — He does with me as Ho wills. 1 often read some of the same chapters over again, for the Lord tells me what to read, aud it is not for me to choose. Providence always .shows me the place." " No hanging fire ? — I mean, can you always depend on — on this information coming to time every day, so to speak ?" " Always — always, sir. I take the sacred volume iu my hand, in this manner, every morning, in a devout and prayer- ful spirit, aud immediately, and without any volition on my part, my fiugers insert themselves b'etweeu the leaves — so directed from above (with a sanctified glance aloft) — and I know that the Lord desires me to open at that place and begin. I never have to select the chapter myself — the Lord always dues it for me." I heard Brown mutter, " The old man appears to have a good thing, any way — and his poi don't cost him anything, either ; Providence looks out lor his regular sixty, the prison looks out for his hash, and his family looks out for itself. I've never seen any sounder maniac than him, uud I've been around considerable." — "Mark Twain," in lite Sacramento Union. , With, the present number, the Californian commeucea its filth volume aud third year. 10 THE C A L I FORNI AN. [May 26th UNITED STATES STAMP DUTIES. As Amended March 3, 1865. CABEFriXT REVISED AND C08BECTED FOB THE CAUFOBXIAN. PENALTIES. Penalty for making, signing, or issning any instru- ment, document, or paper of any kind whatsoever, ■without the same being duly stamped, for denoting the duty hereby imposed thereon, $50 ; and the instrument shall be deemed invalid and of no effect; or for counterfeiting stamps or dies, $1,000, and im- prisonment to hard labor not exceeding five years. For making, siguing, issuing, accepting, or paying any bill of exchange, draft, order, or uote without stamp, $-.'00. For selling proprietary cosmetics, matches, photographs, etc. , without proper stamps, $10. For removing stamps ou these articles, $50. STAMP DUTIES. Agreement Contract or Appraisement, not other- wise specified, each sheet or piece of paper.. $0 05 Assignment of Mortgage, Lease, or Policy of In- surance, same as original instrument. Assign- ment of Patent Kight 05 Bank Checks, Drafts or orders, exceeding $10, at sight or on demand , 02 Bills of Exchange, (inland,) or draft otherwise than at sight or on demand, or promissory note except bank notes for circulation,) or any memorandum, check or receipt, or any evi- dence of an amount of money payable ou de- mand or at a designated time, for a sum not exceeding $100 05 Every additional $100, or fractional part. .. 05 Bill of Exchange, (foreign,) or letter of credit, drawn in, hut payable out of the U. S., if drawn singly, the same rates as inland hills of exchange, or promissory notes. If drawn in sets of three or more, for each bill of the set, where the sum shall not ex- ceed $100 or its equivalent in any foreign cur- rency in which such bill may be expressed, according to the standard value fixed by U. S. 02 Every additional $100, or fractional part... 02 Bill of Lading, or receipt for anv merchandise or effects, to be exported to a foreign port or place 10 Bill of Sale, conveying any ship or vessel, or any part thereof, where the considerationdoes not exceed $500 50 For every additional $.500, or fractional part thereof 50 Bill of Sale of personal property other than ships or vessels 05 Bond, indemnifying any person for the payment of monev, where the amount recoverable is $1,000 of less 50 For every additional $1,000, or fractional part thereof 50 Bond for the due performance of the duties of any office I 00 Bond of any other description, except such as may be required in legal proceedings, or used in connection with mortgage deeds, and not otherwise charged in this schedule 25 CliaHer-P&rty, ship, vessel or steamer, not over 1.50 tons, $i ; 150 to 300 tons, $•! : 300 to 600 tons, $5 ; over 600 tons 10 00 Certificate of Profits, or any memorandum show- ing an interest in property, or accumulations of anv incorporated company, for a sum not less tfian $10 nor exceeding $50 10 Exceeding $50 and not $1 .000 25 For every additional $1,000 or fract al part 25 Certificate of Damage, and all other certificates or documents issaed by Port Wardens or Ma- rine Surveyors, or other persons acting as such 25 Certificate ot' Deposit, not exceeding the sum of $100, 2 cents ; exceeding $100 05 Certificate of stock in any incorporated comp'y, 25 Certificates, other than specified 05 Contract, broker's note or memorandum of sale of goods, stocks, bonds, exchange notes of hand, real estate, or other description of prop- erty, issued by any person acting as a broker, for each note or memorandum of sale 10 Deed or Conveyance of Real Estate, value not over $500, dOc ; every additional $500, or fractional paft thereof 50 Entry of floods at any custom house, value not over $100, 25c; over $100 and not over $500, 50c.; over $500 1 00 For the withdrawal of goods from bonded warehouse 50 Ganger's Returns, quarterly, for quantity not over 500 galls, gross, 10c; over 500 galls, gr. 25 Insurance (Marine, Inland anil Fire) policy or renewal, premium not over $10, 10c; $10 to $50, 25c. ; over $50, 50c. ; Life policy, under $! .000, 25c ; $1 ,000 to $5,000, 50c; over $5.000. 1 00 Lease of lands or tenements, rent not over $-100 per annum, 50c. ; each add'l $200 or fraction. 50 Manifest, cargo to foreign port, registered ton uage not over 300 tons, $1 ; over 300 and not over 600, $3 ; over 600 tons 5 00 Measurer's Returns, for quantity not over 1,000 , bushels, 10c. ; over 1,000 bushels 25 Mortgage, Trust deed, or personal bond for pay- ment of money, $100 to $500, 50c. ; each addi- tional $500. 1 50 Each assignment of mortgage, lease or pol- icy of insurance, or renewal of the same, is subject to same duties as the original. Medicines or Preparations, Perfumery and Cos- metics— Every package, box, bottle, etc., re- tailing for 25c. or less 01 Each additional 25c. or fractional part there- of, up to $1, lc; each additional 50c. or fractional part thereof, over $1 02 Plaving Curds — Each pack, price not over 18c, 2c.; from 18 to 25c, 4c. ; 25 to 50c, 10c,;. 50c. to $1, 15c; each additional 50c. or fractional part thereof 05 Photographs, Ambrotypes, Daguerreotypes or Sun Pictures, upon each, retailing for 25c. or less, 2c; over 25 and not over 50c, 5c; over 50c. and not over$l, 3c; each additional $1 or fractional part thereof 05 Passage Ticket to foreign port, cost not over $35, 50c: over $35 and not over $50, $1 ; every ad- ditional $50 or fractional part thereof 1 00 Power of Attorney to sell or transfer stock, scrip, bonds, or collect divii'eB U or int. thereon 25 To vote for officers of incorporated cornp'y or society not religious, charitable or literary, or public cemeteries...... 10 To receive or collect rents 25 To sell, convey, rent or lease real estate 1 00 For any other purpose. 50 Probate of Will, or letters of administration, es- tate not over $2,000, $1 ; each additional $1,000 or fractional part thereof 50 Protest of note, bill, acceptance check or draft, 25 Promissory Note — See Hill of Exchange, inland. Receipt for payment of money or debt over $20, not being for satisfaction of mortgage, judgment or decree of Court, and receipt for the delivery of property 02 Warehouse, for property stored, not over $500 in value, 10c. ; $500 'to $1,000, 20c. ; every additional $1,000 10 For any goods held in storage, and not other- wise provided for 25 Weigher's Returns, up to 5,000 lbs., 10c. ; over 5,000 lbs v 25 Writs, or original process, for commencing suit in Court of record, and in Court not of rec- ord, when amount claimed is $100 or over, except before Justices of the Peace, or in court of no greater jurisdiction as to dam- ages, or in suit commenced by the United States or any State 50 Upon every confession of judgment, or cogno- vit, for $100 or over, except where tax for a writ has beeu paid 50 Writs or process on appeal from Justice's courts and other conrls of inferior jurisdic- tion to courts of record 50 Warrant of distress — rent claimed under $100, 25c; over $100 50 G BEAT ATTRACTION! THE >j FASHIONS ARE ALL THE GO! Lamott, Hatter, IS NOW THE MAN* I HE IS READY WITH HIS BROADWAY STYLES FOR THE Spring of 18b'6. JUST SEE THE DIFFERENCE between his styles Mid the others in this city. Tliero is style about his Hals thai does not apiiear in others. FACTS ARE STUBBORN THINGS ! LAMOTT, 2i7 Russ Block, is bound to be the LEADER of Fashions. LAMOTT S SPRING STYLES show taste. It is a good thing that you have a man aninug you who is witling to take a stand outside of oth- ers, to introduce a style that is new, and not follow in the wake of others that are about one year hi-hmd the times. GO TO HIS STORE FOK A HAT, No. 220 Montgomery street, and get something that is new. mar22-3m HEUSTON, HASTINGS & CO. The Fashionable Clothiers SAN FRANCISCO, Have established a TRUNK DEPOT in the base ment of their Store equal to any in New York, and prices 20 per cent, lower than any other House in the city. niarl"-3in B ALD-HEADED CENTLEMEN, Who frcqnent the Parquet of Theatres, exciting by their grotesque appearance the merriment of La- dies in the Dress Circle, would pi-otic by using Little & Co.'s Chinese Vegetable Hair Restorative. Tlie proprietors of this nstonishing remedy for Raldneas, conlident of its infallibility, agree to re- fund the purclwise money in every instance where its use for three months, according to directions, is unattended with success. Price per jar, $2.50. Manufactured by Little & Co. ; sold by CHAS. E. HINCKLEY & CO., Chemists and Druggists, Southeast corner of Clay ami Kearny streets, ap21-lui Sim Kraucisco. B R1TISH PERIODICALS. The London Quarterly Review (Conserv- ative.) The Edinhcrcii Review (Whig.) The Westminster Review (Radical.) The North British Review (Free Church.) Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine (Tory.) The interest of these Periodicals to American readers is rather increased than diminished by the articles they contain on our late Civil Wat, and though sometimes tinged with prejudice, they may still, considering their great ability, and the different stand points from which they are written, be read and studied with advantage by the people of this country, of every creed and party. TERMS FOR 18G6. For any one of the Reviews, per annum $4 For any two of the Reviews, per annum 7 For any three of the Reviews, per annum 10 For all four of the Keviews, per annum 12 For Blackwood s Magazine, per annum 4 For 1 Slack wood and one Review, per annum 7 Blackwood and any two of the Reviews, per an.. 10 Blackwood and three of the Reviews, per umiuui.13 Blackwood and the four Keviews, per annum 15 CLUBS. A discount of ticcitty />er cent, will be allowed to clubs of four or more persons. Thus, four copies of Black wood, or of one Review, will be sent to one titiilrrsx far $1"-' BO, Four copies of the four Reviews aud Blackwood, for $1S, and so on. POSTAGE. When sent by mail, the Postage to any part of the Union will be but Twenty-four Cent's a vear for Blackwood, and but Eight Cents a year for each of the Reviews UKDUCEO PII1CES Foil PREVIOUS VEAUS. Subscribers may obtain the Repriuts immediately preceding I860, as follows, viz, : Blackwood from September, 1 80 1, to December, 1865, inclusive, at the rate of $2 50 a year. The North British from January, lSbo, to Decem- ber, 1865, inclusive; the Edinburgh and the West- minster from April, 1864, to December, 1865, inclu- sive, and the London Quarterly for the year 1865, at the rate of $1 50 a year for each or any Review. A few copies yet remain of all the Four Reviews for 1863 at $ I a ret. or $1 50 for any one. LEONARD SCOTT & CO. , Publishers, 38 Walker street, New York. COMMERCIAL EDUCATION. Pacific Business College, 751 MARKET STREET, (BETWEEN TlilRDAND FOURTII.) SAN FRANCISCO. An Institution designed to prepare Young ami Middle aged men tor an aclivc and successful BUSINESS LIFE. This is Ihu largest, most complete, and thorough Insti- tution of the kind on the const, and THE ONLY Commercial College which is conducted on Actual Business Principles. Its great system of Business Training is en- dorsed by the Most Eminent Financiers aud Business MM of the Nalina. REGULAR BANKS AND BUSINESS OFFICES have been mtrodiiccd, by which we arc cuabled to at our Students in the best nossitlle manner, and shortest pos- sible lime, for active Business Life. Those in pursuit of a PRACTICAL BUSINESS EDUCATION should examine the merits of this College. Send lor I lie COLLEGE REVIEW, giving full particulars of the Col- lege, besides contaiokfs other Important and Interesting mailer. Sent free to all desiring it. Further particulars < an he In 1 uy calling at (he College, or addressing M. K. LAI.'DENSLAGER. President fe!7 3ra Business College, San Francisco. pAOIFIC OCEAN HOUSE SANTA CRUZ, CAL. THTS NEW AXP COMMODIOUS HOTEL, built ami fur- iiishi'd in accordance wtlli tho most modern an<l improved plans, and with a view to the comfort uud convenience of its patrons, is now open for the rcceplimi of quests. To those who have visited S uiUi Cruz, it is unnecessary to p peak of its beauties and its natural advantages over all other places of Summer Resort. To tho.-e who have not, the Pi"prirtor t an only say COMB AND JUDGE J'uJi YOVJiXFL VJlS— giving all who may come thf affluranoe that his earnest eOrttftVOrf Bfaall be Co make the H"tel, in all its appointment?, equal to the eurrouudiugs of this delightful Sea side Resort. GEO. T. BROMLEY, Santa Cruz, April 4. lS6b\ Proprietor. jyjR. AND Ml;.S. Ci it, ILL AND SONS, Teachers of Dancing, CONGRESS TIALL, On Bnsh-st. ,aojoiiiin Rues House. SCHOOL — MONDAYS AND WEDNESDAYS. Ladies at 2 p. it. Gentlemen and Ladies >t i 12 i\ st SwIDw every Friday Evening. Hall «o rent. myo 3m [>ISOO I G. * F. MARTELL'S COGNAC ; JAMES HENNESSY'S Cognac J STEAMBOAT GIN ; OLD TOM GIN ; IRL^H WHISKY. Iron? Bond direct. Fcr sale by V. SQARZA, »2S Lie'lesdorff street, Han Francisco. QCCIDENTAL HOMESTEAD Association, . 305 MONTGOMERY STREET. OFFICE, Capital Stock, §33,600. 102 SHARES $330 EACH. This Association was formed to ennlile its mem- bers to obtain desirable homestead lots in this city at a cheap and easy rate, iiaying for the same by regular monthly instalments. For this puiposc they have purchased Blocks 409 . 500, and 501, in the Western Addition to this cpy , bounded by Dcvisadero, Pine, Broderick and Clay streets. Subscribers will pay an initiation fee of $5 on each share taken, to form a fund tor defraying curreut ex- penses, and $11 per month for thirty months, commen- cing in April, 1S66. The pro|»erty is within three blocks of tho TURK STREET RAILROAD, IS NEARLY ALL ON THE GRADE, and is most desirably located for Homestead purposes. It Is directly cast from the lands of the California Association. The projicrty has been purchased on very reasonablo terms, and offers a rare opportunity for investment. A number of line houses are In process of erection, and streets arc beiug graded near this pro|>crty, which will greatly increase its value. When twelve moulhly payments have been made, tho properly will be divided among the members in the usual m-uiner, ami oach shareholder will receive a contract for a dcod to the lot or lots to which ho may be entitled, and have the privilege of taking immediate i>osscssioa of iho same. The lots average 2" reel in front by 120 feet in depth. The whole amount due upon any lot may be paid at any lime, and discount at the rate of ono aud one-half per cent, per month will be deducted thsrefrom. Persons wishing lo visit the lands of this Association will lake the Turk street cars to Devisadero street, and theme go northerly alone Devisadero to Pino street. Twenty thousand dollars of the capital stocK is taken, and the books are open for subscription lo the balance at tbeolllccof the Secretary, whore the Ollieial Map of tho Association can be seen, and lull particulars obtained. Tlte Title to this Property is Per/eel. 3. S. LUTY, Secretary, Olllce, 305 Montgomery street, corner of Pine, mjT9-3m Rooms 2 and 6. pACIFIC MAIL STEAMSHIP CO.'S Through Line to New York. CARRYING THE U. & MALL! Leave Folsom street Wharf at 11 o'clock a. ». of tho following dates. Tor PANAMA, connecting via Panama Railroad, with ouc of the Company's splendid steame rs from ASP1NWAI.L for NEW YuRK. On the 16th, 18lh,rud 30th of each mnnlh that has 30 days. On the 10th, 191b, and 30th of each moulh that has 31 days. When the 10th, 19lh and 30lh fall ou Sunday, they will leave on Saturday preceding ; when the 18th falls on Sun- day, they w ill leave ou Monday following. Steamer leaving San Francisco on the 10th touches at Mauzinillo. All looeh at Aoapolrn. Ii,:|>arture or" 191b connects with French Transatlantic rompnhy's steamer for St. Nazaire, and English steamer for South America. Departure of loth connects with English steamer for Southampton, aud P. R R Co.'s .steamer for Central America. Departure of 30th connects with English steamer for Tuuiuco, the pflpft of the new mines. STEAM KKS FOR MAY: The following steamsht|is will be despatched from San Francisco ou Ihe date given : MAY 30111, .... SACRAMENTO, Captain J. M. Cavarly. (Connecting with ARIZONA , Captain Maury.) An experienced Surgeon on board. Modkinc and attend- ance free. Cabin Passengers will be berthed through. Baggago checked through — 100 pounds allowed oadf adult. For Merchandise Freight apply lo Messrs. Wells, Fargo & Co. The steamer will positively leave at 11 o'clock. Pas- sengers nre requested to have their baggage On board be- fore 10 o'clock For Passage and all other information, apply at Pacific Mail Steamship ooaspany'soflicc, corner nl .sicramenio and LcidcsdorlT streets. OLIVER ELDRIDOK, Agent. (jaxty ,v Wagner, (SUCCESSORS TO .1. REGAN,) WHOLESALE AN D RETAIL Confectioners, 111 Montgomery street, bet. Bush and Sutler . N. B. — All candies sold by us are warranted lo be man- nfaclurcd from Stewart's double reilned Sugai . and to bo equal to miy manufactured in the State. Country mer- chants solicited to examine our stock and prices. Goods delivered to any pal I ol 11)0 city I rue of charge. 1.-S4 3m (JiIARLES F. KIKHX, or Richn, Hem me & Co., A S S A Y I K S , GIVES LESSONS IN As-.V YlNG— A I. SO IN MIXER- alogy and chemistry, as tar as required to become a Frac- tion! As-ayer. Montgomery street, corner of Saorauicuto, under Don- oh'j*, Kelly & W.*d Bank, San Praucnfto. mars 3m May 26th THE C ALIFORNIAN. 11 rjIHE CALIFORNIAN'S SAN FRANCISCO BUSINESS DIRECTORY. BATHS. Dr. Bourne's, (Medical,) 10Post,near Montgomery APOTFIECARY. George H. Clapp, corner Sixth and Howard. BUSINESS AND PROPERTY AGENCY. S. P. Whitman, 313 Montgomery sf BOWLING ALLEYS. ' Wtiolers k Sturkc, Pine and Montgomery , (Russ House.) A. Gcnsoul, 511 Montgomery. A. Raman k Co., 417 and 419 Montgomery street. BOOTS AND SHOES. Finch k Co. , 133 Montgomery street. I. M. Wcutworth « Co/ (wholesale manufac.) 210 Pme St. CLOTHS, CASSIMERES, AND TRIMMINGS. E. Weill k Sons, removed to 616 Sacramento street. COLLECTOR. B. Pnlvorman, 526 Montgomery — Office hoars, 1 to 3 p.m. CLOTHING. H Ml Lookwood & Co., 624 Clay street. J. li. Head & Co., corner Montgomery anil Bush strec ts William Sherman, 412 S insdhie, corner Commercial. Qoiucy H ill, 545, 547, and 549 Washington street. COAL OIL, LAMPS, ETC. l Dell, Cranna & Co. (wholesale) 613 Front street. A. C. Dietz k Co., (wholesale,) 521 Front street. COPPER CRUSHER AND SAMPLER. S W. Howland, 24 California street, (at Thomas' Mill.) DRESS TRIMMINGS, WORSTEDS, ETC. Mrs. Norcross, 5 Montgomery street (Masonic Temple.) DENTISTS. Dr. Blake, removed to Third, corner Mission. Dr. A. N. Clark (lato Knowlcs.& Clark) removed to 410 Kearny. Whiteomh k Dyer, 205 Thin', near Howard. DANCING ACADEMY. Coghill's. Congress H ill. Bush, above Montgomory Fuller k McCarthy, 727 Market, near Third. DRY GOODS. Meagher, Taaflb k Co. . 9 Montgomery street; Mosgrovo & Blakely, 222 Third, near. Howard. K. H. McDonald &Co., (Wholesale) Sausome, cor. Pino- Shrpardson k Gates, (successors to R. Hall k Co.,) cor^ uer Sausome ami Commercial. EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. Cal. Collegiate Institute, Miss M. Linimoiid, 68 Silver. Miel Institute, Miss Florence James, 55 South Park. Pacific Business College, 751 Market street, above Third. FURNITURE. G Iwin & Co., 510 and 528 Washington streets. J. Peirce, 415, 417 and 419 California street, OROCERS. N. Boschen, corner Fifth and Minna. Sios-on & I, old, souihvrfest comer Foleom and First. P .1. Klvmi, corner Howard and Eighth streets. II iskell's Co. , Market and Sutler sts, below the Market W. M. Noble k Co., cor Howard and Twelfth streets. HATTER. Lamott (wholesale and retail) 227 Montgomery street, HOTELS. Brooklyn. John Kelly , Jr., S.insonm, corner Pine. Chicago, E. W. HeimburgTk Co., 220 Pacific street. INSURANCE. Bigelow & Bro. , N.W. cor. Montgomery and Sacramento. Mutual Life Ins. Co., H. S. Hoinatis, A",ont, 609 Clav. M inhattan, R. B. Swain & Co. , Ag'ls, 206 Front, cor Cal. National Ins. Co.,N.E cor. Montgomory and California. Occidental Ins. Co. , S. W. cor. Moutgom'y and California: Pacific Ins. Co. , 436 California street. LADIES' BI.IOITTHP.IK, CLOAKS, ETC. Rosenblatt's, 123 and 125 Montgomery street. MAPS. Pacific Map Depot, A. Gcnsoul, 511 Montgomery. MERCHANT TAILORS. J. H. Hammond removed to 328 Montgomery. MILLINERS. Mrs. Wheeler, Popper's building, Third, near Mission. PAPER HANGINGS, WINDOW SHADES, ETC II. Ward, 132 Third street. PIANO SCHOOL. Mr. Gustavo A. Scott, at Miel Institute, 55 South Park. PIANOS, MUSIC, ETC. M. Gray, 613 Clay street. PHOTOGRAPHS, CUTLERY, SPECTACLES, ETC. Lawrence * House-worth, 317 and 319 Montgomery st. REAL ESTATE. Fifteen. dollar lots for sale by H. S. Brown, S.E. corner of Battery and Commercial streets. RESTAURANTS. Bivalve, N»Hing & Sp-een, 610 Market, near Kearny. -Eureka. ('. 11. Bfickwedell & Co., Clay, near Moutgom'y Market, bv Fciix and Gustavo Besson', 520 Merchant. Pliiladelpli'ia, .Iar,,b Weiss, 308 Montgomery street. Helvetia, Jolinjury & Bros., 524 Merchant street. Saulmauu's, 508 Montgomery street. SALOONS. Charter Oik. Frank Kelly, N E cor Third and Howard Gltio's 527 Washington, ajjove the Market. \ Jones' Simple RoblnS, S.E. cor. Montgomery and Cal. Hunter & Mver.«, 332 Montgomery street. V. Bquarza, 44 Leidesdorff street. Sun Burst, Carolin & McArdle, cor. Second and Market. Coates & Henderson, 37 Sutter street. .-Ml - ' >n . SCALES. . ., ,: Fairbanks & Hutchinson, Depot for Fairbanks' Scales 334 Montgomery street. SEWING MACHINES. Grover & Baker. .1. W. J. Pearson, 116 Montgomery. The Fjoiento, olllce 111 Montgomery streot. Wheeler & Wilson, corner Montgomery and Sacramento TOYS, ETC. Feldbuah & Co., 207 Montgomery street. A. Kohlor, 620 Washington street. WATER-CURE INSTITUTE. Dr Bourne's Pioneer, 10 Post, near Montgomery gPRING AND SUMMER STYLE SILK HAT, 18 6 6 INTRODUCED MARCH 3 McGANN & CO., FASHIONABLE HATTERS, No. 654 Washington street, Two doors below Kearny. SPRING AND SUMMER STYLES. — Silk, Felt, Beaver, and other HATS for sale at the lowest prices. CAPS of every description, suitable for all ages, made to order. McGANN & CO., being experienced and skilled in all the branches of the manufacture of Hats, feel confident of giving entire satisfaction to their patrons. Every description of Hats and Caps niade to order. Remember, McGANN &CO., Practical Hatters, G54 Washington street, two doors below the Plaza. New Goods by every steamer. niai'10 T HE NORTH BRITISH AND . MERCANTILE INSURANCE CO OF LONDON AND EDINBUROH. • ESTABLISHED, 1809. Capital, ----- $10,000,000 Accumulated Funds, March 6, 1865, - - 11,622,500 Annual Income, - 2,827,290 Deposit in California under State law, - $75,000 GENERAL AGENCY FOR THE PACIFIC STATES AND TERRITORIES, No. 4i£2 California street, - - - Sau Francisco Insurances effected at the lowest rate;! on buildings ol both Brick and Wood, throughout the State, whetner occupied as Stores, Dwellings, or Warehouses, togetbci with their contents. Also, VESSELS in port, with or without their Cargoes Also, QUART/, MILLS and MACHINERY. LOSSES PAID IN UNITED STATES GOLD COIN im- mediately on adjustment. WM. H. TlLLINGHAST, Agent, aula JJOSENBAUM'S BITTERS CREATE A HEALTHY A P PETITE I ROSENBAUM'S BITTERS Cure Dyspepsia, Diarrhoea and Constipation ROSENBAUM'S BITTERS Invigorate the System and enliven the mind. ROSENBAUM'S BITTERS Overcome the effects of Drunkeuuess and I«itc Hours. ROSENBAUM'S BITTERS Cure all Diseases of the Liver, Stomach and Bowels. ROSENBAUM S BITTERS Arc Palatable to the Taste. They are the BEST BITTERS IN THE MARKET, And when once used will always be called . for again. They are made in the most careful manner From Pure Old Wheat Whisky, Medicated from Roots and Herbs Especially adapted for the cure of all Stomachic Disease? and Liver Complaints. Try Them and You 'will be Satisfied. For sale every where by Druggists and Liquor Dealers N. B. JACOBS & CO., 42'.i Front street, fell 6m Sau Fraucisco (CALIFORNIA Steam Navigation Company. STEAMER CAPITAL CAPT. E. A. TOOLE. CUUYSOPOLIS.CAPT. A. FOSTER. YOSEMlTE " CORNELIA CAPT. W. BROMLEY. " JULIA CAL'T E CONCKLIX. One of the above steamers leave BROADWAY WHARF, nt4o'cltuk V.1A, EVERY DAT, (Sundays excepted,) for Sacramento and ouo for Stockton, the Sacramento steamer connecting with light-draft steamers for Marysville, Co- lusa, Chlco and Red Bluff Steamships AJAA', PACIFIC, ORIZABA, CAIIFOR- NlA, ACTIVE, and SENATOR, leave as advertised, for Honolulu, Portland, Oregon, New . Westminster, British Columbia, Victoria, cV.T,) Santa Barbara, San Pedro, aud Sau Diego. Office of the Company, northeast corner of Front and Jackson streets, mar23 B. M. HARTSHORNE, President. QCCTDENTAL INSURANCE COMPANY, S. W Cor. MONTGOMERY and CALIFORNIA STREETS INDIVIDUAL LIABILITY. CAPITAL STOCK, $300,000 LOSSES PAID IN UNITED S1ATES GOLD COIN. THIS COMPANY will insure against loss by Fire on any Dwelling House, Buildings, Merchandise or other property, situated in the State of California. The largest sum they will take on any one risk is thirty thousand dollars. CHRISTOPHER CHRISTIANSEN, President. J. GREENEBAUM, Vice President. B. Rothschild, Secretary. mh25-tf jgOYS! BOYS! BOYS! NOW IS THE TIME 1 H. M. LOCKWOOD & CO., New No. 624) CLAY STREET, (Old No 17 Have received a Large Stock of GENTS' AND BOYS' CLOTHING — AND — ' FURNISHING GOODS, Which they are selling AT VERY LOW PRICES. Every Garment warranted. All are invited to call and examine our goods. H. M. LOCKWOOD k CO. jil 624 Clay street, San Francisco. QREAT TRIUMPH ! ! STEINWAY & SONS Woronwardod the FIRST PRIZE MEDAL at the labs INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION AT LONDON, over the two hundred and sixty nine Pianos entered for competition from all parts of the world. Tin' Special Corresiiondout of the New York Times says : " Messrs. Stemway & Sons' indorsement by the Juron is emphatic, and stronger and more to the point than that of any European maker." A constant supply of the above superior instruments can be found at the Agent's, M. GP.AY, 613 Clay street. PIANO TUNING done by a first-class Workman, from Stciuway k Sou's Factory, New York. my25 QEO. P. KIMBALL & CO., Carriage Manufacturers, CORNER MARKET AND FOURTH STREETS, San Francisco. GEORGE T. KIMBALL... . .W. H. KNIGHT. We have always on baud a large assortment of Coaches, Carriages, Buggies, Thoroughbrace Wagons, Express, Grocery. Soda and Butcher Wagons and Lumber Gears. CARRIAGES AND WAGONS Of every description made to order ami at shortest no- tice. Particular attention paid to the building of Wide Track Buggies and Wagons with Brakes, for mountain use. Orders from the country promptly attended to. N. B. Kimball's Patent Goose Neck Trucks on hand. mai 2 3ai B EER AND WINE SALOON. Faust Cellar. Southeast corner of Clay and Montgomery streets. A. L. THIELE Proprietor WESTPHALIA HAMS, RUSSIAN CAVIAR, SARDINES, Anchovies, Swiss aud Limburg t heese, etc ; the flnest Brands of Liquors, Wiues, Cigars, and Seltzer Water, Wholesale ami Retail. &g- Fialnng and Hunting Parties fitted out at the short- est notice. fc24-3ra rpHB ONLY LIVING ASTROLOGER, PROF. COHEN, 530 California street, San Francisco, THROUGH HIS NATURAL GUT, can give correct ,„,,„. matioii on the Past, Present and Future, on any subject that may be required so as to avoid trouble. As evidence ot his reputation, he has received over 18,000 consul tai ions during his residence of six years in San Francisco I Con- sulfation fee, $2. By letter, $3. Letter box, 104. It is not necessary to give the age. Office, 630 California street. Hours irom 8 a. a. to 11 r. M. maris 3ro c COME AND SEE ME! BR. JOHN HE ALT), DENTIST, HAS REMOVED TO THE CORNER KEARNY AND CALIFORNIA STS, Where lie will be pleased to see all old friends, and plenty of new oues. Every variety of Dental Operations per- formed in the best manner, and at prices that shall suit all persons. aWENTKANCE ON CALIFORNIA SREET. ap2S uin PURNITURE B EBBING/ LARGEST STOCK! LATEST STYLES/ The Best Workmanship, Ji"i li .(tetdtr rKHUatettKHpyi'HiJofui fen* fi'-fU LOWEST PRICES! AT Goodwin Co. ' s FURNITURE WARE-ROOMS, Nos. 508, 510, 518 and 528 Washinglon-st. jal6 SAN FRANCISCO. O o o © © ■-4 © O O 1=1 O s fOS. W1NTERBURN & CO. J. WINTERBURN, V. A. TORHAS, VV. HOFFSCHNEIDER. (Successors- to W. P. Harrison.) Printers and Electrotypcrs, 413 TO 417 CLAY ST., (lielow Sausome,) SAN FRANCISCO. ALL KINDS OF JOB PRINTING Neatly and Promptly Executed. ELECT ROTYPING Done at tiie shortest notice. Stamps of all kinds made to order. Printing in Spanish , French , German and Italian Lan- guages, executed with correctness. A " Mammoth " aud two No. 3 Hand Presses FOR SALE very cheap. fe3-3m gMOKE THE PATENT RUSSIAN CIGARETTES, MANUFACTURED BY GIBB & STAHL, 120 KEARNY STREET, SAN FRANCISCO. For sale at all Cigar Stores. ap2S-3m CALIFORNIA BRASS FOUNDRY, No. 125 First street, opposite Minna, SAN FRANCISCO. A I! I- i nils of Brass, Composition, Zinc, rind Babbitt Metal Cast in n , / il mi shed a( the shortest notice. Brass Ship -Wm I. i'f all kinds, Spikes, Sheathing Nails, Rudder Braces, Hinges, etc., constantly on hand arid made to order. Also, manufacture Ship and Steamboat Bells and Gongs or superior* tone. All kinds of Steam, Liquor, Water, Oil, and Flango Cocks and Valves niado and repaired. . Hydraulic Pipes and Nozzles, and Hose Couplings and Connections of all sizes and patterns, furnished with dis- Batjjh. PRICES MODERATE. JOHN P. GALLAGHER. JOSEPH B! WEED, marlO 3m SAMUEL WHITE. jy£ONEY TO LOAN ! MONEY TO LOAN On City Real. Estate, Dwellings, Factories, Merchandise, for such time as may be agreed (nr posits recejved in small or large sums, at interest, by the CALIFORNIA BUILDING, LOAN AND SAV- INGS HANK California street, (.mo do... limn Sausome street.) mj'5 3ia THOMAS M00NEV, President. 12 THE CALIFORNIAN. [May 26th LES BOURRAS PAILLE SON. AT Marseilles, on the 4th of September, 1865, there died by the hand of the executioner a man, whose crime of murder with very ^extenuating circumstances, had excited a 6trong feeling of indignation against him. Immeuse crowds, of whom the majority were women, assembled to see him pay the last penalty of the law. The weakness of the prisoner was so great that he had to be carried in the arms of the exe- cutioner to the cart which conveyed him to the place where the guillotine was erected ; and arriving at the Place Sebas- topol, ho was assisted by two men to ascend the steps that led to the platform. To add to the horrors of the scene, the mother of his victim was among the crowd ; and when she Baw him on the platform of the guillotine, uttered the most piercing cries, calling for vengeance upon the murderer of her child. To a foreigner, happening to witness the execution, thsre was another circumstance which, if not so horrible as the cries of the mother for blood, must have been equally strange and interesting. When the knife had done its work, and the executioner and his assistants had disappeared, four men, grave, silent, unknown, their faces covered with an im- penetrable veil, made their appearance, and toik possession of the dead body. The crowd manifested no surprise on seeing them ; it was evident that though none knew their nimes, every one knew their offv'.e, and on every hand might be heard in a low tone, " Voila les Tloitrras Faille Son." Any one who saw them for the first time on the platform in the Place Sebastopol, in the early light of that September morning, and who knew nothing of their office and work, will probably never forget the impression produced on his mind. They were cov- ered from their shoulders to their feet with a long robe of coarse cloth, such as is used for packing ; around their waists was a thick rope, which served as a belt or girdle ; the whole of their head and face was covered with an immense cowl or hood, in which two small holes were made to enable them to see their way. Such were the Bcutras Paille Son ; and the question might well rise to the stranger's lips, What are they, and what do they do ? The system of public penitence which the Church of Rome instituted at an early period of her history, was the occasion of many strange developments, and in one of these this order took its rise. Abbe Fleury, in his Histoire de I'F/lise, says that in the year 1250 there grew up a new kind of doctrine, or, as he calls it elsewhere, penitence ; that, beginning at TVrouse, it spread to Rome, and thence through the whole of Italy. The nobles and the common people, old and young, even to children of five year3 of age, were so in awe of the wrath of God, in con- sequence of the great crimes that were committed throughout the country, that they went in penitence through the streets of the city naked from their waists upwards. They marched two and two in procession, each having in his hand a whip made of leather, with which they struck themselves till their bodies were covered with blood, at the same time littering the most doleful lamentations, imploring the mercy of God, and the help of the Virgin. They did this even in the night, through a very cold winter. Thousands, and, in some places, ten thousand at once, thus walked in procession, attended by priests carrying the cross and its banners, visiting the churches, and prostrating themselves before the altar. The same scenes were acted in small towns and villages, so that the mountains and the plains resounded with the cries of the penitents. From Italy this penitence spread to Germany and Poland, the devotees adopting the practice of covering their heads and faces, so as not to be known. This new kind of devotion, however, soon became obnoxious to the rulers both of the church and the state ; to the former because there was an evi- dent tendency to form a sect — indeed, a sect was in some measure formed, the members of which attributed to them- selves priestly functions : to the latter from a fear lest such crowds of people might be made use of for political purposes. All such practices were therefore forbidden under the severest penalties, and Fleury says, in his own naive way, " This sect was thus soon dispersed and abandoned, as it was formed with- out authority and without reason." From the ruins of this sect there sprung up a number of brotherhoods, each of which gave itself to some special work. One undertook the care of the sick, another the burying of the dead, another the performance of certain special devotions in the public cemeteries. Kach society was known and named from the color of the robe worn by its members ; and so there were black penitents, white penitents, gray penitents ; in fact, almost every color known to the dyer. " Kach," to quote a writer in the Petit Journal, " aimed at the accomplishment of an act of charity, the observance of an act of penitence, the doing regubrly a religions work." Some of these are still tound in the south of France, and among them Les Bourras Paille Son. The work to which they devote themselves Is the burial of the poor ; but among them there is a select band, who have vowed not only to bury the poor, but also to perforin this last act of charity for those who have perished by the hand of the executioner. These are distinguished from their brethren by wearing a tan-colored robe ; this peculiar color may have been chosen for the same reason that the guillotine is paiuted red — that is, that spots of blood may the less easily be seen. On the eve of an executiou, what is called a chapel is held, at which all the members of the fraternity assist who have taken upon themselves the vow of interring the con- demned. Lots are drawn in order to ascertain which of their number are to do duty on^the following day. The four thus selected, clad in their hoods and robes, make their way through the crowd to the foot of the scaffold. The executioner aud bis assistants, when they have done their work, retire from the platform, leaving the body of the victim still attached to the plank, and his head in the receptacle into which it falls. Standing at the foot of the ladder, the priest of the commu- nity then addressed the four brethren thus : " There is no longer a criminal here, but the mortal remains of a man whom God created in his own image, and we are come to bury him." The brethren respond, " Amen." They then ascend the lad- der, detach the body from the plank, and, having made athick bed of straw and bran in the middle of a large coarse cloth, place the dead body upon it. They then take the head aud joiu it to the trunk, and sew up the winding-sheet with strong thread. This being done, the body is placed on a bier, and, attended by the priest who has given absolution to the crimi- nal, they carry it to the cemetery. Their name, Bourras Paille Son, is derived partly from the material' of which their robe is made, and partly from the Araw and bran they use so largely in the performance of their sell-imposed duty. Bure, the French word for coarse pack- ing-cloth, is pronounced in the patois of the South hourra ; paille is French for straw, and son for bran. Every grade and profession of society is represented in this strange brother- hood, and, like poverty, the vow to enter it brings a man into singular associations. General Camas, peer of France, and for some time general-in-chiet of the eighth division, was one of the Bourras Paille Son. llis colleague in the stall of the chapel belongiug to the order was Father Jerome, a crossing- sweeper, and one day the latter was heard to say to the gen- eral, " There is nothing equal in the world ; no man is just like his brother ; one blade ot grass differs from its fellows : but true equality, real brotherhood is found at the foot of the cross in our little chapel, Les Bourras Paille Sou." Men enter the order from different motives ; oue because he has been crossed in love ; another because he has lost those dear to him by bereavement ; with another, conscience has been busy, and under the influence of remorse or contrition, he vows to enter the brotherhood Les Bourras Paille Son. But the vow once made is, as a rule, observed. The writer of the article in the Petit Journal, from whom I have before quoted, relates the following anecdote in illustration of this : M. Lombardon, who had filled the office of President of the Tribunal of Com- merce, took the vow. Some time after, he met a friend, who remarked that he was extremely -agitated, and asked what was the matter. " The lot has fallen on me, and I have to attend the execution to-morrow." His friend suggested that he might easily fiud a substitute. "No," said he; "I have made a vow, and 1 must accomplish it to the end." In a few days he again met his friend, and in answer to his inquiries, said, "0 my friend, nothing gives a man strength like the performance of duty." T II E STORY OF A M A C II I N E . DO those who go about their daily avocations or pursuits, ever for a moment think of the brain-work that has been necessary to enable them to more effectually do what they do? Are we not every day passing through a world where the minutest object we see should remind us of the great mechani- cal skill o( the age ? Every hour of the day we are indebted to a pin for aid, and yet hunt lew of us know anything about a pin ! Ilow little do we think of the great minds that, have been brought to bear upon the making of that simple bit of pointed brass — of the brains that have plodded over the ma- chine— of the skillful men who have worked beside it, year after year, bringing forth daily new thoughts, all of which should tend to its perfection. All this went through our head as we stood and viewed the almost human working of a machine — a sewing machine. We remember the day, not so many years ago, when the idea of a machine to sew would have beeu scouted ; but at last came a whisper, and then a rumor, and, finally, an announcement that something of the kind was upon the tapis, and, at last the machine of Howe was announced. This was barely 20 years ago, and from that time till now we do not intend to follow the improvements, but simply to speak jf the march of the sewing machine as one of those wonderful things that are oc- curring about us every day, which we do not stop to wonder at until our attention is absolutely arrusted. We select the Floreuce Sewing Machine for our illustration, for the simple reason that we cannot help endorsiug it as the greatest of all machines calculated to do that style of labor. What it claims for itSelf is, that it makes tour different stitches— the lock, knot, double-lock, and double-knot, each stitch being alike on both sides of the fabric— and that each machine has' the reversible feed motion, enabling the operator, by turning a screw, to run the work either to the left or right. The next point is the sell-adjusting tension, that teusiou being always in proportion to the size of the bobbin. These are the main points of excellence claimed for the machine, and the points wherein it differs from all other sewing machines ; and having stated these, we will give a short history of the machine itself, and the place. of its manufacture. The original idea of the Florence Sewing Machine came from Leander W. Langdon, an inventive genius, who was always about machine shops, and always making something after his own ideas. Finally, after a variety of singular me- chanical successes, he took it into his head to make a sewing machine, and did so. This was in Rochester, and the same machine is now in the possession of the present Florence Com- pany. After various efforts to bring his machine into notice, he came to Florence, Massachusetts, a village within a short distance of Northampton, Hampshire county, so near as almost to be considered a suburb, and brought it before Mr. S. L. Hill, then a manufacturer of sewing machines, and Mr. D. G. Littlefield. They saw its merit, nud the final result was the formation of a company, with a capital of 3200,000, to manu- facture. The fame of the machine spread rapidly, aud it be- came necessary to increase its production. This increase will be understood when it is known that in 18GI only 50 machines were sold ; in 1862, 1,100 ; in 1863, 3,500 ; and in 18C4, 6,- 000 ; while now, with a sale of 1 ,500 per month, the company are putting 8200,000 more capital, and the facilities will be so increased that the production will be doubled. The buildings of the company cover three acres of ground, and UTe work employs 350 men. In the increase of manufac- ture, it will not be necessary to increase the number of men in the^ame ratio as the manufactured machines como out, the present machinery being capablo of doing twice the work, with a small addition of force ; and yet the company are just about to embark the sum of i?200 000 more for the purpose of extending their manufacture, from the fact that they arc not able now to supply the demand. The process of manufacture is simply this : Upon the first, orgrouud-floorof this immense factory, is the foundry. Thero all the castings are made, and the finishing, and on the same floor the japanning is done. This is a most important branch of the manufacture, and, though apparently the rough part ouly, by comparison, is capable of the highest degree of at- tention. From the finishing and japanning rooms of the first floor we go to those of the second, where all the small parts of the machine are made. There is a nicety of workmanship neces- sary here, that must be seeu to be understood. Every part of this beautiful machine must be accurate as those of a watch ; and to see that this end is reached, and no machine goes from the factory without this accuracy and finish, is the especial labor of the company. Every oue of these many parts, upon being finished, goes to the Assembly-room upon the third floor, where it is put together and set running by power. It runs for one or two days, until the fact of its workmanship is made satisfactory and all is smooth, after which it is removed to the Adjusting-room, on the same floor. In this loom it is tried in every way upou both cotton and silk, from No. 12 to No. 2u0, and if found to work with accuracy and decision, is re- moved to the Iiispecting-rooiu. Hera it undergoes another thorough examination in all its parts, and if finally pronounced lit ami a perfect machine, it is lowered to the first floor and there receives its table. These tables are made of different material — walnut, mahog- any or rosewood, according to the taste of those who will be- come the owners, and arc not made in the main building, but form a separate manufacture in another place. We have here endeavored to give a clear and unvarnished account of what we must term a wonderful machine. That it has been appreciated quietly by the public is manifest from the steady increase in its sales. It has not been forced on the public, but has worked its own way. It is not a cheap ma- chine in the common acceptation of the word, but it is >>till a cheap machine in fact. The cheapest of the Florence Ma- chines costs SG3, while the enme grade of other first class machines costs 855 ; but at the same time, the Florence Ma- chine charges nothing for all the extras, while the others do. This is the secret of its cheapness, to say nothing of its capa- bility to do work of every kind. We are not disposed in this summary to over-commend anything placed before the public for its suffrage, but when we know au article to be good, we think we are only doing our duty as public journalists to Bay so emphatically.— Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper. Choick J'KorKKTv at Auction. — John Middletpn Pon will cell, on Monday next, tlmt beautiful Moi k of properly, which luisbnn subdivided into building lote, belonging to the estate of the lute Dr. H. M. Gray, and lying between Minion, Ilowuid, Eleventh and La- fayette streets. This property is beautifully sheltered by live oak shade trees, and lies adjacent to some of the most beautiful home- steads in the city. The streets bounding it arc ail graded, and the lots will be graded free of expense to the purchaser. The Howard street cars pass the property, and the Market streetcar* puss within a block of iu The sale will be peremptory, to BCtlle up the alhiirs of tbe estate. For terms see advertisement. May 26thJ THE CALIF ORN IAN 13 AGUA DE MAGNOLIA. A toilet delight. Superior to any cologne, used to bathe the face and person, to render the skin soft and fresh, to allay inflammation, to perfume clothing, for headache, etc. It is manufactured from the rich Southern Magnolia, and is obtaining a pat- ronage quite unprecedented. It is a favorite with actresses and opera singers. It is sold by all dealers, at $1.00 in large bottles, and by Demas Barnes & Co., New York, Wholesale Agents. Lyon's Magnetic Insect Powder will exter- minate Fleas, Ticks, Roaches and all insects almost instantly. Its reputation is well known, aud hence has been counterfeited. Inquire for and take none but Lvon's, bearing the stamp of Demas Barnes & Co., and the signature of E. Lyon. " Our op Sorts " expresses the feelings of many that cannot be otherwise described. Languor, weakness, enervation, listlessness, sleepiness, mel- ancholy, want of appetite, etc., compose a class of ailments greater than all others combined. It is ex- actly for these indescribable complaints that Plan- tation BlTTERs are prepared. It is for the relief of these same complaints they have become so fa- mous. Hence it is that tbey are so extensively used by clergymen, merchants, ladies, and persons of se- dentary habits. They are as pleasant to the taste as they are beneficial to the Stomach. The extent of their sale is almost incredible. • Intrinsic virtue alone could ever insure the success met by the Mexican Mustang Liniment. For Rheumatism., Neuralgia, Cuts, Bruises, Barns, Swelling's, etc., upon man, or Spavin, Ringbone, Poll Evil, Scratches, Strains, etc., upon beasts, its effects are instantaneous, soothing and wonderful. Itsavcs time, suffering and expense to have it always in the house. None genuine unless in a steel plate label, with signature of G. W. Weslbrook, and hav^ ing .stamp ot Demas Baunes &. Co., over top. Sold by all dealers. Lj*on's Kathairon is a most delightful article as a Hair Dressing — to eradic:ite scurf and dandruff , to keep it clean, soft and silky, and the head cool. It also prevents the hair from falling off and tiuniug gray, aud promotes its growth upon pre maturely bald heads. It is sold by all dealers. E. THOMAS LYON, N. Y. Lyon's Extract of Purk Jamaica Ginger — for Indigestion, Nausea, Heartburn, Sick Headache, Cholera Morbus, Flatulency, etc., where a warming stimulant is required. Its careful preparation and entire pnrity make it a cheap and reliable article for culiuary purposes. Sold everywhere, at 50 cents per bottle. Ask for " Lyon's" Pure Extract. Take no other. c7m The Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York. — In regard to this company the " Wall Street Underwriter " say6 : "Figures are potent ar- guments to employ in dealing with the affairs of any Insurance Company. The Twenty-Third Annual Report of 'The Mutual,' made up to the first of February instant, is published in this paper, and the results manifested upon it are well worthy of consid- eration. In the first instance, as the prime result of the past year's work, the gross assets of ' The Mu- tual ' show an Increase of $2,549,871 02 Total increase in premium account is. . . 1,083,565 34 The total income of $3,853,005 80 is an increase of 1,003,199 24 The full disbursements for 1800, were.. 1,540,130 (33 Number of policies issued Feb. 1805 to Feb'. 1860, were 8,600 — insuring over double the number of 1864, and over double the amonnt, viz 31,394,407 00 All approving comment seems bald in the presence of the truly eloquent figures presented by the ' Mu- tual Life.' No record of success can be more com- plete for any financial institution in the world. Wherever Life Insurance has been heard of on the American Continent, the name and prestige of the great 'Mutual' of New York, stand out pre- eminent. Many successful modern companies have grown up to prosperity through the example aud influence of the ' Mutual Life.' Its great success, its wealth, and its manifest advantages have been constantly referred to as incontrovertible arguments in favor of Life Insurance. " "The Mutual Life" has paid losses on this coast (including dividends,) during the last four years, to the amount of $101,- 819 02, and among the recent losses to be paid are policies for $5,000 each, of Francis E. Webster and W. L. Haven, who were both killed by the nitro-glycerine explosion at the office of Wells, Fargo & -Co. , in addition to which amounts, there is to be paid about $1,200 lor accrued dividends. S. E. Examiner. * No Forfeiting — Heretofore, if a person holding a Life Policy became unfortunate, aud could not raise the sum of money required to pay his next pre- mium, his policy was declared forfeited. The Brooklyn Life Insurance Company of New York has decided to make every tolicy it issues NON-FORFEIT ABLE, giving a PAID-UP POLICY to the party if unable to coutiuue his payments of premiums. The dividends of the Brooklyn Life Insurance Company axe settled annu ally in cash. This plan is far more acceptable to insurers than at the end of three or five years, as in other companies. The Brooklyn Life Insurance Company allows thirty days grace in the payment of premiums. Its policies are incontestable, and its losses are promptly paid. The Brooklyn Life Insu ranee Company offers every known plan of Life and Endowment Insurance. Get a pamphlet at the office, 240 Montgomery street, southeast corner of Pine, from Stephen T. King, General Manager, or David B. Arrowsmith, Local Agent. MEDICAL ADVICE. Dr. Wm. K. Doherty's Medical and Surgical Institute is becoming a sine qua non to the welfare of our State and health of our citizens; and Bis rapidly spreading reputation, although it may excite surprise, is but the signal of skill, and follows as the natural effect of such a cause. We are personally acquainted with gentlemen who had suffered for years under chronic disease, and who had take n ad- vantage of every available means that promised relief, but without success, until they called upon Dr. Doherly, who, in an incredibly short space of lime, has given them entire relief. It is gratifying to announce this fact, because the Doctor is a gentle- man who seeks, not by defamation of others, to es- tablish his l eputation, or to rear the superstructure of his own upon the ruin of another's fame. The Doc- tor conducts his Institute in a manner that must be gratifying to all his patients. He examines, hears, advises, and recommends, without charge, and. the patient, after hearing has terms for treatment, can accept or reject at pleasure. In no case does the Doctor make a charge unless he effects a cure. This he. is able to do, because he feels the confidence which long experience has given, aud no doubt the cousolat ion which appertains to that confidence. Persons afflicted with either acute or chronic disease, would do well to consult the Doctor; at all events, it can do no harm, as for consultation he asks no fee ; nor does he insist on obedience to his advice unless the patient places himself under his care. His offices are on Sacramento street, opposite the Pacific Mail Steamship office. — &au Francisco News. Buggies and Carriages. — If you want a trim heat, light, and yet'durable style of buggy or car riage, go to Nos.. 37 aud 39 Webb street, between Sacramento and California, where yuu will find justl such a vehicle as will suit your taste. Poli.akd & Carvill not only deal in these articles, but manu- facture theiu to order, and do repairing, painting, trimming and biacksmithing with dispatch and neat uess. Go aud sec them. — California Leader. Wagons.,— Every species of wagons that any one can need, made of the best material, well fitted and finished, can be found at the Depot of Mills & Evans, 587 Market street, two doors from Second. Light, Express, Milk and Thoroughbraco wagons, also Lntnber Gears, Extra Poles and Whiffletrees, with Lead Bars, are kept constautly on hand. — Cali- fornia Leader. RHEUMATISM. Throughout this coast a great deal of suffering is experienced from Rheumatism. Weeks and even months of protracted and aggravated "misery is en- dured by the victims of medical inefficiency and ignorance, whicb could be cured just as speedily as was Mr. Sparrow, whose testimony is given below, and is only the echo of hundreds of other cases. Dr. Bourne cures without medicines, which accounts for his extraordinary success. No. 10 Masonic Temple, Post street entrance : San Francisco, September 6, 1861. Dr. Bourne : Last Winter I was nearly dead, by an attack of inflammatory rheumatism. 1 suffered the most excruciating pains for about five weeks, without auy hope of relief, when a friend, hearing of my illness, called to see me, aud assured me that if I would stop " drugging and dosing, ' aud go to you, that you would have me walking about the streets in three days. Sure enough, although I was utterly helpless, and conveyed to your house in a carriage, aud carried into it by three stout men, and was by them lifted into the bath, yet, on coming out of the bath I was able to largely assist myself, doing much toward dressing, and without assistance walked from the bath to the carriage. On the fourth day, I discharged my carriage and walked with a friend's aid the entire distance to your house (nearly a mile) and home again, aud so on until cured ; and I had not taken more than twelve baths when, all pain aui swelling having ceased, I felt myself a well man. And now I am happy to do this little service of publicly certifying to the simple truth, leaving it to do its own work among such of my friends aud acquaintances as may chance to 6ee this. Your friend. Joseph Sparrow. A SUMMER AND WINTER MEDICINE. " Great oaks from little acorns grow." The worst diseases known to the human race spring from causes so small as to almost defy detec- tion. The volumes of scientific lore that fill the tables aud shelves of the medical fraternity only go to prove and elaborate these facts. Then guard yourselves while yon may. The smallest pimple on the skin is a tell-tale and indica- tor of disease. It may fade aud die away from the surface of the body, but it will reach the vit lis, per- haps, at last, and death be the result and final close. Maggiel's Bilious, Dyspeptic and Dtarrhaa Pills cure where all others fail. While for Burns, Scalds, Chilblains, Culs, and all abrasions of the skin, Mag- giel's tialve is infallible. Sold by J. Maggiel, 43 Fulton street, New York, aud all Druggists, at 25 cents per box. For the best finished, fashionable hats, go to McGanu & Co.'s, Hatters, C51 Washington street, two doors below the Plaaa. Wanted — Agents to sell, by subscription only the most popular work ever written : " GRANT AND SHERMAN; their Campaigns and Generals." By the world renowned historian, Hon. J. T. Headley, author of Washington and tils CiciatraLs , Sacred Mountains, etc. Agents are taking as high as thirty subscribers per day, and all agree in pronouncing it the most saleable work they ever took hold of. The people want Headley's illustrated " GRANT AND SHERMAN," etc. For terms and territory , address E. E. Shear, No. 8 Montgomery Street, and Box 1,430, San Francisco, California Concord Wagons and Harness. — The Pacific Concord Carriage Manufactory is prepared to supply the Pacific Coast with Concord wagons and harness made to order. The members comprising this lirui have long been in the employ of the celebrated manufacturing house of L. Downing & Son, Con- cord, New Hampshire ; so that parties wishing Con- cord wagons or harness can obtain just the same quality of article here and save 25 per cent, on their purchase money. We have seen some of their workmanship, aud can recommend it to the public Address Belduke &. Co., 820 Kolsom street, between Fourth and Fifth. — San Francisco Leader. Dainty Work.— About the daintiest work we ever saw were specimens of hair jewelry at the es- tablishment of Mrs. C. Cook, 645 Clay street, between Montgomery and Kearny streets, yesterday. This lady manufactures all sorts of jewelry — watch-chains, earrings, finger rings, breastpins, aud various other kinds of ornaments — from human bair. We wit nessed the process of manufacture, and it is intricate and ingenious in the highest degree. — 8. F. Exam- iner. fpo FARMERS, MINERS, LABORERS And all those wishing to secure themselves a portion of THE MOST VALUABLE AGRICULTURAL AND MIN- ERAL LANDS OF MEXICO, With an equal interest in the Profits of the Plantations of THE MEXICAN SEA ISLAND COTTON COMPANY. HOMES FOR THE POOR AND COMPETENCY FOR ALL. SPECIAL NOTICE. The Mexican Sea Island Cotton Company, having reserved from their final Subscription List a Limited Number of Unassessable Shares, (the remaining shares of the Company having been taken up by the stockholders,) hereby offer the same for sale at the original subscription price of Sixteen Dollars each, payable in caBn. Every holder of a share will be entitled to a portion of the Company's lands, having the privilege to settle thereon aud participate in all the advantages and profits of the enterprise, and special privileges granted to this Company by an Imperial Decree of Maximilian, dated 9th January, 1866, without being subjected to the conditions of regular Government emigrants, this Company set- tling upon their own lands, secured by private pur- chase, and held under indisputable Spanish titles. Shareholders becoming actual settlers will also have the privilege of any employment upon the Com- pany's plantation. Portions of land will be allotted to settlers, to be held by them until a final division makes it their property. For the purpose of increasing the value of the Company's land, and to create all the comforts of a home and society, it is the inteniion of the company to form a regular settlement aud to lay out a town adjoining their present plantation into building lots, which will likewise be fairly divided between the 8,000 shares which comprise the total number of the company. A large number of shareholders will settle upon the couipany's lands after the rainy season in Octo- ber next. Many of them may then be employed by the company, or by others able to plant for them- selves, or iii developing the mineral resources of the adjoining mountains, etc., etc. Men of all trades and professions, desiring to emi- grate to Mexico, will have great advaniages as shareholders of this company. Tbey will find the lands already purchased for them at a rate equivalent to a free gift, to be held by each shareholder as his property, protected by the best Spanish titles, and the good will of all political parties now contending for the reins of government ; the climate the most salubrious, and the land rich and fertile beyond de- scription ; every kind of game abounding ; the rivers full of fish aud with extensive beds of large oysters ; altogether, a country where it is easy to procure a livelihood and the comforts of a home with less labor and less capital than in any other part of the For Maps and Survey, and further information, apply at the office of the MEXICAN SEA ISLAND COTTON CO., Betge's Book Store, Russ House, Montgomery street, between the hours of 11 and 1 o'clock. | § - All the assessable stock having been taken up by mutual subscription of stockholders, the com- pany will have no more shares to offer after the limited number of unassessable shares have been placed, and shall prefer to sell these to actual settlers — a cmglt ubureof whuli will be cufhcient to entitle them to a large portion of the lauds. We, the undersigned shareholders in the Mex- ican Sea Island Cotton Company, having investiga- ted anil satisfien ourselves of the importance of the enterprise, recommend the same to the public. Wo are convinced that under the management of the present officers of the company, with their efforts to induce industrious parties to locate upon the laud, that the enterprise must become very profitable to all parties interested, and most beneficial to actual gettlers. S. R. Kettlewell. Blacksmith, 264 First stieet. W. C. Mead & Son, 224 Sansome street. M. O'Neil, Proprietor Ne.w Branch Hotel, 12 Sutter street. Winall & Clapp, 5115 Market street. R. A. S. Repitou, M,D.,816 Montgomery street. Wm. Rudolph, Gunsmith, 216 Pacific street. G. Burkhurdt, Jeweller, No. 209 Pacilic street. E. Keil, East India Tea Co., 631 Washington-st. P. D. O'Regan, People's Bakery , corner Fourth and Jessie streets. Wm. Meyer, Provision Dealer, 258 Third street. John Diiif, Painter and Paper Hanger, 642 Clay street. A. E. Mylott, Importer and Dealer in Cigars and Tobacco, 305 Battery street M. M. Baldwin, Jeweller, 433 Montgomery-st. S. Bayseu, Hatter, No. 346 Kearny street. Mathew McCloskey, 644 Howard street, Sau Francisco. March 2Uih, 1866. mar24 1m gREWSTER & CO.'S Carriage Manufactory, 372 Broome sleet, New York. We desire to announce to our California friends that we have made extensive arrangements by increasing our works fur the coming season, aud with a view to SUPPLYING THE WANTS OF CALIFORNIA, will mauulacture a style of work particularly adapicd to city and country use, aud in view of the destructive ef- fects uf city railroads on all light work, will give PARTICULAR ATTENTION to remedying the evil, aud guard agauist it in work shipped tu California. CARRIAGES, BUGGIES, PHAETONS, COUPES^ aud Vehicles of every description, of our own rnanufac ture, ou hand aud made to order. Orders or communicatiuus should be addressed to - " BREWSTER i: CO., ■» Of Broome street, The firm of Brewster & Baldwin uot being in any way connected with BREWSTER & CO., Of No. 372, Broome street, JJALL'S SARSAPARILLA, YELLOW DOCK AND IODIDE POTASS, O ■■ >ii :.«nu o . i J ni '. nJ'.istHfr.idr iliiw ■jbiini aiuii'f Best Blood Purifier Known. Persons that are troubled with Rheumatism, Scrofula, Neuralgia, Morbid Liver, Salt Rheum, Pimples, Boils, or any of the many diseases that onginato from Impure Blood, would find it much to their advantage to givo this justly celebrated article a trial. One or two bottles are quite sufficient to convince tho most skeptical of its merits. It contains neither Spirit, ARSENIC nor MERCURY which cannot be truly said of any other prepa- tion called " Sarsaparilla." SHEPARDSON & GATES, Proprietors, ap7-3in N. W. cor. Sansome and Commercial-streets 14 THE CALIFORNIAN. [May 26th HATES OF POSTAGE. Valuable letters may be registered on application at the office of mailing, and the payment of 520 cents registration fee. Transient newspapers, periodicals, blanks, proof- Bheets, book manuscripts, pamphlets, and all mail able printed matter, except circulars and books, 2 cents for each and every 4 ounces. Double tlie9e rates are charged for books. Seeds, cuttings, roots, etc., 2 cents for each 4 ounces or less quantity. All packages of mail matter not charged with let- ter postage must be so arranged that the same can be conveniently examined by Postmasters ; if not, letter postage will be charged. Unsealed circulars, to one address, not exceeding three in number, i! cents, and in the same proportion for a greater number. No package will be forwarded by mail which weighs over 4 pounds. All postage matter, for delivery within the United States, must be prepaid by stamps (except duly certi- fied letters of soldiers aud sailors ;) otherwise, double the above rates will be charged on delivery. Weekly newspapers (one copy only) sent to actual subscribers withiu the county where printed and published, free. Letters to Canada and other British North Amer icau Provinces, when not over 3,000 miles, 10 cents for each } ounce. When over 3,000 miles, 15 cents. Prepayment optional. Letters to Great Britain or Ireland, 24 cents. Pre- payment optional. AWARDED the HIGHEST PREMIUM AT THE State Fair of California, The only Fair on the Paciflc coast at wticn auy two double-thread Machines were exhibited in competition In 1865. If there is a FLORENCE SEWING MA- cliine within one thousand miles of this office that is not working well, it will be attended to if I am informed of it, without expense to the owner. SAMUEL HILL, General Agent, 111 Montgomery street, San Francisco. THE FLORENCE S E W I N G . MACHINE RECEIVED THE FIRST PREMIUM, A GOLD MEDAL, at the Great Exhibition of the AMERICAN INSTUTE, - - - New York, 1 8 6 5 . myl03m F ARRAND'S OSCILLATING Amalgamator THIS UNRIVALLED IMPROVEMENT FOR THE RE- ductiouaud amalgamation of Gold and Silver Ores, is now running daily at No. 206 Commercial street, between Front and Davis. THIS AMALGAMATOR INVOLVES NO COMPLICATED MACHINERY And possesses the following advantages over all there now in n.-c : 1st It is capable of doing double the am >unt of work of the ordinary Pans, at a saving of more than one-half the power. '2d. It reduces the pulp finer, thereby prodaciug a better result. 3d. It requires less quicksilver by one-half at a charge, whilst the loss by trituration is comparatively nothing. 4th. As an Amalgamator for gold contained in sul- phurets, as also for very.tiue or Hour gold it has no equal. 5th. This Amalgamator involves no complicated machinery, and is less liable to get out of order than any of the pans. Trials made with this machine in the presence of experts, during the last six months, have been pro- nouueeil liighly satisfactory. It ie peculiarly well adapted to employment by small mining Operators in distant localities, as it can readily he taken to pieces aud packed upon mules. A large size machine is constructed without dies or ninllers, but simply wit', arms to act as stirrers, to be used in connection with several of the Amalga- mators as a If Separator," as it is found thai the pecu- liar motion given to these arms, in connection with the concave shape of the body of the machine, ion ders it most effectual for such a purpose. The peculiar construction of this superior machine adnata of its being Worked with a much Hinallei charge of quick ilver, to any given amount of pul| than the flat bottomed Pans. The spiral springs greatly assist in the work of redact. on, by allowing the free admission of the pulp between the mailers and dies, so that, the pulp is made to actually work upon itself — as the (lust of the diamond is made to reduce the gem itself. W. D. FA Kit AND THIS LADY ENJOYS THE PURE AND Delicious Tea Bought AT THE STORE OF MESSRS. HASKELL St CO. THIS LADY BUYS TEA FROM THE "Corner Grocery" AND THE CHINESE PEDLARS. HASKELL'S TEA STORE FRONTS ON 514 MARKET-ST., AND 15 SUTTER ST., Two doors below tho Market House. apl4 8m T HE LIGHT OF THE "WORLD. DR. MAGGIEL'S -Pills and SalY e. OWMAN & CO., Dealers m Stores and Tin Ware, •.. .j.iv.u Main street, Pctaluma. These Life-giving remedies are now, for the first time, given publicly to the world. " For over a quar- ter of a century of private practice the ingredients in ""^LIFE-GIVING PILLS! Have been used with the greatest success. Their mission is not onlv to prevent disease, but to cure. They search out the various maladies by which the patient is suffering, aud re-iuvigorate the failing sys- tem. To the aged and intirm a few doses of these valuable PILLS will prove to be A VERY FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH, For in every case they add new life and vitality, and restore the waning energies to their pristine stnte. To the young and middle aged, they will prove most invaluable, as a ready, specilic, and sterling medicine. »Here is a dream realized, that Ponce-de-Leon sought for three hundred years ago, and never found. He looked for a fountain that would restore the old to vigor and make youth ever AN ETERNAL SPRING ! It was left for this day and hour to realize tho dream, and show in one glorious fact, the magic that made it fair. THESE FAMOUS REMEDIES Cannot stay the flight of years, but they can force back, and hold aioof, diseases that might triumph over the aged aud the youug. Let none hesitate then, but seize the favorable opportunity that offers. When taken as prescribed — FOR BILLIOUS DISORDERS Nothing can be more productive of cure than these Pills. Their almost magic influence is felt at once ; and the usual concomitants of this most distressing disease are removed. These remedies are made from the purest VEGETABLE COMPOUNDS. They will not harm the most delicate female, and can be given with good effect in prescribed doses to the youngest babe. FOR CUTANEOUS DISORDERS And all eruptions of the Bkin, the SALVE is most invaluable. It does not heal externally alone, but penetrates witn the most searching effects to the very root of the evil ! Dr. Maggiel's Pills Invariably cure Ike following diseases : Asthma, Bowel Complaints, CoughB, Colds, Chest Diseases, Cosliveness, Dyspepsia, Dial rluca, Dropsy, Debility, Female Complaints, Fever and Ague Headache, Indigestion, Iuflueii/.a, Inflammation. Inward Weakness, Liver Complaint. Lowuess of Spirits, Ringworm, Rheumatism, Salt Rheum, Scalds, Skiu Diseases. Notice. — None genuine without the engraved trade-mark around each not or box, signed by Dr. J. Maggie), 13 Fulton st., New York, to counterfeit which is felony. ISPSold by all respectable Dealers in Medicines throughout the United States— at 25 cents per box or pot-, apll-ly STOCKDaLE HOUSE, Corner Mam and Oak streets, Petaluma. mar24 Cm ' H STOCKDAI E, """prictor. T PEIRCE, * FURNITURE AND Bedding Warerooms. Nos. 415, 417, and 419 California Street, NEAR MONTGOMERY. THIS STOCK OF FURNITURE, etc., was selected with great care, and special attention Riven to the wants of this market, ENTIRELY AT THE EAST. It is NOT COMPOSED OF REFUSE GOODS, ODDS AND ENDS OF OI'HEK HOUSES that have lately closed out here, but CONSISTS ENTIRELY OF NEW GOODS, made alter the latest patterns and in the most durable manner. The present sinLk is fully TWICE as large as that of any other house here. Parlies having any doubts of tins, or that the assort ment is net superior to any iu the city, can easily satisfy themselves by calling. The slock of Case Goods is larger than over before. J. PF.IKCE, Ware-rooms 415, 417 and 419 I'alilornia street dcl6-3m SAN FRANCISCO. A CARD. M. Howard's Hair Restorative, NO. 315 MONTGOMERY STREET, SAN FRANCISCO. THE ABOVE PREPARATION, which has been recently discovered and patented, is purely a Vegetable Extract The undersigned are fully aware of the many unsatis- factory and useless preparations for restoring naff that have been introduced to the pontic, and how little confi- dence is to be placed in any pretensions to restoring tho hair to bald heads, but, HAVING TRIED MR. HOWARD'S PREPARATION, we arc ablo to state Ibat it not only prevents the Hair from falling out, but absolutely reproduces II, and that we now have good suits of Hair growing where we wee entirely bald. Therefore, as a matter of justice to Mr. Howard, and of consolation to bald heads, we leuder him this testimonial Mr H. keeps the article for sale iu bottles, with directions fur its usu. or applies it himself, as may be desired. ... - San Francisco, April 6,1S6G. Frank M. Thayer, R. A- Redman, W. S Davis, J. O. Rountree, T. A lla!l, G. VV. Gamble, A. C. Knox. J. YV. Miller, Bradburv Sanborn, E. C. McCouib, George Wells, D. C. Ross, Joseph Wells, ap7 fj^ RODGERS JOHNSON, ODD FELLOWS' HALL,32» Montgomery str»et, dc30 3m San Francisco. J^ATHANIEL GRAY, UNDERTAKER, Cirr AND COUNTY SEXTON, 641 Sacramento strket, Corner or Webb ■ole agents for BARSTOW'S PATENT METALLIC j BURIAL CASES and CASKETS. Edward Bosoui & Co., Printers, And Blank Book Manufacturers, 517 CLAY STREET, Between Montgomery and Sansome Sts., San Francisco. AMERICAN HOTEL, Main Btnet. . - - Petaluma. I war24. Oui EMERSON ii LAMBERTON, Proprietors. pRANKLIN PRINTING OFFICE, 009 CLAY STREET, (near Santomc,) SAN FRANCISCO, " Tlio oldest and most complete Book and Job printing establishment iu California. All descriptions of work neatly executed at low rales." jaMf FRANK EASTMAN, Proprietor. 11. Mcdonald & co., WHOLESALE DRUGGISTS, IMPORTERS OF Chemicals, Herbs, Drugs, PATENT MEDICINKS, PAINTS, VARNISHES, ACIDS, DTE STUFFS, OILS * PERFUMERIES, PI I toilet.:articlks, 1 DRUSriES.] We are just receiving, dircclj'frnm Spain, a completo assortment of CORKS! CORKS! CORKS wArh we offer at lower prices than usual Dusting, Paint, Var.nirh, Siioe, Scrub, Hair and Tooth Brushes : We have a splendid slock, which we olfer at exticmcly low prices, HERBS. We have received, direct from the Shakers, all kinds of fresh Herbs, aud intend to keep every article used of this description. Tilden's Solid and Fluid Extracts, Pills, and Concentrated Preparations. We have on band, and shall keep a full assortment of the above celebrated preparations, which we oiler to tho trade at such prices as will defy competition. FLAVORING EXTRACTS. A great variety, not to be equalled in the market as to quality and pneo. Parties about purchasing would do well lo give us a oal I and ^examine prices and goods before purchasing else- where. PLAIN GUM TEETH. We have the largest assortment of any house on tho Pacillc co st. GOLD FOIL. We are manufacturing Foil which we can recommend to the profession as being a suiierior article. We also bavo on baud a full assortment, of all the various makers VULCANIJ5ERS, DENTAL CHAIRS AND LAT1IKS, FILES, . bii -J VULCANITE AND GUTTA PERi HA, FORCF.PS, BURRS, DRILLS AND EXCAVATORS, mirrors, etc. We have, besides the above, everv article used by tho Dentist, aud are daily in receipt of idl the new IUV.11I10US in use. Dentists will find it to their interest to rail and examine our slock and prices before purchasing clsew here. R. H. McDonald & Co., CORNER SANSOME AND PINE STREETS, SAN FRANCISCO. J STREET SACRAMENTO. »p-:S 3m May 26thJ THE C ALI F0RN1AN 15 DISTANCES FROM SAN FRANCISCO | To various points : To Fort Point, 4 miles, by omnibus, four trips a day. Lone Mountain, 3, street railway. Seal Rock, 6, cars and omnibus, two trips a day. Mission Dolores, street railways; Ocean House 8. San Mateo, 20, railroad. Crystal Springs, 23, railroad and stage fralf-Moou Bay, 29, do. do. Redwood city ,"30, do. Mountain View, 38, do. Santa Clara, 47, do. San Jose, 50, do.,orsteamerandstage,54. Alviso, 46, steamer, daily. Alinaden mines, 07, steamer and stage ; or by rail- road and stage, 64. Santa Cruz, 78, railroad and stage. Oakland, 8, steamer and railroad, six trips a day. Alameda, 11, steamer, tbree trips a day. San Leandro, 15, steamer and railroad. Mission San Jose, 34, steamer, railroad and stage. Warm Springs, 37, do. do. Beuicia, 30, steamer leaves at 4 P. M. daily. Sacramento, 117, do. do. Stockton, 117, do. do. Martinez, 33, do. Paclieco, 38, steamer and stage. Diablo Coal Mines, 44, steamer and stage. Suisun, 50, steamer, or 54 by steamer and stage Vallejo, 28; Mare Island, 37 ; Napa city, 50 White Sulphur Springs, 67, stage from Napa. Geyser Springs, 118, do. do. Sonoma, 52, steamer, tri-weekly. Petaluma, 48, steamer, daily. Healdsburg, 80, stage daily from Petaluma San Quentiu, 12, steamer ; Faralloue Islands, 20. JZJROOKLYN HOTEL, 1852. SAN FRANCISCO. 1866. Tbe Proprietor of the above-named Hotel -wishes to inform his patrons and tbe Travelling Public that he has opened that elegant Brick Fireproof Hotel, situated on the S. E. Corner of Pine and Sansome streets, SAN FRANCISCO. It was built expressly for a Hotel, with all the moder» conveniences attached to it. Gas and water are supplied throughout the House. Rooms* are well ventilated, and the Public will Audi Hotel all the comforts of a home. The Hotel is spacious, and well adapted for the use of Families. Suits of Rooms cau be had on reasonable terms. LARGE READING ROOM Attached to the Hotel, Containing 500 Volumes of Standard Works, Which is entirely for the use of patrons. THE C1TV COACH, with the namo of the Hotel on it, will be in readiness at the Wharf, on the arrival of each steamer, to couvey passengers and baggage to the Hofel, free of charge. JO ' N KELLY, Jr. , lc6 3m Proprietor. rjIHE PACIFIC INSURANCE COMPANY, HAVING ADDED MARINE INSURANCE TO THEIR BUSINESS, ARE NOW PREPARED TO ISS0E POLICIES ON Marine, Inland Navigation, and Fire Risks, ON THE MOST FAVORABLE TERMS. Office, 436 California street. J. HUNT, President A. J. RALSTON, Secretary. fe5 3m M ARKET STREET RAILROAD CHANGE OF TIME TABLE. ON AND AFTER AUGUST 1, 1865, Trains will start rom the City and the Mission every hour- instead of every forty minutes, as heretofore. Trains from the City will start at the odd hour, com- mencing at 6:30 A. H. and every hour thereafter uutil 11:30 P. Mi mh25 F. McCOi>PIN, Superintendent. ^YYIIO WANTS Profitable Employment OR PAYING INVESTMENTS ? PARTIES desirous of getting into OLD-ESTABLISHED BUSINESS CONCERNS, either as Partners or Sole Propri- etors in Mercantile, Manufacturing, Trading, or any kind of business iu city or oounfry,cau do so by applying at my ofTice. Men desiring profitable situations in business houses with MONEY TO LOAN on satisfactory security, cau se- cunrsucu appointments. Partnerships negotiated, where large or small capital is required. Business Interests sold quickly for cash. Real Estate bought and sold. Help furnished for all kinds of employment. Situations obtained for parties desiring employment. S. P. WHITMAN, Property, General Agencv, ami Business House, 813 Montgomery slrctt, San Francisco. murl7-3ia ^LLEN'S LUNG BALSAM! A CERTAIN CURE FOR COUGHS, COLDS, INFLUENZA, NIGHT SWEATS, BRONCHITIS, SPITTING OF BLOOD, ASTHMA, WHOOPING COUGH, C ONS UMP TION, And all Diseases of the . ,J CHEST AND LUNGS! This celebrated Congh Remedy effects a Bpeedy cure by producing a free and easy expectoration, heals abscesses of the lungs, prevents unhealthy se- cretion of the bronchial tubes, and removes from them those accumulations of morbid matter which cause oppression of the breast, difficulty of breath- ing, etc , soothes irritation of the respiratory organs which produces cough PRICE ONE DOLLAR PER BOTTLE. Sold by all Druggists. HOSTETTER, SMITH & DEAN, Agents, 401 Battery corner of Clay, ja27-3m San Francisco. Y)R. HUMPHREYS' Homoeopathic Specifics Have proved, from the most ample experience, an entire success — simple, prompt, efficient and reliable. They are the only Medicines perfectly adapted to popular use — so simple that mistakes cannot be made iu using them ; so harmless as to be free from dan- ger, and so efficient as to be always reliable. They have received the highest commendation from all, and will always render satisfaction. No. 1 cures Fevers, Congestion, lntiammations.0 25 " 2 cures Worms, Worm Fever, Worm Colic, 25 " 3 cures Crying Colic, or Teething of in- " 4 cures Diarrhoea of children or adults... 25 fants 25 " 5 cures Dysentery, Griping, Bilious Colic, 25 " 6 cures Cholera Morbus, Nausea, Vomiting, 25 " 7 cures Coughs, Colds, Bronchitis 25 " 8 cures Neuralgia, Toothache, Faceache. 25 " 9 cures Headuclws, sick-Headache, Vertigo, 25 " 10 cures Dyspepsia, Billions Stomach 25 " 11 cures Suppressed, or Painful Periods-- 25 " 13 cures Croup, Cough, difficult Breathing, 25 " 14 cures Halt Rheum, Erysipelas Eruptions, 25 " 15 cures Rheumatism, Rheumatic Pains... 25 •' 16 cures Fever and Ague, Chill Fever, Agues 50 " 17 cures Piles, blind or bleeding 50 " 18 cures Opthalmia, andSoreor Weak Eyes, 50 " 19 cures Catarrh, acute or chronic, Influenza 50 " 20 cures Whooping-Cough, violent coughs. 50 " 21 cures Asthma, oppressed Breathing 50 " 22 cures Ear Discharges, impaired Hearing 50 " 23 cures Scrofula, Enlarged Glands, Swell- ings 50 " 24 cures General Debility, Physical Weak- ness 50 " 25 cures Dropsy, and scanty Secretions 50 u 26cures Sea-Sickness, sieknesst'vom Riding, 50 " 27 cures Kidney Disease, Gravel 50 " 29 cures Sore Mouth, Canker 50 " 31 cures Painful Periods, even with Spasms 50 " 32 cures Sujerings at change of life $1.00 •' 33 cures Epilepsy, Spasms, St. Vitus' Dante. 1.00 " 34 cures Diphtheria, Ulcerated Sore Throat, 50 FAMILY CASES. 35 vials, morocco case, and book $10 00 28 vials, morocco case, and book 8 00 20 vials, morocco case, and book 6 00 These Remedies, by the ease or single box, are sent to any part of the country, by Mail or Express, on receipt of the price. • - HOSTETTER, SMITH & DEAN, 401 and 403 Battery street, corner of Clay, ja27-3m San Francisco BEAUTIFUL COMPLEXION ! Secret of Beauty ! USE GEO. W. LAIRD'S BLOOM OF YOUTH, See that the name, GEO. W. LAIRD, is stamped ON THE BOTTLE. No other is Genuine. LIQUID PEARL! The best article in the world for Preserring and Beautifying the Complexion and Skin. This magnificent Toilet Article is prepared only by GEO. W. LAIRD, 74 Fulton street, New York, formerly 483 Broadway. Sold by Druggists everywhere. 'HOSTETTER, SMITH <fe DEAN, 401 and 403 Battery street, comer of Clay, ap27-3in Sau Francisco. BOOK AND STATIONERY STORE. THE UNDERSIGNED DESIRE TO INFORM THE PUBLIC that they have opened a School Book and Stationery STORE, At 691 Market, Corner Third, " NUCLEUS " BUILDING, With a complete assortment of everything pertain ing to a first class establishment. HaviDg unsurpassed facilities for obtaining all our stock, direct from the Publishers and Manufacturers, on the most favorable terms, we feel confident of giving satistisfaction to all who may favor us with their patronage. In addition to our large stock of the above goods, we shall keep constantly on hand a complete assortment of BIBLES, PRAYER BOOKS, BLANK BOOKS, PHOTOGRAPH ALBUMS, PORTFOLIOS, WRITING DESKS, SCRAP BOOKS, JUVENILE BOOKS, CHILDREN'S TOY BOOKS, CARDS, BLOCKS, and GAMES. Especial attention given to Ladies' Stationery, embracing all the varieties of Note, Letter Paper, and Envelopes, all which we stamp with purchaser's INITIALS, in colors or plain. Wedding and Visiting Cards engraved, written, or printed in the latest style and at the lowest rates. Monograms of all kinds cut to order. A liberal discount made to Teachers and the Trade. TYLER BROS , No. 632 WASHINGTON STREET, G91 MARKET STREET, CORNER TniRI) say 12- 3m rpHE CALIFORNIAN. TERMS — FIVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. A PAPER FOR THE TIMES DEVOTED TO LIVE TOPICS, THE DISSEMINATION OF A PURE LITERA TURE, DEVELOPMENT OF HOME TALENT, AND THE BEST INTERESTS OF CALIFORNIA. Published EVERY SATURDAY MORNING AT 532 MERCHANT STREET, BY THE CALIFORNIAN PUBLISHING COMPANY. A. A. ST1CKNEY, J. P. BOGARDUS, W. 3, BINGHAM, C. B. WEBB No effort will be spared to enable The Caiifobnian to appeal to the Public for support, not only as the BEST JOURNAL ON THE PACIFIC COAST, But also as being The Equal of any on this Continent THE BEST TALENT OF THE STATE Is employed upon The Caufobnian. The voluntary notices bestowed by the preaa of tb« Eastern cities have been no less warm and con- gratulatory than those which we have received the hands of our cotemporaries of the Pacifi Their verdict is unanimously iu favor of THE CALIFORNIAN and all join in pronouncing their unqualified appro val of its unequalled merits. Its reputation is now fully established. It is not EXCELLED BY ANY LITERARY JOURNAL on the Continent The Teems of the Caufobniav are {5 per year, mailed to subscribers, invariably in advance ; 50 cents per month served by carriers. Alt communications and corres|.ondence must bo ad- iresscd to the Publishers of Tim! Camfobman, No 53£ Merchan street SAN FRANCISCO QPPOSITION STEAMER-DAT, FRIDAY, JUNE 15, 1866. GREAT REDUCTION IN RATES, VIA NICARAGUA I THE CENTRAL AMERICAN TRANSIT COMPANY will despatch the favorite Steamship MOSES TAYLOR, On Friday, ... June 15tb, From Mission street Wharf, at 10 o'clock, A. M., precisely. Connecting at GREYTOWN with the splendid Steamship SANTIAGO, J.500 Tons, fob New Yobk. KS~ For Passage and Freight, and Insurance on Treas- ure, at greatly REDUCED RATES, apply to I. W. RAYMOND, Agent, Northwest corner Battery and Pine stroeUj Up stairs, San Francisoo, 16 THE CALIFORNIAN. | May 26th jyjAGUIRE'S OPERA HOUSE. T. MAGUIRE PnorarBTOB. C. L. GRAVES Stack Maxaoeb- W. STEVENaON Tbeasibkb. .SATURDAY AFTERNOON AND EVENING, May 26, 18C6. TRICES OF ADMISSION: Dress Circle and Orchestra, $1 00 Parquet, ......... 50 Upper Circle, 25 Mr. John McCullough, SUPPORTED BY THE LEGITIMATE COMPANY, will appear iu tue play enlilloU THE DEAD HEART. ^ NEXT WEEK: EDWIN FORREST WILL PLAY TIRGINIUS, - Monday RICHELIEU, Tuesday DAMON, "Wednesday KING LEAR, - Thursday MACBETH, Friday Reserved Seats $1 50 Dress Circle and Parquet 1 00 Upper Circle '. 50 "^"ATURE UNVEILED, AT THE PACIFIC MUSEUM OF ANATOMY AND SCIENCE Eureka Theatre, Montgomery street, ja27-tf between California and Pine. TVT ONDERS OF WONDERS ! TO SE SEEN ONLY AT THE Pacific Museum of Anatomy and Science, Eureka Theatre, Montgomery street, j»27tf between California and Pine. 0 W PRICES IN Gents' Furnishing Goods, WARD'S SHIRT STORES, 323 MONTGOMERY STREET, AND CORNER OF MARKET AND THIRD STREETS, SAN FRANCISCO. P. S. — Printed directions for self-measurement for Shirts and Price Lists of Goods sent free by mail. up21 3m s PRING MEDICINE. PURIFY THE BLOOD! ASD Constitution, wmi LE DOYEN'S SARSAPARILLA, YELLOW DOCK, IODINE ALTERATIVE .CRANE At LSRIGITAM, Agents, rnyl9 lm SAN FRANCISCO rpiIE BANK OF CALIFORNIA, 5/1 iV"' FllAXClSCO, May 9, 1866 NOTICE. At a meeting of the Stockholders of this Bank, held on the 5th iust., it was resolved to increase the Capital Stock of the corporation to $5,000,000, gold, to take effect ou THE FIRST DAY OF JULY NEXT, and the President and Cashier were authorized to receive subscriptions for $2,000,000 of said capital stock. Parties desirous of subscribing will rr.akc application at the Bank, either personally or by letter, when further details will be given. D. 0. MILLS, President. my20 lm W. C. RALSTON, Cashior. c A R P E T S JOHN MIDDLETON & SON, REAL ESTATE, STOCK AND GENERAL Auctioneers. Office tnd Salesroom. 404 Montgomery street, ono door from Northeast corner California and Montgomery. Regular Real Estate Auction Sale Day, Monday. W. W. LAWTON Not art Public LARGE AND IMPORTANT SALE OF BUSINESS AND HOMESTEAD LOTS AT AUCTION. MONDAY, May 28, 18C6, at 12 o'clock, Mission Block No. Eleven, BELONGING TO THE ESTATE OF THE LATE DR. II. M. GRAY. Positive and Peremptory Sale of one of the most teantiiul blocks of laud iu the city, frontiug on MISSION, HOWARD, ELEVENTH, NATOMA, MINNA, and LAFAYETTE STS., SUBDIVIDED INTO 67 BUILDING LOTS. On the above date, at our Salesroom, we will sell, on easy terms, the lot of land known ae Mission Block, Number Eleven, and fronting on Mission. Howard, and Eleventh streets, and Lafayette Avo- nue, and intersected by Minim and Natoma streets. The Block is subdivided into sixty-sevcu Building Lota. , 1 , 1 1 1 , • v v r • . < i i . \ The Property is covered with large and handsome native Oak Trees, and presents rare inducements to purchasers desirons of purchasing large Lots for Homestead purposes. Each Lot will be graded ; also Layfayette street and Eleventh street, thus 6aving all expense to purchasers. The Howard Street Cars pass the Lots every few minutes, and the Market Street Cars pass within one block of it Mission street is graded, macadamized and side walked to Eleventh street. Diagrams, showing the Subdivision of the Prop- erty, will he found on the Lots, and small diagrams for distribution are ready at the Office of the Auc- tioneers. Removal! Removal! KENNEDY & BELL HAVE REMOVED TO BUSH STREET, Below Montgomery, Store lately occupied by the Franco-Ameri- can Commercial Company. ■iff fm TcBJfS — One-half Cash ; one-half in One or Two Yi ar.t, at one per cent, per inontli interest. Deferred Payments secured by Mortgages on the Premises. JOHN MIDDLETON & SONS, my!9 td AUCTIONEERS. riooD WANTED TO SELL THE LEASE, FURNITURE, AND GOOD WILL, OF One of the Best Localities on Montgomery -sf. House contains nearly 100 rooms, furnished in the beBt manner, and filled with paying an I permanent lodgers. Address " GOOD BUSINESS." ap!4 tf PostoUlce, Box 1618 B. F. Sterett, 533 Clay St., a few doors below Montgomery, continues to print all kinds of Books, Bills, Circulars, Cards, etc. in superior style, and at reasonable prices. CARD. D. WARREN SMITH Has commenced his business of canvassing the city for subscribers for MIDDLETON 'S OIL PORTRAITS, the series of which embrace WASHINGTON AND MARTHA, LINCOLN, WEBSTER. CLAY, DOUGLAS, GRANT, SHERMAN, and JACKSON. Mr. Smith will call at the business places of our cily and at dwellings at reasonable hours, and exhibit some of the above beautiful Oil Portrait.*. He hopes to meet with success, as the Pictures are worthy a place in every draw- lug room iu our country. AGENT'S HEADQUARTERS. ' JOHN MIDDLETON &. SONS, my26 2m 404 Montgomery street. yiNCKNT'S COLD PREVENTIVE. A Sure Cure FOR COCCUS, COLDS, BRONCHITIS DYSPEPSIA, CONSUMPTION, NIGHT SWEATS, AND PULMONARY DISEASES. Read the following : REMARKABLE CURE. Sail Francisco. September 5th, 1S65 I desire to make known the fact that I was idHie- tcd with a very bad cough for fifteen vears, and, lining this time, used everything which I could hear of without getting the better of my disease, noli I I tried Dr. I). It. Vincent's Cold Preventative orCouub Mixture, which cured lue sound and well. NEWTON MOORE. This is to certify that my wife has been troubled with indigestion for nearly eighteen months, and. by using one In. iii.- of Dr. Vincent's medicine, has been completely cured. San Francisco, April filli. 18C6. JOHNSON J. THOMAS. San FrunciBco, July 17th, 18C5. I hereby certify that, having had a Cough some five months since, which hud troubled me for two vears, and I was so bad that 1 was able to do but little labor of any kind, and could not walk fast without putting myself out of breath. I wan so far gone that I had chills over me and night sweats, and bed what other physicians called disease of the lungs. I had been doctoring a part of the time for the last year, when I saw Dr. D. B. Vincent, and he gave me a small vial of medicine, which relieved me of the chills and night sweats and the cough entirely went away, ami I do not take cold so easy, and my health is mkob better in every respect. My appetile is much better; und I heartily recommend all others who are afflicted with similar complaints to him. JOHN O'NEILL, National Hotel. The aliove named diseases nearly all originate from the same or similar causes, and THE COLD PREYENTIYE will core all of them. It is a sure cure for Dyspep- sia. Price, 50 cents per bottle. D. B. VINCENT, M. D., PHYSICIAN and OCULIST, Treats all diseases successfully on the Electric sys tern. Particular attention paid to treating nil Dis- eases of the Eyes, Rheumatism. Paralysis, etc. Cures guaranteed, or all moneys refunded — in most CUBea even where others fail. 13P Oi'KicK— No. 10U Kearny street, first floor, where he can he consulted at all hours, uuless pro- fessionally engaged. All orders from the country promptly attended to. ap7 D R Y GOODS. BARGAINS ) Itilli./.'l BLACK SILKS ! And still a Few Dreses LEFT OF THAT BEAUTIFUL AND MUCH-ADMIRED DRESS HOODS, "< S UjYB UR ST!" S. MOSORQYE, 222 Third street, Colton's Building. my23tf yi TEE'S AGUE CURE, Fot the Speedy and Certain Cure of In- termittent Fever, or Chills ami Fever. Re- mittent Fever, (.'hill ; Fever, Dumb Agnej-=^ Periodical Headache or Bilious Headache, and Bilious Fevers ; indeed, lor the whole clasa of dis<-;iM-» ongf Dating in biliary derangement, caused by tbe malaria of miasmatic countries. This remedy has rarely failed to cure the severest casts of chills and Fever, and it lias this great advantajto over other Ague medicines, that it subdues the complaint ■vithout injury to the patient. It contains no quinine or other deleterious substance, nor does it produce quinism or any injurious effect whatever. Snaking brothers of the army and the West, try it and you will eudorsc these assertions. Prepared by J. C. AYER li CO., Lowell, Miss. , and sold by CRANE &. BRIG HAM, San Francisco, my26 2m and all Dealers. W E W BOOKS, JUST RECEIVED AT A. Roman Co.'s. vEnonc — A Tale of Slave Life in Home. The Queen Mother and Rosamond. By Swinburne. May and December. By Mrs. Hubbard. The Gold Brick. By Sirs. Ann H. Stephens. Leightou Court. By Charles Kingaley. Only a Woman'* Heart. By Ada Clare. Tne* Toilers of the Sen. By Victor Hugo. The Adventures of Reuben Dnvidger. Citoyeune Jacqueline — A Womau's Lot in the French Revolution. By Sarah Tyller. l Jmo. The Story of Kenneth. By Bayard Tnvlor. St. Martin's Summer. By Anne 11. M. Brewster. The Fortune Seeker. By Mrs Soiithwoith. Six Months Among the Charities of Europe. By John De Liefile Palfrey's History of New Eugland. 2 vols. 12mo. Lite of Robert Owen, ltmio. The Song Book. By John Hullah. The Republic of Plato. Translated by Vauahan Sc Davis. St. Martin's Eve. By Mrs. Henry Wood, W alter Goring. By Annie Thomas. Cherry and Violet. A Tale of the. Great Plague. By the author of May Powell. Itiino. Geological Sketches. Bv Professor Agassix. The Phenomena of Plant' Life. By L. II. Grindou. Lucy Ai lvn. Bv J- T Trowbiiduc. The War of the Rebellion. Bv H S. Foote. Letters of Life By Mrs. L. D Si^ourncy. Stonewall Jackson. A Military Biography. Philip E. Cooke Eccentric Personages. By W Russell, L. L. D. Broken to Harness. A Story of English Dramatic Life. By Yates. The Lost Talcs of Miletus. By Sir Edward Bulwcr Lytton NEW BOOKS RECEIVED BY EVERY STEAMER. Exor.isn ji'.oks imdouted direct to order, WITH 1'ROMIT.VESS AND AT MODERATE PRICES. PUHLIC AND PRIVATE LIBRARIES SlITUED. brylO A. ROMAN k CO., 417 aud 419 Moultfoine.y street. .San Eraucisco. 0ANTY & WAQ NEB, (SVCCESSORS TO J. REOAN,) WHOLESALE AND RETAIL Confectioners, • 111 Montgomery strut, bet. Bush and Sutter. VOLUME V., No 2. Office, No. 532 Merchant stref.t. SAN FRANCISCO. JUNE 2, 1866. TERMS, $5 a Year, by Mail, in Advance. 50 Cents a Month, by Carrier. CONTENTS PROSE. Commodore John Rodgers and the Bombardment of the City ol Val- paraiso. Flora) Pleasures. — By Iris. The Wehrwolf — An Historical Trag eily. The Flower Girl of the Palace Gar- don. My Luck in a Tunnel. Dark Hours. Misery-Mongers. Letter from Rome. Jacob's Well. What the Paris Grand Opera Costs. Perfumes Among the Ancients. AMUSEMENTS : Theatrical Events, and Announce- ments. NEW BOOKS : Review of Recent Publications. POETRY : The Lost Tails of Miletus— By Sir E. L. B-lw-r.— By " Bret." " Dion" — (Lyman R. Goodman.) — By Charles Warren Stoddard. [For the Californian.J THE LOST TAILS OF MILETUS. BY SIR E. L. B-LW-R. [Argument.— Bopeep, a young shepherdess of the plains beside the city of Miletus, loses her flocks through iueautiousness. She foolishly bewails her loss, refuses to be comforted by the gods, and is punished by Zeus, who returns her flocks to her tailless.] TTIGH on the Thracian Hills, half hid in the billows of clover, Thyme and the asphodel bloom, and lulled by Pactoliau stream- She of Miletus lay; and beside her an aged satyr [lets, Scratched his ear with his hoof and playfully mumbled his chestnuts. Vainly the Mamid and the Bassarid gambolled about her, The wild-eyed Bacchante sung, and Pan, the renowned, the accom- plished, Executed his difficult solo. In vain were their gambols and dances — High o'er the sacred groves still echoed the shepherdess' wailing. " Ai, for the fleecy ones, the meek -nosed, the passionless faces ! Ai, for the tallow-scented, the sprightly ones, the high-stepping ! Ai, for the eyes whose glance is that which the rustic, sagac'ous, Ascribes to him that loves, yet dare not disclose his passion I" H«r then Zens answered, " O ! daughter of song and of sorrow 1 Thoughtless guider of sheep ! arise from thy deep lamentation, Since thou canst not trust Fate, nor behave as becomes a Greek maiden, Look and behold thy flocks!" and lo, they returned to her tailless. Bret. (For the Califoinian.) FLORAL PLEASURES. IN leaving spring and entering upon summer, the transition ia so gradual, that we scarcely know whether lo class the montli of May as the last of the spriDg months or the first of those of summer. Much depends on the weather ; but per- haps it is the combination of spring with summer that makes this month so universal a favorite with all. Make a note of what is most desirable in your own or your neighbor's garden ; what the peculiarities are of each favorite class of plants — their time and length of flowering. There is no way of learn- ing the peculiarities of plants so successful as by experiment- ing and noting the results of success or failure. Old garden diaries have an interest of their own only known to those who have kept them. The comparison of one year with another as to time of appearing ; the varieties of color ; what flowers bloom in each month, and how they are grown — whether from seeds, or cuttings, or bulbs. A celebrated writer, in speaking of the enjoyment of a garden, says : " I have often wondered why people so seldom avail themselves of this luxury. They will live year after year in the country, and never go out except for a walk or a drive. Some men never go to a new place, but almost the first thought is, where they may sit in the open air, and ere two days have elapsed, the out-of-doors drawing-room is as familiar as the in-doors." There is much to be learned, no doubt, in communion with nature, even in " the trim garden's narrow round." Many types of higher things are suggested by almost all the occu- pations there, as well as by our plants and flowers themselves ; some of these, being scriptural, will recur to every one, but it- is by ao means an unprofitable task to find new aualogies and types for ourselves. It must be a very dull and prosaic mind that does not almost involuntarily do so : " For all that meets the bodily sense I deem Symbolical — one mighty alphabet For infant minds, and we in the low world, Placed with our backs to bright reality, That we may learn with young, unwouuded ken The substance from its shadow." Few people, it is true, can make such use of these symbols as the poets have done, to instruct others, but the power of discovering and enjoying these teachings from God's book of nature adds greatly to the pleasure of our work, and occupies the mind while the hands are employed " dressing and keep- ing " the garden. It is a good thing to have plenty of flowers — common flowers, every-day favorites : " Creatures not too bright or good For human nature's daily food ;" flowers that may be pulled, flowers suitable for nosegays, flowers that seem to grow better for having their blossoms gathered. This gathering of flowers for one's self or friends is such a pleasure, that I often wonder at its being so frequently deputed to the gardener. How often a branch of flowers car- ries with it an association of ideas that the possessor longs to retain, even after the flowers have withered. Those who are tru« lovers of the garden, with what pleasure and delight do they look upon the gift of a few flowers, and with what care and attention are they preserved ! It is not long since I saw a most interesting incident — the growth of a plant from a small branch. When in flower, it was given to a person who had rendered a service ; the time, place aud circum- stances were so peculiar, that it was preserved ; a cutting or slip was made of it, and grew to be a splendid plant, covered with its beautiful flowers. Now it is a constant reminder of that scene, and no money would induce the owner to part with it. The pleasure of growing plants from cuttings is very great, and with a little piactice almost any of our garden plants can be very successfully grown, filling our windows and porches and gardens with their beautiful forms. IIow frequently do we hear the remark, " Oh, that is so beautiful, I wish I could preserve it!" So you can : propagate it. Make a cutting of it and grow it, and you will soon have a plant rivalling the parent from which it was taken. The pleasure of seeing it grow under your care, and the knowledge that you can increase it and be able to supply your friends, will be one of the purest joys you can experience. FLO AL CALENDAR— CONTINUED. May 20th. St. Beri>ardine of Sienna, Horse-chestnut, (JEschylus.) May 21st. St. Felix, Ragged Bobbin, {Lychnis Jlos-cuculi.) May 22d. St. Tvo, Yellow Star of Bethlehem, (Arnilhoglum pra tensis.) May 23d. St. Julia, Lilac, (Syringa vulgaris.) May 24th. St. Vincent. Monkey Poppy, (Popaver Orientate.) May 25th. St. Urban, Common Avens, {Geum Vrbanum.) May 2Gth. St. Augustine, Yellow Azalia, (Azalia Pontica.) May 27th. St. Bede, Buttercups, (Ranunculus Acris.) May 28th. St. Germain, Lurid Fleur de lis, (Ins Lunda.) May 29th. St. Cyril, Blue Bottle, (Centaurea Montana.) May 30th. St. Ferdinand, Spearwort, (Ranunculus Jlammula.) May 31st. St. Petronnilla, Turk's cup Lily, (Lilium Jlavium.) June 1st. St. Justin, Yellow Rose, (Rosa Lutea.) June 2d. St. Erasmus, Pimpernel, (Anagallis Arvcnsis.) Iris. A recent writer says of Cuvier : " It was to his mother, a woman of considerable spirit and enlightenment, that he was indebted for the means of cultivating his mind. To her he repeated his lessons : she taught him to draw, and read with him works of history and literature. In fact, it was by her the key to learning was put into his hands. She imparted to him no small portion of that sagacity and penetration which he cultivated to such an advantage in after life. A copy of Buffon, a book he met with by accident in his father's house, gave his miud a turn to natural history. He began by copy- ing the figures for amusement." JACOB'S WELL. TT^HE following interesting description of this famous local- 1 ity we find in Good Words, from the pen of Rev. Nor- man McLeod, D. D. : " There has never been a doubt entertained by the most skeptical or critical traveller regarding the authenticity of this well. Beyond all question, it is the one at which our Savior rested as he journeyed along the route which travellers gener- ally follow from Jerusalem to Galilee. Every feature of the landscape starts into life as we read the narrative of his mem- orable conversation with the woman of Samaria ; the plain of cornfields which were then as now whitening to the harvest ; the mountain rising above, on which the Samaritan temple was built ; the neighboring town of Shechem : the Samari- tans worshipping, as they still do, toward ' this mountain,' and there only ; all are evidences of its truth, apart from the com- mon and unbroken tradition. " This well is not what we understand by that name. It is not a spring of water bubbling up from the earth, nor is it reached by an excavation. It is a shaft cut in the living rock, about nine feet in diameter, and now upwards of seventy feet deep. As an immense quantity of rubbish has fallen into it, the original depth must have been much greater, probably twice what it is now. It was, therefore, intended by its first engineer as a reservoir rather than as a means of reaching a spring. Then, again, if any wall, as some suppose, once sur- rounded its mouth, on which the traveller could rest, it is now gone. The mouth is funnel-shaped, and its sides are formed by the rubbish of old buildings, a church having once been erected over it. But we can descend this funnel and enter a cave, as it were, a few feet below the surface, which is the re- mains of a small dome that once covered the mouth. De- scending a few feet, we perceive in the floor an aperture partly covered by a flat stone, and leaving sufficient space through which we can look into the darkness. We sent a plumb-line down into the water — with which the well certainly seemed to be abundantly supplied at the time of our visit. " Many have been puzzled to account for Jacob's having dug such a well here, when the whole valley of Shechem, only a quarter of an hour's walk off, is more musical with streams than any other in Palestine. But some one dug the well and who more likely than Jacob, not only to have on his own property what was, in his time, more valuable than a private coal mine would be with us ; but also for the moral purpose of keeping his family and dependents as separate as possible from the depraved Shechemites. " This well is, indeed, a holy spot. One is glad that the contending ecclesiastical parties in the land have built their churches on places which have but little historical value, and that a merciful Providence has preserved untouched, and open to the eye of heaven, such spots as that on the Mount of Olives, ' over against the Temple,' aud, above all, Jacob's well. It is now said, however, that the Greek Church have purchased it, as the site of a church, for 70,000 piastres. Universal Christendom, to which it belongs, should protest agaiDstsuch ' pious profanation.' " What were Landor's " Imaginary Conversations " to the following, which is vouched to have taken place in Main street, in the prosaic city of Taunton, Mass. The parties were an ancient from the outskirts, in a soldier's overcoat and battered hat, with maudlin eyes and a tobacco-stained chin, who was seated in a wagon beside a coffin fresh from the un- dertaker's. To him approached another venerable bummer with a fur collar and a pair of unsteady legs. The conversa- tion may be briefly condensed thus : " What have you got there ?" " A coffin." " Is it new ?" " Yes ; just bought it and gin fifteen dollars." " Aint you going to wet it ?" At this point our informant left, and the question whether the owner of the coffin submitted gracefully to the usual tax upon newly-purchased articles, remains in doubt. Why does an angry man resemble a lady in full dress ? Because he is very much ruffled. V 2 THE C ALjFORN I AN | June 2d THE WEHBWOLF. AN HISTORICAL TRAGEDY. rpHOSE who have travelled through the south of France 6 may have seen, scattered here and there, some traces of a lost race, separate aud ui.-tinct from the mass of the inhabitants of the country. Forming a respectable commu- nity with regard to numbers, in the Middle Ages, they have gradually died out under the injustice and oppression with which they were treated by their more powerful neighbors. Forced to remain to themselves, and cut off from all the social advantages of other people, frequent intermarriages were not slow in producing a dwarfed and really inferior race. From contempt, the feelings of Ijo people among whom they existed soon changed to a fierce and vindictive hate. They left no opportunity unimproved by which they could oppress and wrong these miserable Cngots, as the race of whom 1 write was called. The Church, with greater sympathy and love for these unfortunates, was their friend and protector. Yet it was as much as the priests could do, powerful a3 they were, to effect their admission into the churches, from which the pure blood sought to exclude them ; aud this privilege was gained solely on condition that tbey should enter the church only by a side door, built so low as to force them to bow their heads in humility ia approaching their superiors. In the eyes of the people the poor Cagots were infidels, heathens, poisoners, worshippers of Satan ; and it was a favorite superstition with theni that these poor wretches lived chiefly on human blood, and that they were wehrwolves— that it, possessed of power to assume at pleasure tin? form of a wolf, and to pursue the destructive habits of that terrible monster. In vain the priests combated this notion, and exerted their power on behalf of the unfortunates ; the people of the country were too thoroughly imbued with the idea to abandon it. Sunk in ignorance and degradation as the Cagots were, there were those among them, few and far between, it is true, who would do honor to any race, to any blood, cveu the purest. There were instances of rare beauty, virtue and goodness among them, which almost atoned for the darkness find shame of the race. In the latter part of the year 1445 there was in the south of France a village (now destroyed) of these unhappy people, containing a population of at least two hundred. The village had no name, and was known throughout the surrounding country as the Cagot hamlet. Its dwellings were nearly all mere huts, small and meanly constructed, and the inhabitants lived in the most abject poverty. They barely eked out a miserable support by cutting wood from the neighboring for- est, aud supplying the thriving town of Lannes, which stood near by, with that commodity. Between the two places there was the slightest possible intercourse. The townspeople ouly permitted the Cagots to b&ter Lannes at stated periods to bring wood and procure such articles as they needed, and then rarely failed to drive them away with curses, aud some- times with blows. Yet the hamlet had one fri-nd, that was the good priest, Father Basil, who had devoted his life to the service of the poor creatures. He had built a chapel iu the hamlet, and there ministered daily to their spiritual wants. He pitied them, and his heart warmed to them as he saw the injustice which was heaped upon thein. One day Father Ba?il having wandered abstractedly be- yond the limits of the hamlet, toward Lannes, was startled lrom his revery by a load shout. Looking up, he saw a young girl flying in terror before a crowd of the townspeople, who were pursuing her with hoots and curses. The girl saw him, and, rushing toward him, fell at his feet and clung to his robe. " Save me, father!" she cried, imploringly. The priest waved the crowd back sternly, aud demanded what they wanted of the girl. " She is a devil, a wehrwolf." said one of the crowd, a stout, burly artisan. " We want her life before she fattens on more of our blood." H For shame, Jean Coqnin," exclaimed the priest, sternly. " Have you no more manliness than to persecute a poor girl thus ?" " She is not a poor girl, father," said the man, sullenly. "She is a witch, a wehrwo!: a I we moan to put a stop to her mischief. Do we not, mV .Wends ?" he added, appealiug to the crowd, who answered bite with a storm of curses aimed at the poor girl. The priest gazed at thrni Scornfully for a moment, and then drawing the girl closer to him, said calmly: "This is no wehrwolf. She is one of God's children, aud has sought the protection of hi3 holy church, and thus do I throw it around her. Let him who dare touch her at his peril." As he spoke, he threw over her neck the crucifix and rosary which he wore at his girdle. The crowd hesitated, aud then drew back, and taking the girl's hand he led lur safely to the hamlet. "What have you done, Adele ?" asked Father Basil, as they went along. "Nothing, father. They found me On the edge of the forest nearest town, and said I was a wehrwolf, aud threat- ened to kill me." , " What were you doing in the forest, my child ?" asked the cure. The girl blushed and hung her head. " Ah ! You were there to meet a lover. Is it so ?" Still she was silent ; but the blushing face answered him, and he continued : " Is he of your own race, Adele?" " No, my father, he belongs there ;" aud ebo pointed to the town. " My child,"' said the old man, kindly, " I fear this is not right. You had better bcwatv'of the gallants of the town. You are not the equal of any of them, and I cannot think they will deal 'honorably with you. Let them alone, my daughter, or you will have cause to repent it." "But Frangois is brave aud honorable, father," she exclaimed indignantly. " He loves me, though I ain a poor, down-trod- den Cagot. And why should he not love me? Have I not beauty ? Am I not as worthy of him as any of the girls in the town fhat look so c./ldly at me wheu they puss me ? Why should he not love me ?" She spoke rapidly and with passion, and her face seemed to the good old man more beautiful than anythiug he had ever seen. Ho knew nothing of the p.rt of managing affairs of the heart, having been in the Church since his boyhood ; but he saw that it was useless to attempt to check this. Adele was the daughter of an old widow. Her father had been killed years before iu a brawl with the townspeople ; aud being a man of strong, ungovernable passions, and feeling keenly the degradation of his race, it is likely that his death was not unprovoked. The cottage in which the mother and daughter resided, was a little removed from the hamlet, and stood nearer to the forest than any of the others. It was small and poor, but Adele made it neater and more attractive than any iu the hamlet. She had trained vines over the doors, and around it had planted some flowers of rare beauty. Still it had the stern, sullen look that all the Cagot residences bore. Nothing, it seemed, could remove the mark of the curse. Old Louise, Adele's mother, had been bedridden for more than a year, and now awaited her daughter's coming with impatience. She knew that Adele had gone to the for- est, and, kuowiug the hatred which was felt for the Cagots, feared that some harm had befallen her. As the young girl entered at last, she asked her sharply what had detained her so loug ; aud Adele told her of her adventure with the towns- people. " Curse them !" shrieked the old dame. " They murdered your father, child, and now they would take you from me. Oh, that 1 were a wolf ! I would toar them, I warrant me. Girl, girl, if ever you love oue of them, as 1 did once when I was young, you will repent it bitterly. You'd better dia first." Adele shuddered. Twice in : n hour she had received this warning, and she could not shake off the feeling which it threw over her. Still she could not give up her love for Fran- gois, even though he was a townsman. He was a young man, a few years older than herself, and had first met her in the forest, aud had loved her. She had returned his passion from the first ; and all of their meetings had been held iu the woods. He did not wish his people to know of his attachment to her, for he wjall knew the opposition it would evoke, and he had not the courage to avow openly his love for a Cagot girl, even though she was as pure and beautiful as Adele. It would draw down upon him all the prejudice which was exhibited toward the despised race, and this he did not care to brave. Still he lo\ed Adele sincerely and honestly ; aud he meant, wheu he had earned a sufficiency of money, to take her to some other part of the country and marry her. On the morning in which my story opens he had met her in the forest, and upon hearing some oue approach had plunged into the wood to avoid being seen with her, and Adele had been discovered by a party of townsmen, and had been parsued by them. Hud she fallen into their clutches when Father Basil rescued her, there is not a doubt that she would have fared badly. Frangois had not seen the adven- ture, and was iguoraut of it uutil Adele told him of it at their uext meeting. Theu he could only sigh, and press her closer to him. Thus matters went on uutil the winter set in. It was very long and severe, and brought with it a still more terrible visi- taut. The Cagot hamlet and the town of Lannes were both built near a large forest, which has now given place to a smiling vineyard. This forest iiad once been famous for the terriblo wolves which haunted it iu the winter season. Of late years they had disappeared ; but now, as the winter set fairly in, they came again. Of course, popular prejudice at once declared that these monsters were not leal wolves, but wehr-wolves, or, iu other words, the Cagots, who inhabited the neighboring hamlet, and this was the occasion of renewed persecutions. Adele aud Frangois continued to meet in the forest, and, if they know that the wolves were there, paid no attention to them. LjHc one afternoon, Adele started out to cut some wood for her hut. The long told season had exhausted the scanty stock which she had laid in at the beginning of winter, aud she was forced to cut the wood from the forest from day to day. Taking her hatchet, although it was late, and the dis- tance long, beut her steps to that part of the wood wher* she usually met her lover, hoping she might see him there. Arriving at the spot, she saw nothing of him, and, a» the darkness was coming on, fell at once to chopping her wood. She soon obtained a sufficient quantity, and was about to start on her return home, when she saw her lover coming toward the forest. When he joined her, he said it was so late that he would walk with her a portion of the way toward her home. _ As they approached the hamlet they were joined by Father Basil, who was also going thither from the town ; and Fran- cois now left them. The next afternoon she repaired to the trysting-spot again ; and this time, just before dark, Frangois met her again. He told her he was ready to go with her to some distant part of the country and be married, as soon, as the spring should set in, and that she must make her preparations to go with hiin. I This she readily promised to do ; but, while she was speaking, footfalls were heard, and Fraugcis turned away aud plunged into the gloom of the woods, to escape recognition. Adele fell at once to chopping wood ; but she was so nervous and agitated that she cut her hand badly with her hatchet, and while she wa3 trying to bind it up, a man came up with her, and, stopping, said in a harsh tone: '• W bat are you doing here at this hour, girl ?" She glanced at him in alarm, for she recognized his voice. It was Jeau Coquiu, who had been the chief of her persecu- tors on the day when she was rescued by Father Basil. " What are you doing here, I say ?" he continued, fiercely. " By St. Peter, I think you are lying in wait for some honest fellow who may chance to pass this way after nightfall. But, I'll put a stop to that." With these words he sprang after her. and, wrenching her hatchet from her hand, aimed a terrible blow at her. She eluded it, and fled into the wuod£, closely pursued by him. It was dark and gloomy in among the trees, and she paused a few yards from where she had started, and her blood froze with horror, as she beheld two bright eyes shining before her in the darkness. Jean Coquiu saw them, too, and paused, for a moment, in dismay ; and Adele, taking advantage of this, slipped by him, unobserved, and regaining the path, fled home- ward. Well might Jean Coquin pause, and utter an exclamation of dismay. Straight before him stood a large she wolf, with her bright eyes glaring fiercely at him, and her huge gray form standing out boldly amid the gloom. Jean Coquin was not a coward ; and iu this case he saw that his only safely lay in making a good, bold fight for his life. So he grasped the hatchet firmly, and breathed a hasty prayer. As he did so, the animal uttered a savage growl, aud sprang at his throat. A sharp, short struggle followed, in which Jean was sorely put to it to defend himself. At last, however, he gave the wolf a deep cut in the fore paw ; and, with a yell of ballled rage, the auimal turned and fled from him, leaving him a little scratched und bruised, but iu nowise badly hurt. Now, as he had come so suddeuly upon the wolf while in pursuit of the young Uagot girl, aud as he was a firm believer in the wehrwolf superstiliou, Jeau Coquiu did not for an in- stant doubt that the wolf he had fought was no other than Adele, in her lupine form. Indeed, wheu wo consider! tlie prevalence of the superstition iu that dark period, we cannot wonder at this. Ho had received positive proof that she was a wehrwolf, and had seen her, with his own eyes, change from a woman into a she-wolf. This was all he wanted ; and, filled with the idea which the desire for vengeance called up, ho hastened to the town to put it into execution. Lannes was full of wild excitement when his Story was told. He was thought very highly of in the town, and no one dreamed of disputing his word. His statement made the townspeople, who had collected to hear it, furious. '• Down with the Cagots !" was shouted by several voices. " Ay ! that's it," said Joan ; " down, not only with this Cagot, but with the whole race." <• Let us burn their hamlet, and cut the throats of the wholo set!" shouted another. " Not so, ray friends," cried a third. " Let us go to this she-wolf's den and take vengeance upon her, and bum the den over her head. We have nothing as yet to punish the rest for - but we can rid ourselves of this one. But," he added, turning to Jean, " did you not say that you wounded the wolf in the fore paw?" "Ay, that I did !" replied Jean, "in the right fore-paw." " Then," said the other, " if this girl is guilty of the chargo you bring against her, she will bear the mark of the wound on the left arm or hand. Come, my friends. To the she- wolf's den — away I" With loud shouts, tho crowd rushed madly toward the Cagot hamlet. Each moment their wrath grow fiercer and June 2d] fiercer still, until it passed beyond all control. As they neared the hamlet, their cries and shouts roused the poor wretches from their slumbers, and caused them to tremble with dread, for their hour had come. But, with unusual- stead- iness of purpose, the mob swept through the wretched streets, and passed on toward the lonely cottage near the forest. Adele, upon reaching her home, had bound her wounded arm, and was now sleeping quietly, dreaming of her lover, and little thinking of the terrible danger which threatened her. She had not waited to see the issue of the light in the forest between Jean and the wolf, aud was ignorant of all that had transpired. She was roused from her slumber? by loud cries and the tramping of many feet around the house. Then there came a fierce rapping at the door, and a sharp demand to be admitted. Instinctively the poor girl knew that some new persecution awaited her, and she shrank coweriugly into a corner, behind some old rubbish. In an instant the door was burst in, and the crowd poured into tho house. The old dame, divining their purpose, received their with a storm of curses, and shook her withered fists at them in impotent ruge. ''Silence, old wolf!" cried Jean Cocpain, brutally. "Tell us, where is your cub ?" Just then his keen eye chanced to spy Adele, who was crouching in the corner, and she was soon dragged forth into the midst of the throug. Jean seized her bandaged hand, and holding it up forcibly, cried exultantly, " Behold the proof! I wounded the wolf in the left forepaw. Here is the cut." And with these words he tore the bandage from the hand, and exposed a newly-made cat. There was a murmur of wonder from the crowd, and then Jean shouted, " Take her out, and tie her hand and foot. Then light the old hut, and let us burn her before she does more harm to us !" " But what shall we do with the old one ?" asked one of tho crowd. " Burn her, too !" was the inhuman reply. " Let her stay where she is. She cannot escape us." The crowd now left the cottage ; and Jean, holding Adele with a grasp of iron, led her out with him. Upon reaching the open air, he produced a stout cord, and, in spite of her prayers and struggles, was about to bind her, when he was hurled with force to the ground, and Frang'ois, passing his arm round the young girl's waist, drew her to him. "She is mine !" he exclaimed. "She is my promised wife. She is uo wehrwolf. She shall not be harmed while I have life to protect her." " The lad is mad. Seize him, friends, and save him from his folly." The speaker was Francois' father. The young m<in had just arrived, and had come with the intention of defending Adele with his life. But he was powerless to contend against such a crowd, whose excitement and frenzy were becoming greater every moment. Before he could reply to his father, Adele was torn from his grasp, and he was seized and held by four strong men. All his efforts to release himself were vain, and he was forced to witness the tragedy which followed, power- less to help her whom he loved so dearly. Adele was bound securely. The cruel wretches into whose hauds she had fallen had no pity. Her beauty and youlhful- ness only maddened them the more ; and to all her weeping, pleading, and praying, they turned deaf ears. Led on by Jean Coquiu, they were hurrying with her to the flames, when Father Basil rushed up almost out of breath, and exclaimed in a loud voice : " Hold !" The men paused, and the priest demanded, sternly, to know what they meant. Alas! their meaning was too plain. The cottage was already in flames, and the shrieks of the bed- ridden old dame were heart-rending. She had been in the burning building, and was being consumed with it. " She is a wehrwolf, futher !" cried a seore of voices. " We have proved it on her, an.) wo mean to burn her in her den.'' " She is * human creature," cried Father Basil ; " and in the name of our most holy church I command you to release her." There was a murmur of disapproval from tho crowd. " She must Jle, father I You have no right to interfere. She is not a woman, but a wild beast, and has i^o soul to save." The men moved toward tho flames with their victim ; but Father Basil sprang between them and the J'earful elements, and, lifting the crucifix with both hands high over his head, shrieked in a ton<? which made his hearers' blood run cold : " In tho name of the holy Church, I pronounce all who countenance or aid this murder accursed — and here I shut the k»tes of Heaven against them !'* The fearful interdict was cut short, for the priest was felled to the earth by a heavy blow from the hand of Jean Coquin. The crowd had sunk on their knees as Father Basil began the sentence of excommunication which was to shut them out from the Church here and from Heaven hereafter. The wretches released their victim ; but Jean, lifting her in his THE C ALIFO RNIAN. brawny arms, bore her quickly to the cottage, and with pro- digious strength hurled her far into the burning mass. There was a wild shriek as the flames closed around her, and then all was still. When Father Basil recovered, he went in haste to Paris, and soon the officers of the law came down to Lannes to visit upon the offenders the vengeance of the State. Jean Coquin was broken upon the wheel, and several who had been promi- nent in the affair were hung. The town was placed under a direful sentence of excommunication by the bishop of the diocese, and the sacraments and relics contained in the church were carried away in solemn procession. Franyois did not long survive the terrible tragedy through which he had passed. His father, who really lovedjhim, did all in his power to bring him back to his old happy condition : but to the last the young man manifested toward him the greatest aversion. MISEEY-1IONGERS. "TV riSERY-MONGERS (the word is not to be found in J-V-L Johnson, yet it suits) are those who do not really suf- fer affliction, but make a trade of it — and often a very thriv- ing business, too. They are scattered among every class, but especially they belong to the " genus irritable " — the second or third-rate order of people who live by their brains. Not the first order — for the highest form of intellect is rarely mis- erable. True genius of the completest kind is not only a men tal but a moral quality. Itself creates the atmosphere it lives in : a higher and rarer air than that of common earth. " Calm pleasures there abide ; — majestic pubis." To a really great mau, the petty vanities, shallow angers, and morbid crotchets of smaller natures are unknown. Above all, genius gives to its possessor a larger, clearer vision ; eyes that look outwards, not inwards. That enormous Ego — the source of so many puny woes to lesser minds — rarely gri-ws rampant in a man who is great enough to know his own littleness. Consequently, he is saved at once from a hundred vexations which dog the heels of a mental Chang — a seven-foot giant of genius — who is always measuring himself with Tom, Dick, and Harry, and requiring, or fancying he requires, larger clothes, longer beds, and bigger hats than they. When Tom, Dick, and Harry, annoyed at these exactions, find that the small son of Anak is not so very much taller than themselves, cut him up in reviews or snub him in society, great is the vexation of spirit he endures. But your real giant, who never thinks of Tom, Dick, and Harry at all, takes the matter quite calmly : whatever be his own altitude, he sees before, him au ideal far higher than himself, and ten times higher than any- thing they sen, and this keeps him at once very humble in his own opinion, anil very indifferent to theirs. The present es- sayist, though decidedly ?wta man of genius, has known a good many such, and has always found them neither strutting like peacocks nor marching on stilts, but moving about as tame as the elephant in the Zoological Gardens, and as apparently un- conscious of their own magnitude. It is your second-rate, your merely clever mau, who, ape-like, is always rattling at the bars of his cage ; mopping and mowing to attract atten- tion, and eagerly holding out his paw for the nuts and apples of public appreciation, which, if he does not get — why he sits aud howls ! Such people have rarely suffered any dire calamity or heart- deep blow. To have sat down with sorrow — real sorrow — more often gives a steadiness and balance to the whole char- acter, and leaves behind, a permanent consistent cheerfulness, more touching, and 0 how infinitely more blessed, than the mirth of those who have never known grief ! Also, after deep anguish comes a readiuess to seize upon, make the best of, and enjoy to the uttermost, every passing pleasure : for the man who has once known famine will never waste even a crumb again. Rather will he look with compassionate won- der at the many who scatter recklessly their daily bread of comfort and peace ; who turn disgusted from a simple break- fast, because they are looking forward to a possible sumptuous dinner ; or throw away contemptuously their wholesome crust, because they see, with envious eyes, their opposite neighbor feeding on plum-cake. No, the miserable people whom one meets are not the really unhappy ones, or rather those who have actual misfortune to bear, there being a wide distinction between inislortune and unhappiness. How often do wo see moving in society, carry- ing everywhere a pleasant face, aud troubling no one with their secret care, those whom we know are burdened with au inevitable, incoimnuuicable grief: an insane wife, a dissipated husband, tyrannical pareuts, or ungrateful children ? Yet they say nothing about it, this skeleton in the cupboard, which their neighbors all kuow of or guess at, but upon which they themselves quietly turn the key, and go on their way ; uncomplaining, aud thankful to be spared complaining. What good will it do to them to moan ? It is not they, the unfor- tunate men, nor yet the men of genius, who contrive to make miserable their own lives and those of everybody connected with them. The true misery-mongers are a very different race ; you may find the key to their mystery in Wilton's fa- mous axiom — " Fallen cherub, to be weak ia uiiuerublo, Doing or eufleriug." 3 There, for once, the Devil spoke truth. Miserable peoploare invariably weak people. " O well for him whose will is strong, He suffers, but he will not sniffer fomfj He suffers, but be cannot Bfcff'er wrong." Of course not, because his firm will must, in time, shake, off any suffering ; and because no amount of external!-.- mf$/l :d evil is to be compared to the evil which a man indicts upon himself; by feebleness of purpose, by cowardly nolv resistuhc; to oppression, and by a general Uncertainty of aim:- or Sfc| He who sees the right, and cannot follow it; whn 1; • things noble, yet dare not fight against things ignoble In him- self or others ; who is haunted by a high id-:il of wh.tt he wishes to he, yet is forever falling short Of it, and- fhat"his friends are judging him, not unjustly, by what he i? iBfh er than by what he vainly aims at being— this man K BflfcfefelHl: one of the unhappiest creatures living. One of the r t harmful, too, since you can be on your guard against the downright villain, but the aesthetic evil-doer, the thony. I good and practically bad man, who has lofty aspirations with- out performances, virtuous impulses and no persistence - against such an one you have no weapons to use. Ho dis- arms your resentment by exciting your pity ; is forever cry- ing " Quarter, quarter !" and, though yon feel that he' <]>•■ none, that his weakness has injured yourself and other.? as much as any wickedness, still, out of pure compassion, you sheathe your righteous sword and let him escape unpunished. Up he rises, fresh as ever, and pursues his conrsp. always sin ning and always repenting, yet claiming to be judged, not by the sin, but the penitence ; continually and obstinately nifn . able, yet blind to the fact that half his misery is caused by himself alone. And this brings us to the other root of misoiT-mnngering — selfishness. None but a thoroughly selfish person can be always unhappy. Life is so equally balanced thai, there is always as much to rejoice as to weep over, if we are only able — and willing — to rejoice in and for and through others. " Time anil the hour run through the roughest dav" — if we will but let it be so — if we will allow our sky fo clear aud our wounds to heal — believing in the wonderfully repara- tive powers of Nature when she is given free play. But these poor souls will not give her free play ; they prefer to rrYiTnl i in their griefs, refusing obstinately all remedies, ti!l thev brino- on a chronic dyspepsia of the soul, which is often coinofned with a corresponding disease of the 688f; It may seem a dreadful doctrine to poetical people ; but two-thirds of a man's woes usually begin in his Stomach. Irregular feeding, walking, and sleeping, with ifincii tot) regu- lar smoking, are the cause of half the melancholy poetry bull cynical prose with which we are innndated. .Also of man) a miserable home, hiding its miseries under tho decent d - i which society has the good taste and good feeling to abstain from prying too closely into ; and of rrol a few rJpSfi . n'dai , bankruptcies and divorce cases. If a modern editi.yi „f -, he Miseries of Human Life were to be written, tltt aMfllfor ifiight well trace them to that unsanitary condition, vitSt of body and then of mind, into which civilization, or the luxurious extreme of it, ha3 brought us, and upon which somi! of us rather pride ourselves, as if it were a grand thing to be " mor- bid ;" quite forgetting the origin of the word, and that such a condition, whether mental or physical, or both combined, is, in truth, not life, but the beginning of death, to every human being. And suppose it is bo. Granted that 1 am a man with "nerves" or "liver," or any other permanent ailtiic nt, iflh 1 to make my ill-used and consequently ill-Conducted interior a nuisance to all my family aud friend.'.- '.' lh \ ho in -.i;'- M id ever ache but mine ? Is no one else blessed (or cursed) with a too sensitive organism, obliged to straggle wit H and control it, and at least contrive that it shall trouble others as little as possible ? Why should my wife, sister, of datffhter be expected to bestow unlimited sympathy upon every small suffering of mine, while she hides many an ache or pain which I never even know of, or, knowing, should sciffcely lie .1, except so far as it affected my own personal roi.d'urt, or because it is a certain annoyance to me that anybody should require sympathy but myself? Have niV friend.-; (id" of their own, that I should be forever laying lipo'n, th'eiii the burden of mine — always exacting and reqftfflftg tinfliliig? People like a fair balance — a cheery give and ta!;e in the usefulnesses as well as the pleasantnesses of life. Is if, wou- derftil, then, that, after a time, they a littb- shrink from km- are shy of asking me to dinner?— at least, often. Cor ft y feel I may be a cloud upon' the social board; my Hiobrft are so various, they never know how to take me. They are very sorry for me, very kind to me, but, in plain English, they would rather have my room than my company. 1 tun too full of myself ever to be any pleasure or benefit to others. For it is a curious fact, that the most self-CQutained natures are always the least sell-engrossed; and those to whom everybody applies for help, most seldom ,-isk or require it. The centre sun of every family, round which the others instinctively revolve, is sure to bo a planet bright and fixed, carrying its light within itself. But a man whose sou! is all 4 THE CALjFORN IAN. | June 2d darkness, or who is at best a poor wandering star, eager to kindle his puny candle at somebody else's beams, can be a light and a blessing to nobody. And he may be — probably without intending it — quite the opposite. Who does not, in visiting a household, soon dis- cover the one who contributes nothing to the happiness of the rest, who is a sort of eleemosynary pensioner on every- body's forbearance, living, as beggars do, by the continual exhibition of his sores, aud often gettiug sympathy — as beg- gars get half pence — just to get rid of him ? Who does not recognize the person whose morning step upon the stair, so far from having " musis in't," sends a premonitory shiver, aud even a dead silence, round the cheerful, chattering breakfast- table ? — whose departure to business, or elsewhere, causes a sudden rise in the domestic barometer ? — nay, whose very quitting a room gives a sense 01 relief as of a cloud lilted off ? Yet he may have mauy good qualities, but they are all ob- scured and rendered useless by the iucessant recurrence to and absorption in self, which is the root of all his endless woes. And, alas! while believing himself — as he wishes to be — the most important person in his circle, our miserable friend fills really the lowest place therein — that of the one whom nobody trusts, nobody leans upon ; whom everybody has to help, but who is never expected to help anybody. How could he ? for in him is lacking the very foundation of all helpfulness — the strong, brave, cheerful spirit which, under all circumstances, will throw itself out of itself sufficiently to understand and be of use to its neighbor. Truly, as regards usefulness, one might as well attempt to labor in an unlighted coal-mine as to do one's work in the world in an atmosphere of perpetual gloom. Certain it is, Nature herself scorns the idea. Some of her operations are carried on in tender temporary shadow— but only temporary. Nothing with her is permanently dark, except the corruption of the grave. Wherever, in any man's temperament, is incu- rable sadness, morbid melancholy, be sure there is something also corrupt ; something which shrinks from the light because it needs to be hid ; something diseased, in body or mind, which, so far from being petted and indulged, and glossed over with poetical fancies, needs to be rooted out — with a hand gentle, indeed, but strong and firm as that of the good surgeon, who deals deliberately present pain for future good. A healthy temperament, though not insensible to sorrow, never revels in it or is subdued by it; it accepts it, endures it, aud then looks round for the best mode of curing it. We cannot too strongly impress on the rising generation — who, like the young bears, have all their troubles before them — that suffering is not a normal, but an abnormal state ; and that to believe otherwise is to believe that the world is a mere chaos of torment made for the amusement of the omnipotent— not God, but Devil — who rules it. 1'aiu must exist — for some inscrutable end — inseparable from the present economy of the world ; but we ought, out of common sense aud common justice, and especially religion, to regard it, not as the law of our lives, but as an accident usually resulting from our breaking that law. We cannot wholly prevent suf- fering, but we can guard against it, in degree ; and we never need wholly succumb to it till we succumb to the universal defeat, preparatory to the immortal victory. When one thinks of death— of how brief, at best, is our little day, and how quickly comes the end that levels all things, what folly seems the habit of misery ? — for it grows into a mere habit, quite independent of causes. Why keep up this perpetual moan, and always about ourselves, because we are not rich enough, or haudsome enough, or loved euough — because other people have better luck than we ? .Possibly they have, and possibly not ; for we all know our own private cares, but few of us know our neighbor's. And so we go on, always finding some pet grievance to nurse, and coxing it from a trifling vexation into an incurable grief or an unpardonable wrong. Little matter what it is ; to a man of this tempera- ment any peg will do whereon to hang the gloomy pall, self- woven, of perpetual sorrow. Or else he spins it, spider-like, out of his own bowels, and when its filmy meshes grow into great bars between him and the sky, he thinks with his petty web he has blurred the whole creation. Poor wretch ! if he could only pull it down and sweep it away ; if he could accept his lot, even though a hard one, an afflicted stomach, sensitive nerves, a naturally bad temper, or an unnaturally empty purse. Still, my frieud, grin and bear it ! Be sure you do not suffer alone ; many another is much worse off than you. Why not try to give him a helping hand, and strengthen yourself by the giving of it? For we do not wish to make a mock of you, you miserable misery- monger, since you are much to be pitied ; and there is a sad reality at the bottom of your most contemptible shams. We would rather rouse you to forget yourself, and then, be sure you will gradually forget your sufferings. And supposing these should remain in greater or less degree, as the necessary accompani- ineut of your individual lot or peculiar idiosyucracy, still, ac- cording to the common-sense argument of the sage author of Original Poems, remonstrating with an unwashed child, " If the water is cold, and the comb hurls your head, What good j(ood will it do you to cry T" Alack ! we are exceedingly like naughty children ; we do not ojoy being made clean. — By the Author of" John Halifax.' |For tbc Califm-uian.] "DION." (LYMAN R. G00D5IAN.) "^TOU sang too early in the Spring Of our unclieerful year of song ; You felt the bitter chill of wrong, And on u sudden ceased to sing. And on a sudden sang no more In skilful measure to our needs • But there is One who ever heeds Your numbers on the Blither shore. I picture you as one who lies Anion;; the palms, with harp and crown. A silver, quivering thread, let down From crystal walls of Paradise, Is the sweet echo of a voice Thai thrills me. In your vineyard's throng I taste your purple grapes of song, Aud in their honey-blood rejoice. Oiuiilks Wakken Stoddard. DAKK HOURS. I'M what we calls a ganger, and have so many men under me when we're making a new line o' rail. 1 passed best part o' my lime in the country ; but I have worked on the lines in France and Spain ; but what I'm about to tell you happened in London, where we'd sunk a shaft right down, and then was tunnelling forrards and backards — the shaft being to get rid of your stuff, and sometimes lor a steam-engine to be pumping up the water. It's rather dangerous work, and many men gets hurt ; but then a great deal of it's through carelessness, for lots of our fellows seems as though the whole o' their brains is in their backs and arms, where they'r pre- cious strong, aud nowheres else ; but I'd got so used to it, that in cutting or tunnel it was all the same to me, aud now I was busy supering the men digging, and sometimes bricklaying a bit, so that 1 thought werry little about danger when I'd seen as all the shores and props was well in their places. It was just at the end o' the diuuer-hour oue day, and 1 wa3 gone down the shaft to have a good look round befoie work begun again, and I'd got my right hand man, Sam Car- berry, with me. It was a new shaft, about thirty foot deep, with ladders to go down, and a windlass and baskets for bringing up stuff and letting down bricks and mortar. We hadn't tunnelled more than p'r'aps some ten oradozen foot each way, so as you may suppose it was werry fresh — green, as we calls it ; and I wasn't quite satisfied about the shoriug up, and so on, for you know fellows do get so precious careless when once they've got used to danger ; and as for some of our big navvies, why they're jest like a set o' babies, aud for everything else but their regular work, they're quite as helpless. Tell 'em to fill a lorry, or skid a wheel, or wheel a barrel1, they'll do it like smoke ; but as to taking care o' themselves — but there, I needn't say no more about that — just look at the great, good-tempered, lolloping fellows ! A man can't have it all ways ; and if he's got it all in bone and muscle, why tain t to be expected as he's going to have all the brains too. " That's giving a bit, there, Sam," I Bays, a-pointing to one part o' the shaft where the earth was a-bulging, and looked loose. ■' That ain't safe. There'll be a barrer lull o' stuff a top o' somebody's head afore the arternoou's over. That's the rain — that is. Take your metl and knock out that lower shore, and we'll put it a couple o' feet higher up. Mind how you does it !" Sam nods his head, for he was a chap as never spoke if he could help it, and then he gets up, while I takes a look or two at the brickwork, so as not to be done by the men, nor yet dropped on by the foreman. Then 1 hears Sam banging away :'t the bit o' scaffold-pole, and directly after it conies down with a hollow sound ; and then there was a rat- tling o' loose gravelly earth as I peeps out, and then feels as though my heart was in my mouth, as 1 shouts out : " That's the wrong oue !" But in an instant Sam dropped to the bottom, aud as he did so it seemed as though some one drew a curtain over the hole, aud then 1 felt a tremendous blow on the chest, aud was driven backwards and dashed up against the wood scaffolding in the tunnel, 1 suppose 1 was stunned, for I knew nothing more for a bit. Then it seemed as though I was being called, and I sorter woke up ; but everything was dark as pilch aud silent as death, and, feeling heavy and misty and stupid, 1 shut my eyes again, aud felt as if going to sleep, for there didn't seem to be anything the matter with ine. It was as though something had shut up thought and sense in the dark, aud not a wink of light could get in. But there I was in a sort of dreamy comfortable state, and lay there per- fectly still, till a groaning noise roused me, when thought come back with a blinding Hash, and so sharp was that tlusb that my brain seemed scorched, for 1 knew that 1 was buried alive. For a few minutes I stood where I first rose up in a half- stooping position, with my head and shoulders touchiug the poles aud boards above me ; but a fresh groan made me begin to feel about in the darkness, aud try to find out where I was, mid how much room I had to move iu. But that was soou done, for at the bottom there was about a yard space, and as far up as 1 could reach it seemed a couple oi yards, while the other way there was the width of the tunnel. I dared not move much, though, for the earth and broken brickwork kept rolling and crumbling iu, so that every moment the space grew less, and a cold sweat came out all over my face, as I thought that I should soou be crushed and covered completely up. Just then, however, another groan sounded close by me, and for the first time I remembered Sam Carberry, and began feeling about in the direction from whence the sound came. Bricks, bits o' stone, crumbling gravel, the uprights and cross-pieces and bits of board all in splinters, and snapped in two and three pieces, with their ragged ends sticking out of the gravel. But I could feel nothing of Sam, aud I sat down at last, panting as though I had been running, and there was the red drops a-rolling off me, while I drew every breath that heavy that I grew wild with horror and fear; for it seemed as though I shouldn't be able to breath much longer, aod then I must be stifled. It was awful, the thoughts of all that ; and had such an effect on me that I dashed about like a bird in a cage — now here, now there — in mad efforts and struggles to get out. I cried, " Help, help !" and swore and tore about, jumping up and plunging my hands into the earth ; till at last, panting, and bleeding, aud helpless, 1 lay upon the gravel crying like a child. Ah ! That did me good, and seemed to clear my thoughts, and make me mad with myself to think I had been wasting :ny strength so for nothing, when perhaps I might have been doing something towards making my escape ; and while I was thinking like thin, all at once I started, for there was a groan again close to my head ; then, after feeling about a bit, I got my hand upon a bit of broken board, when I fell a groan again, and then, after searching about, found that underneath the board was a face which, by scratching away the earth, I could touch aud feel to be warm. The first thing I did was to start up and strike my head violently against a cross piece, so that I was half stunned ; and then 1 began to feel about for a shovel till I got hold of a handle, and found that the rest was so tightly bedded in the soil, that I must have been a good hour grubbing it out with my fingers. But I kept leaving off to go and sneak to the face, which I knew must be that of Sam Carberry ; and though, poor fellow, it did him no good, he being quite insen- sible, yet it did me good, for there was company — I was not alone — and after leaving off that way now and then, I worked again like a good 'uu till the shovel was at liberty ; for while I was hard at work, I had no time to think about anything else. And now, though I could feel that poor Sam was breathing, he didn't groan ; and I began with the shovel to try and set his face more at liberty ; but at first trial I threw down the tool with a horrible cry, as the loose gravel came rattling down, and in another minute the poor fellow's face would have been completely covered, if 1 had not thrust myself against the earth aud kept it back. If I could only have kept from thinking, I would not have cared ; but now that 1 was forced to keep still and hold up the earth, the thoughts would keep coming thick and fast, and mixed up with them all were coffins — black cloth coffins with wh.te nails ; black coffins with black nails; elm coffins; workhouse shells ; and inside every one of 'em 1 could see myself lying stiff and cold. There was one light grained elm, which looked sometimes quite like a little speck right oil iu the distance, and then came gradually closer, aud closer, and closer, till it seemed as though next moment it would crush me, oi drive me into the earth where I was crouching ; then it would gradually go back further and further, till it was quite a speck again. Then there were processions o' people in black, constantly crowding by. Now aud then there was a noise of a stone falling or a little bit ol rolling earth, else all was as still aud silent as if there wasn't such a thing as hearing. It was so still that the quietness was horrible, aud I began to talk out loud for the sake ol having something to hear ; and then I listened again, hoping to hear the sounds of pick aud spade, fer 1 knew they would be trying to dig us out, ulive or dead. "That'll be it," I says out aloud ; " they'll dig, and dig, and dig till they gets to us ; but then they've got all the stuff to get up the shuft, and shore up again as they goes, and 1 shall be gone long before they gets to me I" Then the horror of death came again, and I leaped np and beat myself about till I was drenched with blood and sweat, aud then I lay still agaiu, with my heart throbbing and beat- ing, and, try what I would, I couldn't get enough breath. I tried to reach the face of my poor mate, aud 1 found it still warm, and that the earth had not settled over it. It was company to be able to touch it, so long as he was alive ; but 1 thought about what must come, aud then shivered as I felt that I should scrape the loose gravel over it, and creep to the far end of the narrow hole. And now I began, for the first time, to think about home, and my two girls, aud their mother ; and there was no comfort there, for I began to won- der what could become of them when I was gone. Quietly as could be, I calculated what my funeral would cost the Odd June 2d) THE CALIFORNIA*?. 5 Fellows, and then about the allowance ther'd be for my people out o' the Widow and Orphan's Fund, and then I thought how things might have been worse than they was. At last of all, I feels quiet and patient like, and, for the first time sinoe I'd been buried, I was down on my knees with my face in my hands. I don't know long I stopped like that, when all at once I fancied I heard a voice speaking, and I started up ; but it sounded no more, and as J sat listening I could see again all things coming and going. Now it was coffins ; now strange- looking beasts and things without any particular shape ; and as they moved, and coiled, and rolled forward, I kept feeling as though they must touch me ; but no, they glided off again, and at last, to keep from thinking, I stripped off coat and waistcoat, and, groping about till I got hold of the shovel, I cried out, " God help me !" and began to try and dig a way out. " Every man for himself," I half-roared, and the curious, stifled sound of my voice frightened me ; but I worked on till I had thrown back a few spadefuls, when I found that I had put it off too long, and that I could do nothing but sink down, panting for air. I couldu't keep off the idea that some- thing was pressing down upon me and trying to force out my breath ; at last this idea got to be so strong that I kept thrusting out my hands and trying to push the something away. I don't kuow how time went, but at last I was lying, worn and helpless, upon the ground, feebly trying to grub or burrow a way out with my fingers. All at once I remembered poor Sara, and, after a good deal of groping about, 1 fouud the board again, and laid ray hand upon his face, but only to snatch it away with a chill running through me, for it was as cold as ice. Then I tried to touch his breast, but soon gave up ; for, with the exception of his face, he was completely bedded in the earth, while the board had ouly saved him at the first moment from instantaneous death. ^ I crept as far off as I could ; for now it seemed that death was very uear me, and that my own time must be pretty well run out. I won't tell you how weak I was again, and how all my past actions came trooping past me. There they all were, from boyhood till the present ; and 1 couldn't help groaning as I saw how precious little good there was in them — ju3there and there a bright spark amongst all the blackness. At last, I began to think it was all over, lor a heavy stupid faintness came over me, and 1 battled against it with all my might ; but it was like — to me, there, in that darkness — like a great bird coming nearer and nearer with heavy shadowy wings ; and, as I tried to drive it off, it went back, but only to come again, till at last the place seemed to fade away ; for after groping round and round the place such a many times, I seemed to see and know every bit of it as well as if I saw it with my eyes, till it faded away, and all seemed to be gone. Nex' thing as I remembers is a dull " thud thud-thudding" noise, and it awoke me up so that I sat holding my head, which ached as though it would split, and trying to recollect once more where I was ; and I s'pose ray poor mind must have been a bit touched, for I could make nothing out until I had crawled and felt, about a few times over, when once more it all came back with a flash, and I remember thinking how much better it would have been if I had kept half stunned, for now I knew what the noise was, and I could hardly con- tain the hope, which seemed to drive me almost mad. Would they get to me before I was dead ? Could I help them ? Would they give up in despair, and lpave me ? I lay listening to the " thud-thud-thud," till all at once it stopped, and the stillness that succeeded was so awful that I shrieked out, for I thought they had given up digging. But the dull distant sound roused me again, and once more I lay listening and counting the spadefuh that I knew were being laboriously and slowly thrown out. Now I was crying weakly, now foaming at the mouth, every now and then the noise could not be heard ; at last, when I could just faintly bear the sound of voices and tried to shout in reply, I found I couldn't do more than whisper. All at once the earth came caving in again, and I was half buried. Weak as I was, it took me long enough to get free, and to crawl up and sit behind an upright post or two, and it was well I did, for no sooner was I there than the gravel caved in again, and I heard a shout ; saw a flash of light ; and then was jammed close into the corner, and must have been suffocated but for the wood framing about me, which kept the earth off. But as I set wedged in, I could hear the sound of the shovels and picks, and I knew how men would toil to get out a brother-workman. And now, feeling quite helpless and resigned, I tried my best to pray for my life, or, if uot, for mtrcy for what I had done wrong. " Ain't nobody here ?" said a voice, as it seemed to me in the dark, and I could not speak or cry for help. " Mast be," said another voice. '• Poor chap's under them planks!" And then come that sound of shovels again, and then a loud hurraying, and I felt hands about me, and that I was being carried, and something trickled into my mouth. Then voices were buzzing about me more and more, and I began to feel able to breathe, and I heard some one say : " He's coming to ;" and then oDe spoke and I knew I was being taken up the shaft ; but all was as it were in a dream, till 1 heard a loud scream, and felt two arms round me, and knowing that now I was saved indeed, I tried to say — " Thank God !" but could only think it. After a bit I managed to speak, but I suppose I said all sorts of foolish unconnected things, till I asked the time, when the voice that revived me so, whispered in my ear that it was nearly three. " And how long was I there ?" I got out at last. " Twenty-five hours !" WHAT THE PARIS GRAND OPERA COSTS. £ £ O PIRIDION," in the Boston Saturday Evening Gazette O says : " Some time since the orchestra of the Grand Opera complained of their wretched pay. The manager told them he could do nothing as the Grand Opera was a clear loss to the Emperor of twenty or forty thousand dollars a year, and he, the manager, could not think of asking the Emperor to increase this loss, which, as it was, bore heavily on the privy purse. The orchestra told the manager if he did not increase their salary they would play inaudibly. He paid no attention to their threat and they carried it into execution. The irritation of the public assumed such a menacing height the matter was laid before the Emperor, and be authorized the Minister of his Household to say to the orchestra that if they would return to their duty he would attend to their com- plaints and see what redress could be afforded. They took the hint, and recently the Minister acquainted them his Majesty had been pleased to increase their salary fifty dollars apiece. Their disappointment was great. They had reckoned on the imperial bounty to raise them to an easy independence of fortune. The dole did not sensibly lessen their pains. In the moment of annoyance they wrote a letter to Marshal Vaillant (the Minister of the Imperial Household) which be deemed impertinent and ungrateful ; and which consequently made him extremely angry. He went directly to the Emperor (the Marshal lives in the Tuileries) and read him the letter. It raised the Emperor's wrath as high as it bad done the Mar- shal's, and upon the latter making the suggestion to transform the Opera into an ordinary imperial theatre (it is now a por- tion of the Emperor's household) his Majesty not only gave his consent, but ordered the decree to be prepared forthwith and to be published in the Evening Moniieur. This is a penny paper which heretofore has been but an echo of the official organ. The decree was at once prepared and sent to the Evening Moniieur. It was said the manager of the Grand Opera knew nothing of it until he saw it in this newspaper. This is a mistake. Marshal Vaillant sent for him aud informed him of the Emperor's decision. It is said to have taken him extremely by surprise, and he asked if it was directed against him personally. " There had been a few evenings before a dreadful uproar at the Grand Opera. Yillaret was announced to appear in La Juive. He was suddenly taken ill and a provincial tenor who had repeatedly solicited the manager for a hearing was asked to fill the vacant place. Mathieu (this was the candidate's name) declined, he said he could not sing without a rehearsal, without even going over the opera with the leader of the or- chestra. The manager said : " Fortune offers you her flood tide — take it, you may be borne to fame and wealth ; snch opportunities rarely occur." Mathieu over-persuaded by these suggestions, agreed to siug. He spent all day running about town in search of costumes, and when evening came he was exhausted by fatigue. The audience who expected to hear Villaret were furious to find an unknown candidate. No offer was made to return money. The moment the poor substitute appeared a great tumult arose which even the fall of the cur- tain and the return of money failed to appease. The police found their presence necessary, and even they who are accus- tomed to allay our popular storms as easily as Neptune tames winds and waves of ocean, failed to restore order although they had the gas turned off. Yillaret's sudden illness, and Mathieu's unexpected appearance were not the sole causes of the storm. " The subscribers to the Grand Opera have for some time been extremely angry with the manager for his obstinacy in playing L' Africaine uight after night, and forgiving them — if by chance Meyerbeer's posthumous work reposed — other operas and never a ballet. Subscribers think the Grand Opera a temple of the ballet, and operas cannot be played other than as exceptional business— anchovy paste intended to increase the relish of dances by girls whose dresses end before they may well be said to have begun. Furthermore, the manager knows he passes in the Imperial Household for a sour, obsti- nate, majestic fellow, because — but here the ground ends and very slippery ice commences. Excuse me if I decline putting ray foot on it. If you will remember the dissolute morals of this country, the fascination of women on the stage, and the restlessness of vanity of actress and dancing-girls and their ' protectors,' you may pierce my silence and discover the words which lie unuttered on my tongue's end. The manager (who had not seen the orchestra's letter) suspected the decree was aimed at him. Marshal Vaillant assured him it was not. He then asked, if he should appear as a candidate, what would be his chances of success. Marshal Vaillant declined answering this question, further than to say his chances would be as good, if not better, than those of anybody else. The man- ager, not satisfied with this reply, at once solicited audience of the Emperor. I am ignorant of the result of the audience. A great many candidates are in the field. I am told the antechamber of the Minister of the Emperor's Household is literally filled with them. A dozen names are before the public, several score of people are intriguing in the dark. Dr. Veron's name has been mentioned, but he has replied : ' I undertake the Opera ! Were I forty years younger, and with- out a sou, I might think of such a thing ; I should be de- lighted to fulfil the first condition and very sorry to find my- self in the latter condition — as I am in neither, I decline appearing as a candidate.' It is said he and Mons. Delabonte offered to deposit the one hundred thousand dollars surety- money for Nestor Roqueplan, whom rumor places on the list of candidates. " A writer who has for many years been hehind the scenes draws this picture of the life of the manager of the Grand Opera. It is curious : Complaint is made that the manager of the Grand Opera denies himself to everybody. I can understand very well how a man who, besides his private re- lations of husband, father, kinsman, has on his hands music, dancing, the old operas, the opera in rehearsal, the ambassa- dor who patronizes a thin dancing-girl, the prince who pro- tects a fat songstress, the minister who wants to see him on business, the hostile newspapers, and all other things, has not always time to receive a prizeman of the School of Fine Arts who wishes to propose a cantata for some anniversary ; a chemist who has discovered a new mode of lighting theatres and asks leave to make an experiment in the opera house : an inventor whose scheme is to establish machinery under the pit to veutilate the house ; a spectator of the last perform- ance, who comes to get his lost umbrella ; a veiled lady who refuses to give her name, but must absolutely see the man- ager and nobody else ; the mother of a little dancing-girl who comes to complain that the ballet-master does not treat her daughter with sufficient respect ; a German who has the man- uscript of an unpublished opera by Mozart ; a plumber who has a superb tenor's voice and asks to be sent to the Con- servatory at the Opera's expense ; a college chum of the manager, who wishes to bid him good day ; thirty loungers who have absolutely nothing to say, but who like to smoke the manager's cigars in the manager's private room, see the women come and go, and get, if opportunity offers, a parquet stall for the evening performance. To be a manager of the Opera, one must be as modest as a prompter, disdaining no detail, able to superintend the magazine of costume and scenery, knowing how to measure a yard of silk, a back- ground scene aud a sliding scene, or with resignation enough to see several hundred thousand francs go to profit-and-losa on these items alone. When he conies out of the third story under ground he must put on a white cravat, become a fine gentleman who is patient, well-bred, and has at his fingers' ends phrases which seem to promise things he cannot perform. After he has received ambassadors and princes (including princes who write music) and influential subscribers, he must go the rounds in the green-room, where legs and throats are practising, reply to all demands and complaints ; hear pa- tiently the anger of a dancing-girl who threatens to send ' her general ' alter him ; calm a songstress who vows she will not sing unless she is ' called out ' after the second act, and conciliate all the superintendents of music, chorus, dancing, machinery, etc. Before he is through all this he receives a despatch brought by a draeoon ; it is from the Minister of the Imperial Household. The fine and courteous gentleman must now become a diplomatist ; he must negotiate, struggle, retreat and bend without losing an inch of ground. He is ordered to let Mile. So-and-so make her appearance, or to bring out an opera from a crowned head. It would be impol- itic to refuse ; he must agree, and afterwards elude the order and secretly raise up obstacle after obstacle which will prove fatal. As far as art is concerned, the manager of the Grand Opera cannot move one step forward. An opera is brought him by an unknown composer. He must distrust him and say : ' Go elsewhere and show of what stuff you are made.' If it is by a popular composer, he makes the opera company study it, and he plays it without knowing what he is doing. He cannot do here as if he was the manager of a dramatic theatre — read a piece, have it studied, say this is well, that is bad, this is too long, that is too short. A box conies from Berlin ; it contains the score of L Africaine. The manager says to his singing-master and leader of the orchestra : ' Set to work.' He has nothing else to do with it. As for his singers and songstresses, his position is the same. A songstress comes from Vienna, Naples or Milan with a made or exagger- ated reputation. What can the manager do but try her? She fails Thereupon everybody exclaims : ' This manager is an unlucky dog!' If he refuses to let her appear, people and newspapers say : 'The manager is the puppet of a miserable clique ; will you believe he has refused to allow the celebrated Gargorilla to appear at the (Jrand Opera?' " 6 THE CALIFORNIAN. | June 2d THE FLOWER GIRL OF THE PALACE GARDEN. "VyANETTE LObLlER was born in Paris, in the parish _LN of Saint Leu. Her father had the care of one of the public squares ; her mother sold fresh fish in the market Nanette was the youngest of sixteen children, with all of whom, us wen as with her parent's, she was a favorite, on ac- count of her pretty 'face, her gentle ways, and artless, winning speech. ' ' ' . . :. ' j rt Tier -r'ambiother, the widow of a bailiff, who had lodgings in tile sarne house with the 'Lolliers, taught her to read and rite, awl trained her Heart and voice, especially the latter, which v, as very musical, charming all who heard it. When she was unly twelve years old, she sung a " Stabat " and a " 0 Feline in one of the churches during Holy "Week, to the great delight and edification of the worshippers. Sfi! bail at this time received so many praises, attentions, and preseuts; that her little head was almost turned. Her mother wished her to betake herself to the Csli market with her. " 'Nanette declared that she had rather sell bouquets and • r..-f lauther answered this natural expression with a 'cuff ami a kick, but the fish monger soon repented her rude- ness. \':.nette disappeared one morning from the paternal roof, and from that day no trace of her could be found by her parent.?, although they sometimes heard that she was well. Tins absence lasted for three years. They afterward tried in every possible way to learn the history of these years from the young girl ; she maintained a profound sileucein the mat- ter. She had promised, on her hope of paradise, that she would never tell what had then taken place ; and neither ca- s nor threats, nor cunning, could draw from her her secret.' .' V . , n*&iw m. avtoifri at emit -sv Lad reached her sixteenth year when an errand-boy iu- formgd' her parents that she was at the Con-vent of the Car- s'; and would be restored to thein if they would go for her in person, or send some priest. The mother was beside herself with joy at this news. She left her fish-trough, put on her best clothes, and went to tell the curate. He accompanied her to the convent, with her eldest Son, a bold, manly fellow, sergeant in the French Guard. Arrived at the Convent, Madam the Superior appeared and gave them a gracious reception^ She told them that the young girl had been brought there one eveniug by a strange woman, and l'eTt with a sum of twenty thousand livres to pay her dowry' when she should become a nun. . All this seemed dubious to the curate and mother. Nauette appeared. She wept and sobbed, and nearly fainted. But she was silent to all their inquiries, further than to tell them of Iter aversion to a uuunery, and her desire to be a flower- girl. The Lady Superior,. seeing that the girl and her dowry were lost to her, made her adieus to the family and took her leave. The curate went to visit a friend in the neighborhood, and tfU mother,, the pretty ^Nanette, and her fighting brother returned home in a hackney -coach. The Lolliers at first refused to let Nanette become aflower- "girl, but she desired it so much that at last they yielded, Her success was marvellous. Every one was charmed by her, and bought her flowers. She made her entrance into the garden of the royal palace. A strange flower-girl. She was dressed in silks, gauzes, laces, and jewels. Her basket was a gilded sea-shell, lined »vith blue satin and field by a blue sash that encircled her waist. Her I ■ .. lio'esi fastened by a buckle and favor-knot, covered the fool of a nymph-,, Nanette was talked of at Versailles. Thirty lords of the court rivalled each other in attempts to win her favor. She refused their hearts and took their presents. She was ready, gay, full' of zest.'ab'd chatted with spirit, yet maintained so much reserve that she gained in reputation as fast as in fortune.' Every morning when she appeared in the Palace Garden, a circle at once gathered around her. Servants in livery and a waiting-woman attended her at a distance, ready to refill her little fiaskct, which was rapidly emptied. She received more louis than Mnall coin in exchange for the flowers that were so gracefully' offered by her pretty hand. The Priifcesses^of Lorraine, Jjohen, and Bouillon, ladies of high rank, 'accepted the pinks, roses and violets which the flower-girl presented them as gifts. In return they gave her laces'; and wrought silver. In two years Nanette had a fortune in lands and houses which brought her forty thou- sand lrv'res.in rent. a'nd she had bestowed largely upon her brothers and sisters. Among her lovers was a young man of twenty-two. He was always in the garden before she arrived, and seemed to I liting for her. When sin; appeared with her basket, he ti ; a bjijquet, paid lies twelve sous, said a few words, aud • d. So one saw him again until the next day. It was twice that he failed to appear at the usual hour ; an attack of fever had coufined him to his bed. Nauette was dull and gloomy; The young man reappeared, and with him the gaiety of Nauette. Nanette would have "iven n hir<re part of her fortune to have known who the young man was. She wa3 ignorant even of his name. It is true that she might have asked the thou- sand persons who came to buy flowers ot her during the day, but no sooner had she begun her question than she felt a mortal embarrassment, stammered, blushed, and ended in silence. Her heart was too much interested. She was sure that he whom she loved was of noble birth ; he wore a sword. But he was poor, for his sword had never a ribbou-knot, aud his neckerchief was without lace. One day she saw the brilliant Marquis of Louvois speaking to him, and then he joined the Count of Chatre, who was sitting near, and said in a low tone : " That simpleton, Courtenay, provokes me. The King has been asking why he does not' go to Versailles. I have just repeated his .Majesty's compliments to him and — ah, well! he is busy with a song. How can he bury himself in Paris in this way?" " He has good reasons for it. Besides, Where could he get the money we spend ? IJis father has ruined him." " True enough, ho is poor. What a pity ! such a fine young fellow !" " And one of such birth — a relative of the royal house." " Why don't the young man marry?" " It would be impossible for him. With his name he could not marry an inferior. He would have to marry a princess." Nanette did not lose a single word. She left the palace garden and forgot to go, as usual, to the Tuileries and Boule- vard. She could think of nothing but the noble and unfortu- nate young man. At night she could not sleep, and the next morning had left her bed long before any one else in the house. She was sitting alone, so rapt in her dreams of the Prii.ce of Courteuay that she did not hear the steps of a young man who approached her, stooped and kissed her arm. She was startled and gave a scream, but on looking up a pleasant smile succeeded her surprise. The rash youth was her favorit6 brother, Marcel, only a year older than herself. He was employed at the office of a leading publishing house, where he frequently saw the men of letters or that day. " Why, Marcel," said the young girl, "how you frightened me ; I did not expect such gallantry from my brother." " What brother would not be proud of such a sister, Na- nette, who is the talk of Paris ? Wherever one goes, it is 'Nanette, the flower-girl,' ' the pretty Nanette.' Yestepiay, I went to the house of M. Diderot, to carry some copy that he wanted for correction. Some noble lords were there, among whom was the Prince of Courteuay. They did not know that I was your brother, and were under uo restraint about speaking of you in my hearing. One of them denied your virtue. I was so angry that I was about to take up your detence, when the excellent young Prince of Courteuay nobly replied : '• 'Oh, my lord, how can you repeat the odious calumnies invented by worthless libertines ? Nauette is as pure as she is beautiful, and I want no other proot than the history of ' , i.w i! c.if 'H ie'i. igtYptH 1 ' ira the lovers she is said to have, of whom no one kuou-s any- thing. If Nanette hud a lover, it would not be a day before all Paris would know the name of the fortunate man.' " The warm and earnest tone with which these words wer. spoken excited a smilf; Irom those who heard it. M. Diderot sustained the Prince." The simple-hearted Marcel concluded by saying : " Now, would it not be proper, in gratitude lor the good opinion he has of you, that you should send the Prince a bouquet of the rarest flowers? I will carry it to him, if you like, ior I am going to him with a splendid copy of our tolio edition of 'lelenuicliusi." "You are goiug to him ! You kuow where he lives .''' exclaimed Nanette. " Certainly ; in the Hotel Curnavalet." When Marcel had goue. Nauette lost no time in writing the following epistle : " My dear young friend, I am yonr relative. I am pained that you are not in your prupt r place. Is it lit that you should live in obscurity in Pans, wlieii persons ol meaner birth are the delight of Versailles? You are poor; 1 am rich. My age cuts me of! from the exciting pleasure that yours demands. Permit me, in consideration of our relations of blood and friendship, to oiler you what is for me a superfluity, for you a necessity. On the first day of every month you will receive from me lour thousand livrus. 1 now seud you tweuty-four thousand, which will perhaps be sufficient to establish you according to your rank." A few expressions of kindness closed the letter, which was left unsigned, and a few hours after it was received by the Priuce of Courteuay. The modest young man at first rtlused to accept a fortune so received ; but several of his older friends, whom he consulted, blamed him for an excess of delicacy, lie yielded to their advice aud applied it to his own use. He was now rich. He lived in splendor ; his equipage was one of the finest in Paris, and every one was talking of his good for- tune. He was the rage ; yet every day, at the sauie hour as before, be came to the palace garden to buy a bouquet of Nauette, for which he now paid six livres. A year rolled away. One day, the Count of Chatre being in the garden, seated near Nauette, the Marquis of Louvois joiued him. '• My dear sir,'' he addressed the Count, " Courteuay is mad. They have offered bird Mademoiselle de Craon with eight hun- dred thousand livres a year, and he refuses. What ails him ?" " Love." " Love ! For whom ?" "I know not." '■Who can it be ? I'll wager it's some girl of the opera. Some worthless woman of pleasure." " Louvois," answered the Count, " such a supposition is un- just to Courteuay. You know he has always hated vice, and I am certain that the woman he loves is not only charming but virtuous." Louvois answered with a laugh ; and Nanette arose to re- turn home. She went to her chamber and locked the door. The next day the Prince of Courteuay received a letter which rau thus : " My dear young friend, why do you refuse to marry Mad- emoiselle de Craon ? She would bring you both birth and for- tune. In two days, you will receive from me the capital of the sum you now enjoy — aud with it some jewels for your, fu- ture bride. " Should you consent to the proposed marriage, wear a pink in your button-hole for eight days ; should you refuse it, wear a rose." The next day Nanette gave orders *.o her man of business to sell a million livres worth of hous?s and lands ; there would still remain to her thirty thousand livres of income. When she had received the money from this sale, she sent it to Courtenay, and with it, in a magnificent casket, a set of diamonds of such rare water that the jewellers valued them at a hundred thousand crowns. Never was Nanette so happy as when she had thus diminished her fortune. Nothing could have detaiued her from the Palace Garden that day. She was pale, trembling, half-dead with hope and fear. The Prince de Courtenay had, as usual, arrived before her ; but in his button-hole there was neither pink nor rose. He approached Nanette and she handed him a bouquet. It was like the Prince's button hole, without pink or rose. He looked at it and a smile passed over his face. He seemed studying a moment, then in a firm voice, he said : " My pretty child, will you make me a present of a rose?" Nanette fell fainting. . . On recovering, she found her- self in her own chamber surrounded by her family. Alas ! her eyes did not meet those she most wished to see. Her mother aud sisters in their excitement told her that she had fairJted id the palace garden ; that a great lord, the Prince of Courtenay, had lifted her in his arms and without waiting for a carriage, without wishing any one to help him, bad carried her to her hotel. Nanette's pulses throbbed with pleasure. She asked what had become of the kind nobleman. They told her that ho had waited to hear the opinion of the physi- cians concerning her, and had then departed as he cajne. At this moment Marcel entered to Bay that the servant of Prince de Courtenay had come to obtain tldiDgS of the beautiful flower girl. . . The Prince had not come. And yet Nan- ette smiled — For she was happy — knowing ns she did that the Prince did not wish to marry. The next day, Nanette's favorite waiting-woman came to announce to her that the Prince de Courtenay was in her drawing room are! asked the favor of an interview. A sign of consent was the only answer of Na- nette. Making an effort to rise, she fell back powerless, cov - ering her face with her bauds. The Prince fell on his knees before her and tenderly kissed her hands. " Ah," he exclaimed, " I have divined everything. I have come not to return your gifts, but to beseech you to render them still dearer by granting me one far more precious." " You wish — ■" began Nanette. " 1'our hand," interrupted the Prince. In ottering his name to the young girl, he had tried to sur- pass her in geuerosity. Nanette prayed him to wait till the next day for her reply. lie consented, full of hope. For the third time he received a letter from Nanette. It was the last time she ever wrote him, and contained these words : " Love" has made you blind. A marriage with me would dishonor you. You love me too well to renounce me. I therelore, for your sake, renounce you. When you thali have received this letter, the flower girl Nanette will have forever quitted the world. 1 leave to my parents that part of my fortune which I have gained by selling flowers. The million you have received was your own. Your nearest relative thought to make amends by it for a crime which J have sworn to keep an eternal secret. Adieu. Think otlen of her who in the cloister where she hides herself will daily pray for you." Tho story of Nanette ends here. No one knew more of her except that the archbishop of Paris himself conducted her to the convent to which she retired. Tho Prince of Courtenay never married. He recalled the rumors he had heard touching his father, but none of them explained his mysterious ruin, or his later remorse.— Boston Eve. Gazette. L\- one of tho Western States there was a certain church whose members were not exactly a uuit on the subject of immersion. At a meeting of church officers, on one occasion, a certain person, not remarkable for purity of life, sent in a request for admission into their fold. One of the committee— a rather rough man— on hearing the name of the individual, exclaimed : "That man ! Well, if that man is to be admitted, he uiie;lit to sua/c oventiijhU" June 2d) THE CALIF ORNIAN. MY LUCK IN A TUNNEL. I AM an old miner. Not one of the now-a-day Washoe and Nevada stripe, bat an old Forty-nine California miner. I have been engaged in all descriptions of mining transactions, except the newfangled one of mining stock in companies — " feet," I believe they call it. Among my varied undertakings was one operation in a tunnel, in which I and my partners engaged, in the summer of 1852. One afteruoou in that year, as I was carrying up a bucket of water from the river to our 'tent at the top of the bank, my foot caught under a large stone, and my perpendicular was at once changed to a horizontal posture, while the water from the overturned bucket spread itself in various directions. With a few expletives of rather forcible character, quite cus- tomary and common iu that region aud period, I raised myself to my feet again, and picking up the bucket, was about to retrace my steps to the river, when my attention was attrac- ted by a folded paper, which bad been under the stone caus- ing my fall. When my foot tripped, the stone was over- turned, and the paper, folded in letter-form, lay exposed to view. Bending over, I picked it up, and proceeded to examine it. It was written with a pencil, in charcters very irregular and stiffly formed, as if made by a person with a wounded hand. The contents were as follows : " If this letter should fall into the hands of any person. I wiah to inform him that I have been attacked and mortally wounded by my two partners, who wished to obtain my money. Failing to discover it, after wounding me, they have fled, leaving me here to die. Whoever gets this letter will find, buried in a ravine at the foot of a ' blazed ' tree, twenty- five paces due north of this, a bag containing five thousand dollars in gold dust. That it may prove more fortunate property to him than it has to me, is the hope of " Andrew Indus." 1 sto'od for some minutes after reading the letter like one awakened from a dream. I could not convince myself that the letter iu my hand was a genuine document, and read it over and over again, thiuking I might get some clue from the handwriting to the real author. It might be a trick got up by my partners, to raise a, laugh at my expense. No ; the place whore it was found, aud the purely accidental discovery, rendered such a surmise very improbable. I sat down on a log, and turned the matter over and over in my mind for some time. At last 1 got up, and pacing off the required distance in the direction mentioned in the letter, I came to a large tree. Carefully examining it. I discovered a scar, clearly indi- cating that the tree had been " blazed " at some remote period. This wa3 " confirmation strong as proofs of Holy Writ," and 1 immediately undertook to discover the locality of the ravine. Here I was at fault. Nothing of the kind was to bo seen. To all appearance?, a stream of water never had passed in the neighborhood of the tree. This was not encouraging ; and I sat down on the ground and rend the letter again, to see if I had not mistaken some of its direc- tions. No; I was in the right place, but where was the ravine ? A tap on my shoulder aroused mo from my meditations, and looking up, I saw my two partners, who loudly berated me for having neglected the preparation of their supper. As an excuse, I showed them the letter, and detailed the manner of my finding it. To my surprise, they were as much excited by its perusal as I had been, and we all looked around perse- veringly for the raviue, but without effect for some time. At last, Jack Nesbitt, who had been a miner since '48, said : j] I think there has been a raviue here, but it has been filled up by the raius." On close examination, wo decided that his supposition was correct, and after some consultation we determined that wo would commence digging the next morning. Morning came, and we repaired to the spot with pick and shovel. Jack proposed that we should follow the course ol the ravine, which appeared to run into the body of the hill, rather than to dig down, for, as he said, we would be more likelv to find the bag in the bed of the ravine, by following it up, than by digging down in any one place. . The result was, that in a few days we had formed quite a cave in the side of the hill. We worked at this tunnel for four days without findiug the bag. On the fourth day, Jack proposed that he aud my other partner. Bill Jennings, should carry the dirt we had excavated down to the river, and wash it, leaving me to dig iu the tun- nel. In that way, they thought, we might at least " make grub," whilo searching for the hidden money. I thought the idea foolish, but, as they had entered so eagerly into myviews regarding the buried bag of dust, I made no objection to the plan, and dug away with redoubled energy. Iu fact, I had thought so much about the object of our search, that I had become utterly regardless of almost everything else. I had dreamt of it when sleeping ; mused on it when waking, and it had obtained complete control of my mind. Day after day we worked — I digging, my companions washing ; yet, strange to say, I did not become discouraged. They said nothing about the bag of gold dust : and I asked them nothing about the result of their washing the excavated dust. We had worked about three weeks, and had formed a tun- nel extending about fifteen feet into the hill, when, one after- noon, completely tired out, I sat down to rest in the cave. I had only intended to sit a littlo while, but five minutes had not elapsed before I was fast asleep. I was awakened by a crash, and found my feet and legs completely covered by a mass of dirt nnd stones. The front part of the tunnel had fallen in, and I was in a manner buried alive. About ten feet of the tunnel remained firm, and, from my observation of its structure prior to the accident, I was convinced that I had no reason to apprehend any danger in that quarter. My partners had carried dirt enough to the river to keep them busy there for the rest of the day ; so I had nothing to hope from their assistance. The question that first presented itself to my mind was, how long can life be sustained in this confined state ? I had read, a dozen times, statistics in relation to the amount of air consumed hourly by a human being's lungs, but, like almost everybody else, had merely wondered at the time, and then forgot the figures. How much I would have given then to be: able to recall them ! The next thought was. how can I proceed to extricate myself? This question was difficult of solution. If I went to work with shovel and pick to clear away the dirt that had fallen, it was extremely likely that all which I should be able to remove would be immediately re- placed by that which would fall from above. This was pleas- ant 1 I racked my brain to devise some meat s of liberating myself, but without effect. Leaning against the wall in utter despondency, I was about to throw myself on the ground and await my fate, when I observed that quite a current of water, on a small scale, was making its way down the side of the cave.- At first I was alarmed, as 1 thought it might loosen the earth above and bring another mass down on my head. The next moment, the thought struck me that it might be turned to my advantage. Why could I not so direct it that it would wash away sufficient earth iu its progress to the out- let of the cave to admit the air, and perhaps make an opening large enough to allow me to crawl out through it? Even if I only succeeded in making an air hole, it would enable me to exist till my partners could come to my assistance. Carefully exnmining the course of the water, I succeeded in finding the spot where it entered the cave, and to my great joy ascertained that I could easily direct it, by cutting a channel out of the side of my prison to the mass of earth that blocked up the entrance to the tunnel. The air at this time was quite close and stifling, and I became aware that whatever was done must be done quickly, or I should perish from want of oxygen. After I had cut a channel for the water to flow toward the entrance, I enlarged the opening by which the stream entered the cave, and was delighted to observe that it flowed with re- doubled force. Taking my shovel, I pushed it through the moistened earth as far as I was able, and then awaited the further action of the water. In a few minutes 1 was enabled to push it still further, till at last it was out of my reach. Then, placing my pick-handle against it, I pushed both as far as I could. With what eagerness did I watch to see the first opening made by the water ! At first it was swallowed up by the earth, but 1 was soou gratified by observing that it flowed in a steady stream in the direction iu which 1 had pushed the pick aud shovel. In a few minutes I discovered a faint glimmering in the dis- tance, which might be an opening or the effect of an excited imagination, 1 scarcely knew which. But the doubt soou re- solved itself into certainty, and an opening some five inches in diameter speedily disclosed itself. Larger and larger the opening grew ; lump after lump of earth was washed away by tbe stream, till the chaune! became large enough lor me to place my head iu it and halloo lustily for assistance. Just as I was drawing my head back, I'caught sight of a buckskin bag. Hastily seizing it, I found that it was the one we had been in search of, and which, but for the accident, I would never have found. Wishing to surprise my comrades, I cou- cealed it, and redoubled my cries. In a few minutes they came running up the hill, and soon liberated me from my un- pleasant position. " Well, Ned," said Jack, as he shook me by the hand, " I'm glad you're safe, old fellow — tiie more so, as Bill and I have been deceiviug you a little. You know we have been trying all'the summer to get you to go into a tunneling operation, and you have only laughed at us ?" " Ye3," said I, wondering what would como next. " Well, when you found that letter, Bill and I made up our minds that we would go into the job with you ; not in the hope of finding any bag, but because we knew you would work twice as hard with such an inducement, intending, meanwhile, to wash the excavated dirt. This wo have done ; and, my boy, we have never made less than three hundred dollars any day since we commenced." " Then you think the bag a humbug, do you ?" " Why, of course," said he. " Well, I don't, and I intend to go on looking for it." " Now, what's the use of being foolish," quoth Hill Jen- nings. " We've got as much dirt as we can wash for some time, and it pays. I can't see the use of continuing such a wild-goose chase as the hunt for that bag." . " Be that as it may," said I, " I intend to follow it up." Bill and Jack conferred together a while, aud then the former said : " Well. Ned, we might as well tell you first as last. I. wrote that letter in order to get you to go into tunneling." " And the ' blazed ' tree," said I, " how about that? The ' blaze ' is certainly two years old." Jack hesitated. " Why, you see," said he, " we found that tree, and wrote the letter to suit it." " Then what do you think of this?" asked I, showing him the bag I had found in the cave Jack was nonplussed. On opening the bag, we found about three thousand dollars. Jack never would own up, but always insisted that the variance between the statement' in the letter and the amount in the bag was proof enough that the letter and it had no connection with each other. I don't think so, however, and I believo that Jack's assertion of having written the letter was^untrue. We never could ascertain anything about Mr. Indus, so we divided the money among us. Local Anaesthesia. — An important addition to the men. la of diminishing pain has been made by an English physician, who ha3 introduced a new method of producing local insensi- bility to the knife. Chloroform robs the most terrible surgi- cal procedures of the worst horrors which formerly surrounded them, and has even rendered possible some operations which could hardly have been attempted without it; but it has its own peril — the peril of death. Surgeons justly encourage their patients, by reciting to them the statistics of fatal acci- dents under chloroform, which, incomplete though they be, . demonstrate the extreme rarity of such misfortunes. It has, however, been observed by all authors who have collected these cases, that a remarkably large proportion of the recorded deaths have occurred where only minor operations have been contemplated. Hence a rapid and efficient means of produc- ing local aiuusthesia, and one free from any of the constitu- tional risks attending the administration of chloroform, is a boon of great price. Dr. B. W. Richardson effects this re- sult by dividing on the skin a fiuely divided spray of puro ether, using an ingenious modification of the spray tubes, lately much in vogue a3 toys for diffusing perfumes. A rapid blanching of the skin, and insensibility to pain, follow in from about thirty seconds to two minutes. Upwards of a hundred operations have within the last lew weeks been painlessly con- ducted under this method. It is only likely to be generally useful for superficial operations ; but these are so often uiiue -- goue at the cost of great terror aud anguish, through dread of the risks of chloroform, that the value of this invention mus', be very great. " Mark Twain," in one of his letters to the Union, men- tions a singular character ho met with while visiting the Government Prison at Honolulu : We were next introduced to General George Washington, or, at least, to an aged, limping negro man, who called himse'i' by that honored name. He was supposed to be seventy yearn old, and he looked it. He was as crazy as a loon, and some- times, they say, he grows very violent. He was a Samson in a small way; his arm3 were corded with muscle, and his legs felt as hard as if they were made of wood. He was in it peaceable mood at present, and strongly manacled. The/ have a hard time with him occasionally, and some time or other he will get in a lively way and eat up the garrison of that prison, no doubt. The native soldiers who guard the place are afraid of him, and he knows it. His history is a sealed book — or at least all that part of it which transpired previously to the entry of his name as a pensioner upon the Hawaiian Government fifteen years ago. He was found carrying on at a high rate at one of the other slands, and it is supposed he was put ashore there from 6 vessel called the Olive JJrunc/i. He has evidently been an aid sailor, and it is thought he was one of a party of negroes who fitted out a ship and sailed from a New England port some twenty years ago. lie is fond of talking, in his dreamy, incoherent way, about the Blue llidge iu Virginia, and seems familiar with Hichmoud and Lynchburg. I do not think he is the old original General W. At the time of the threatened invasion of Scotland by tho French, the laird of Logan was taunted at a meeting at Ayr with a want of loyal spirit at Cumnock, as no volunteers had been raised there. Cumnock is on a high station ten or twelve miles from the coast. " What sort of people are you, up at Cumnock ?" said au Ayr gentleman, " you have not a single volunteer." " Never you heed,'.' said Logan quickly, " if tlic French land at Ayr, there will soou be plenty of voluntccrr, uj) al Cumnovk /" A youno lady went into a book-store, recently, for the purpose of purchasing a piece of music entitled, " When i sleep, I dream of thee," but by one of those ludicrous mi - takes which will sometimes happen in the best families, she astonished the young man by inquiring if ho had the mui-ie entitled, " When I dream, I sleep with thee !" The mistake brought a modest blush to the cheek of the fair enquirer — ditto the young gentleman. s THE C ALIFORN1AN. | June 2d NO T1CE. The publication of "The California* "' takes place on Saturday mornings, and copies may be obtained in the City at all News stands, and of our News agents through' tlie country. It will also be served by carriers on the morning of publication. White & Bauer, News Dealers, No. 413 Washington street, are General Agents for The Califoknian in the interior counties oj this State , also, for the adjacent States and Territories. letters relating to the Business, Editorial or other Depart- ments of tlie paper should be addressed to the Publishers of The ai.ifornian, No. 532 Merchant street, San Francisco. THE CALIFORNI AN. SAN FRANCISCO, SATURDAY, JUNE 2, 1866. Full volumes of The Californian, from the commenc ement, can be obtained at the office, 532 Merchant street. Price, in muslin, $4 per volume; two volumes (one year) bound together, §6. Uubouud, per volume, $2 50. COMMODORE JOHN BODGE BS AND THE BOMBARDMENT OP THE CITY OF VALPARAISO. THE navy of the United States has, since its organization, deservedly sustained a high reputation for discipline, gallantry, and a chivalrous readiness to redress wrongs, no matter by whom and upon whom they were sought to be imposed. If any fault could be found, it was with their too ready promptitude in mediation and interference. It has always been asserted they were too quick with their interposi- tion and that they forgot consequences under those impulses which are the distinctive indications of a high-strung courage. They have felt, too, that they could always, wheD their pur- pose evinced courage and loyalty to high principle, albeit not within the scope of orders and prudence, rely upon the sup- port of a noble, enthusiastic, and generous people who would Btand between them and governmental disapproval. When in the Bay of Smyrna an Austrian brig-of-war held in custody a man who claimed to be an American citizen, and as such entitled to demand the protection of the flag, Ingra- ham gave notice that if Koszta was not released in eight hours, he wonld take him by force. He could not determine whether a mere declaration of an intentiou to become a citi- zen was of itself sufficient, in a legal point of view to author- ize him to interfere ; he simply heard the appeal from one who had taken the initial steps to citizenship, and he pursued a course which proved him to be intrepid and patriotic. Neither did the American people pause to inquire as to the legal status of the case. All that was left where it properly belonged — to diplomacy and the government ; they, by meetings and through the press, declared that Iugrahain showed, what they love, pluck; and it was Ingraliain and his pluck that settled the whole matter. And when, too, Congress by resolution presented him with a medal for his gallantry, it not only enun- ciated a national principle, but it declared for all those who served the country, especially in a military capacity, a rule and authority for their government in such and analagous cases. When, too, at the mouth of the Peiho, in the attack of the English gunboats od the Chinese forts, Commodore Tatnall moved to their aid, the whole country applauded his act and echoed his noble sentiment — " Blood is thicker than water." Every officer of the navy can rehearse you an hundred exam- ples of this sort which are the leu: non scripta of the service, and which, being traditional, pass from mouth to mouth, stir- ring the blood as Homeric epics did in the primal days of his- tory, filling each breast with that ardor aud desire of emula- tion, without which chivalry and heroism would not be. Offi- cers of the United States navy do not, as a rule, require any incitement ; they ask only for opportunity ; the result, then, is with themselves. The recent bombardment of Valparaiso furnished oue of those instances which naval men pray for, and which do not occur once in a century — an occasion when an armed inter- ference would have been attempted by most officers, whether that interference could have been justified by law or not Law ! What are the principles of law in which the commanders of our ships are educated, and how far shall they control pro- fessional conduct iu the presence and under the provocation of a barbarous exercise of power, and in view of the commis- sion of the cowardly and wanton destruction of a defenceless city ? In such an exigency, which appeals so strongly to all who have the power to restrain and prevent outrages, does an officer pause, and from the precedents of law excuse himself from an endeavor to go behind the emergency, seeking a rule to justify inaction, and looking to discover whether he can find a legal defence for interference? Beady and enthusiastic pluck will never stop while shells hiss destruction to the weak and unarmed, to determine the question of neutrality- Such is not the quality which makes heroes. They spring up under a higher inspiration than can be found in books or In- ternational Law — the inspiration of manhood, of an abhor- rence of tyrannj aud cruelty. They reach out, strike, rescue and defend, and then leave to the respective governments the settlement of the law of the case. It has been well and truly said by high English authority, that an officer was not fit to bear Her Majesty's commission, who was not ready at all times to act for the honor and good of his country and humanity, although, his acts might be illegal, and he rau the risk of being hanged for what he had done. How many are there iu the Navy who would gladly have given commission, and neck even, for the opportunity presented to John Rodgers, in April last, in the harbor of Valparaiso? How, too, an officer of his character for cour- age aud acceptance of responsibility could have kept his fleet idle, under such a temptation, is more than we can compre- hend. It is a pity, and he will confess it one of these days, that he allowed his head to attend in council when he offered to join the English Admiral in interfering with the Spanish bombardment. He says he had_ instructions '* to observe a strict neutrality ;" and yet he offers to "pitch in" if he can get an ally. Will he ever have such an opportunity again ? The war waged against Chili is universally reprobated, is de- clared to be without excuse or justification, aud Spain is without encouragement from auy power on earth. Aye, worse than this, she is denouueed as a conceited braggart, who finds antagonisms only where there is poverty of resource and population, and an entire absence of equality : a nation that knows whom to kick. Her discomfiture would be hailed with joy everywhere, and the means U6ed to that end would be accepted with approbation by all civilized people. Wher ever the news of the bombardnieut has reached, it is charac- terized as disgraceful to the age. and an exhibition of savage and puerile resentment peculiarly Spanish. Besides all this, the relation of the United States as guardian of the South- American republics, and the abhorrence felt by its people for the unjust war carried on by Spain, would have made an inter- ference by John Iiodgers the most accptable offering he could have made his countrymen. We do not ask whether the law is on the side of John Rodgers — whether he had the right to interfere, or not. This is a question ootside our view of the case ; we only wonder he could have debated with himself as to his duty in that emergency. He could have discussed all the questions when he had disposed of the Spanish squadron. He had but one of two courses to pursue — positive neutrality without reference to any other power, or interference with or without the English or French squadrons. What he offered to do with the aid of the other fleets, he should have djne — failing their coaperation — by himself. If his instructions and the advice of our Minister could be violated by an offer to interfere if the French and English did, then they should have had uo influence with him so far as his separate action was concerned. What was wrong in itself could not be cured by dragging allies in with him. Conscious of bis ability to have opposed and beaten the whole Spanish force, after he had received the refusal of the English Admiral, he should have declared to the Spanish commander that he would interfere with all bis strength to prevent the bombardment of a city where no damage would be done, comparatively speaking, ex- cept to the property of neutrals. If he had done this, no warlike shell would have exploded in the streets of that city, aud free, chivalrous and independent people everywhere would not now be mortified al the spectacle of the cruel and unpro- voked destruction of a city in the presence of the superior squadrons of the three great thinking aud powerful nations of this Christian age. For our part, we are sorry our squadron reached Valparaiso when it did, or that Kodgers did not boldly execute alone what he offered to do iu conjunction with others. Had he done so, he might have been dismissed the navy, although we doubt it ; but with the people, the world, and in history, he would have been recognized as a man who dared to consult justice rather than law ; who shielded the weak and unarmed from the as- saults of a strong and unscrupulous enemy, and who was mer- ciful when the Law was cruel. In such cases, an officer ol courage and sensibility will look beyond mere personal risks and considerations ; be will, like a true knight, obey the im- pulse which tells us to succor the feeble and oppressed ; he will do this, and leave his character and life to be vindicated by a civilization which abhors such an outrage as the Spaniard committed in the bay of Valparaiso. Langley's Commercial Directory of the Pacific Coast — A compendium of business firms, statistical and notable mat-, ters ol the towns aud cities of California, Oregon, Nevada, Idaho — we learn is receiving substantial support from the business community of the interior. The want of such a work of reference has long been felt, and we are pleased to state that the enterprise of Mr. Langley is meeting with ade- quate success. An English paper speaking of the Reform Bill, says : "The only epitaph suitable to be inscribed over its remains is one furnished by the verdict of a jury on an Irish coroner's in- quest—' The child was found dead in a cabinet, having been born alive and never breathed, and it died immediately after- wards for want of proper care and assistance at the time of its birth.' " Lord William Lennox's Drafts on My Memory has a new hon mot attributed to Sydney Smith. In writing to a friend, he said : " Unfortunately the house is full of cousins — would they were once removed." NEW PUBLICATIONS. A ROMAN & CO., Nos. 417 and 419 Montgomery • street, seem determined that our citizens shall have no reason to complain of any remissness on their part in sup- plying the demand for literary food. Amotig the works re- cently placed upon our table are the following: Baked Meats of the Funeral: A Collection of Esaays, Po- ems, Speeches, Histories, and Banquets. By Private Miles O'Reilly. New York : Carleton. Charles G. Halpine ("Miles O'Reilly") is one of those roystering, jolly souls which, somehow or other, war throws to the surface, for the purpose, we must suppose, of lessening its horrors by fun and frolic. Campaigning is not, as a rule, the most agreeable and de- lightful way of employing one's self. And so soldiers are left to their own devices and resources lor amusements. A life of this sort brings out every man, it develops individ- ual qualities, and sharpens a talent for wit and fun. As one of the editors ot the New York Leader, Halpine never displayed the extent aud delicacy of humor be has done since he put on the button as an officer of the Sixty-ninth regiment. The volume- in questiou is a very entertaining melange of satire and narration. The lyric " My Strong Wakeness for Widdies," is as clever as auy of Charles O Malley's songs, and full of that expression and sentiment which form the charm of Irish lays. To all those who love keen satirical thrusts and amusing narrative and songs, we recommend Baked Meats of tlie Funeral. Only a Woman's Heart. By Ada Clare. New York : M. Doolady. Ada Clare is clever, although her peculiar power is per- haps best displayed in such newspaper articles as she has been accustomed to write, and by which she is known. We doubt her ability to carry a story through a volume of 336 pages, and also whether she has invention enough to con- struct a plot that requires so much writing to devevelop and sustain it. However, this book is interesting to one who is curious to discover how so eccentric a person as the authoress is can portray that passion and emotion which, it is fair to infer, have been the controlling influences of her life and con- duct. The cursory and rapid examiuatiou we have given this book satisfies us that, as a literary perlormauce, it is a failure. Campaigns of a Non- Combatant, anil his Romaunt Abroad during the War. By George Alfred Townseod. New York : Blelock & Co. If any proor was wanted as to the claim of the American people to be a reading and scribbling nation, it would be abundantly louud in the number of books which have been published since and during the late war — books of campaign- ing, war incidents, narrative and history. This volume is a record of the impressions of a civilian and war-correspondent, of the Army of the Potomac and its operations, the couutry and the people as he saw them, together with personal adven- tures ; all of which unite in making it very readable aud en- tertaining. He tells the story of the whole campaigu which ended in the capture of Richmond, and tells it agreeably and well. We recommend this volume to those of our readers who, at this season of the year, at home or wandering through the country, can fiud a spare hour or two after dinner for reading. Culture of the Grape. By W. C. Strong. Boston : J. E. Til ton & Co. When one remembers how important an element of wealth the culture of the grape is to be to California, he will thank those publishers and authors who contribute any new facts and information that are likely to aid us in our efforts to equal the old countries in the manufacture of wines and brandies. This book is written from the experience of the author, and as a practical treatise, as an instructor in the modes of planting, pruning, and training, will be found to be of great utility to all grape growers. Its description of the varieties, of itself, is worth the price of the book. It is only by an intelligent, scientific, and practical knowledge of this subject that we cau hope to place the grape among the most eminent sources of State and individual wealth. The closest reader and acutest observer among grape cultnrists, will be the most successful. This volume deserves to be in the hands of all those who own vineyards. Memoir of James Louis Peligru. A Biographical sketch, by William J. Grayson. New York : Harper & Bros. This book is printed from the MS. of Grayson, late of Charleston, S. C. It was written, as Ihe preface informs us, during the " privations and anxieties " of the siege of that city, on scraps of old paper ; and the author only completed it a few hours before his death. Independently of its agree- able style, this volume has a touching interest to all loyal men as the biography T>f oue of the very few men of South Caro- lina who opposed secession, and foresaw the ruin and desola- tion it would produce. Short as is this biography, it abounds in many details illus- trative of the life and character of Petigrn, and which fairly represent one who was no less eminent as a lawyer, than honor- June 2d] THE CALIFORNIA^. 9 able aod elevated as a man. In intellectual capacity, assiduity, and professional success, Mr. Petigru was one of the most notable men at the bar. This book will well repay perusal. Snow-Bound— A Winter Idyl. By John Greenleaf Whittier. Boston : Ticknor & Fields. This is a beautiful contribution to American poetical litera- ture. To say that it will take the same place in the literature of our country that the Deserted Village of Goldsmith occu- pies in that of England, is briefly asserting the position it will hold in the minds of all cultivated people. It is a clearly, delicately drawn picture of what is within the experience of every New England citizen. Here is pictured the " ominous prophecy " of the " thickening sky " that ushers in the snow-storm. One can feel in the air ft A chill no coat, however stout, Of homespun stuff could quite shut out, A hard, dull bitterness of cold, That checked, mid vein, the circling race Of life-blood iu the sharpened face." The poet pictures the preparations about the home, and then the " Whirl-dance of the bliuding storm, As zigzag wavering to and fro, Crosbed and recrossed the winged snow ;" and the morning tcene that follows the storm : " No cloud above, no earth below — A universe of sky and snow ! The old familiar sights of ours Look marvellous shapes; strange domes and towers Rose up where sty or corn-crib stood, Or garden wall, or belt of wood ; A Bmooth white mound the brush-pile showed, A fenceless drift what once was road ; The bridle-post an old man sat With loose-flung coat and high cocked hat; The well-curb had a Chinese roof ; And even the long sweep, high aloof, Iu its slant splendor, seemed to tell Of Pisa's leaning miracle." The family gathering within doors, " While the red logs before us beat The post-line back with tropic heat ;" he tells with the fondness that clings about the memories of childhood, and of " The dear home faces whereupon That fitful firelight paled and shone — Henceforward, listen as we will, The voices of that hearth are still. *#******* Yet Love will dream, and Faith will trust, (Since He who knows our need is just,) That somehow, somewhere, meet we must. Alas for him who never sees The stars shine through the cypress trees ! Who, hopeless, lays his dead away. Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play ! Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own I" We can scarcely withstand the temptation to limit our quo- tations to our proper space. The poet shows herein more distinctly than in any of his former works, his close alliance to nature. The poem touches the affections of the refined and the uncultured, and is clearly worthy the maturity of the poet's genius. Ralph and other Poems. By Henry L. Abbey. Roundout : Horatio Fowks. New York: N. Tibbals, 37 Park Row. The title of this volume would seem to imply that " Ralph " te a poem, which is very evidently a mistake. It is a very ordinary story of half a dozen pages, dividtd into lines of ten or twelve syllables, each line commencing with a capital letter. It begins (the italics are ours) thus : " How fast, how calm, how cold the snow comes down, Each llake falls like a lifeless, wee white hand Laid on a mother's breast. Ah, me! Ah, me !" It's all about an unreasonable old lady, aged seventy, whose son, a lad of about forty, went to the war. The lad's lather, " who was not always kind, ah, no ! ah, no !" " hung about the tavern all the day, and steeped his soul in liquor 'till he died." She complains of being pretty cold, yet goes on in her rythmical way, without once getting tired of hearing herself talk, evidently under the impression that she is poetizing, and even ventures on politics to a certain extent : " What was the use of war? I asked Ralph that ; why not adjust the law, make compromise and spare the precious blood ?" etc. The author labors under the impression that he is writing poetry when he makes this innocent, imaginative, and improb- able old person say, divided into liues begiuning with capitals : " I tried to get a pension but in vain. I tried to have the acres worked on shares ; but men were scarce, and all the harvest through the hay remained uncut, the land untitled. The man who promised Ralph to do my work, went off to the war himself," etc. We have looked at several of the pieces in this volume but have failed to find anything to which the word" poem "could be applied. There is some miscellaneous talk about " Seteb," " Hagi," " Adrian Avidon and the fair Estelle," " Eleanore," " Yelama," " Milicent," " Ghismond," but no poetry. Mr. Abbey has apparently read Tennyson and the " Village Voi- ces " of Robert Buchanan, but only to prove how poorly one can imitate very good poetry. The volume is issued by two publishers, but neither of the names strike us as familiar. The paper is cheap, the type cheaper, and the contents may be described by the superlative degree of the same adjective. On the whole, if we could persuade Mr. Abbey never to try to write any more " poems," we should consider that we had done him a favor, and would ask no expression of gratitude for it, although we might run the risk of thereby depriving the prin- ter of a very small job. Unto this Last. Four essays on the First Principles of Politi- cal Economy, by John Ruskin. John Wiley & Son, New York. These papers were originally published in the Cornhill Magazine, and they were at once assailed as false in principle and of impossible use and application. Let this be as it may, Mr. Ruskin is a man of so much ability and learning, and so vivid and eloquent in expression, although too frequently redundant in phrase, that whatever he writes will be, as it deserves to be, read. Those of us who have read his Modern Painters cannot hesitate to follow, whether he leads us to nursery rhymes or metaphysics — which latter, by-the-by, he professes to despise. Our author seems to desire to show, first, what wealth is, and that its acquisition is " possible only under certain moral conditions of society." We fear that Ruskin has forgotten his realism and gone head over heels into idealism. It appears as if he sees the reverse of what actually exists, for, according to prevalent ideas, the greater the roguery the greater the success. It is useless to say, read this book, because all readers will do so independent of news- paper notices. Letters of Life. By Mrs. L. H. Sigourney. New York: D. Appleton & Co. This " is the autobiography of a woman no less reputable for her literary ability than for the graces and charms " of her true womanhood. The printing press does a good office when it gives to the world a record of so pure a life as Mrs. Sigouruey's has beeu. No family, in which there are children to be educated, can furnish them nobler lessons of calm, reli- gious motives and conduct, than the book in question. To those, then, who are interested in educational pursuits— whether thoy be parents or teachers — particularly to those who have the care and control of girls, do we recommend it. The following we can only mention by title at present : The South Since the War. By Sidney Andrews. Boston : Ticknor & Fields. Citoyenne Jaqneline. By Sarah Tytler. London and New York : Alexander Stiahan. Honor May Boston : Ticknor & Fields. St. Martin s Summer. By Anne H. M. Brewster. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. Thomas a Beckel — A Tragedy, and Other Poems. By G. H. Hollister. Boston: W.V.Spencer. The Idle Word. Short Religious Essays. By Edward Mey- rick Goulbern, D.D. New York : Appleton & Co. Broken to Harness. A Story of Euglish Domestic Life. By Edmuud Yates. Boston : Loring. .Roebuck. A Novel. New York : Doolady. The Gold Brick. By Mrs. Anue S. Stevens. Philadelphia : Peterson & Co. Man of the World. By Win. North. Philadelphia : Peter- son & Co. False Pride ; or, Two Ways to Matrimony. Philadelphia : Peterson & Co. Halls Guide to the Great West. New Y'ork : Appleton & Co. Costly Bridal Presents. — A set of emerald jewelry, valued at $75,000 in gold, has been made in New York, which is intended as a present to a Spanish bride. The Home Jour- nal thus describes it : "The set of jewels under mention, in the opinion of Paris jewellers, is the most perfect collection of emeralds in the world. They are formed into a necklace and a pair of ear-rings. The necklace is composed of fourteen perfect emeralds, each weighing five carats, and each surrounded with thirty-two diamonds, all festooned and set in silver in similar fashion to the court jewels. The necklace is adjusted in two parts iu such a manner that they may be detached and each form a bracelet. The ear-rings, also made brilliant in diamonds, set in polished silver, are of the pendent style, two and a half in- ches in length, and consist of three emeralds each. The stone at the top of the ear-rings weighs two and a half carats ; that in the centre, one carat ; while the lower stone — a pearl-shaped drop — weighs seven and a half carats. Our readers will have some idea of the scarcity of such a set of gems, when we say that they are the result of twenty-five years' search in the celebrated mines of New Granada, being the choice of the products of these mines during that period. AMUSEMENTS. THE Forrest season at the Opera House is proving the most successful one, both in a histrionic and monetary point of view, that has ever been known in this city. All the seats in the dress circle, and most of those in the parquette, have been engaged for days in advance of each performance during the past week ; although Mr. Forrest has only appeared in the parts which he played during the two previous weeks, with the exception of last evening, when he produced Mac- belli for the first time. The masterly manner in which Mr. Forrest personates the characters of " Virginius," " Riche- lieu," "Damon," and "Lear" — the plays respectively per- formed during the first four nights of the present week — has been freely admitted by both the press and the public, and has won from both a more exalted opinion than that which he en- joyed before witnessing his tragic delineations. Thousands who have not seen Mr. Forrest for the last fifteen years, who held his reputation as a great actor in a somewhat equivocal balance, admitting that his triumphs were marred by those excesses of style that were the faults of his acting in his ear- lier years. But seeing is believing, as the old adage has it, and there is no other profession in which the qualities of its votaries are so quickly gauged as that of the actor. The great improvement in the style and manner of his readings, the impress of mental culture in subduing the strongly-marked physical extravagances of his earlier characterizations, have gained for him a reputation which should outweigh, as far as the results of his Pacific coast trip are concerned, all other considerations. It is freely conceded that Mr. Forrest's rep- resentations of these grand characters exhibit a great intel- lectual improvement ; that they are mellowed and ripened by age and study ; and that be ranks to-day as the best living personator of the great tragic characters of the drama. The early hour that our paper goes to press will not permit us to speak of last night s performance of " Macbeth." This afternoon and evening : The Three Guardsmen, Mr. McCullough appearing as " D' Artignon." Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday : The Broker of Bo- gota. Thursday : Macbeth. Friday : Othello. Mrs. Sedley Brown is to be the recipient of a complimen- tary benefit, to-night at the Metropolitan. Let it be a bum- per, for the lady is deserving of it. Mrs. Brown, as mana- geress, has not had a successful season ; but, on the contrary, has lost heavily — not from inefficiency of management, but because of the great attraction at the rival theatre. It was ill advised to attempt to stem the Forrest current with only the couuter-attraction ol a stock company. The bill presents a new transformation extravaganza, under the taking title of Hocus Pocus ; or, The Magic Egg. May it prove a golden one to the lady for whose benefit it is to be produced. Mr. George Felix Beokert's first concert will be given at the Academy of Music on Thursday evening next. Mr. Benkert has the reputation of being a superior pianiss, and an excellent musician. He has secured the able assistance of Signoriua Brambilla, Madame Lizzie Northrup, and others^ Mr. Herold will act as a director. There has been a dearth of concerts lately, and the attractions presented for this one should fill the Academy on Thursday evening. Dr. Benton, believing that our citizens may possibly enjoy a sensation somewhat differing from that produced by street killing aod suicide, announces an exhibition at Piatt's Hall this eveuidg of the ludicrous effects of laughing gas. Different Constitutions.— Some years ago a lot of city tourists were waudering over Scotland. One rainy night a poor fellow got wet, tired, and benighted, sat down by the roadside, and there died of fatigue and exposure. The hard- ship was very great to a town-bred man. The story was told in the papers, and came to the ears of a Highland keeper. " Weel, weel," he said, " I canna understand that. 1 was oot watchin' the ruver mysel' yon nicht, and it was kind o' weet, but fine and warm. I was tired, and I lay doon, and, though I should have keepit awake, I just sleepit. Weel, when I wakened about six o'clock, the water had come two inches up my side where 1 lay in the shough. I was kind o' cold and stiff-like, but I took a rin and warmed myself, and then I came over the hull to my own house and got my breakfast. I canna understand how the man died ; he must have beeu ill some other way surely. — Rough Nights' Quar- ters, by One of the People who have Roughed it. A very funny man in Greenfield, Massachusetts, signally failed once in the description of a book he put up in selliug a library at auction. He hadn't read very much in books, Bobbins hadn't, but scanned the titles, trusted to luck, and went ahead : " Here you have Bunyans Pilgrim's Progress. Now, how much am I offered for it? How much do 1 hear for the Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan ? It's a first-rate book, gentlemen, with six superior illustrations ; how much do I hear ? All about the Pilgrims, by John Bunyan ! Tells where they come from, an' where they landed, an' what they done after they hmded ! Here's a picter of one of 'em going about Plymouth peddlin', with a pack on his back." THE CALIFORNIA!*. [June 2d DISTANCES FROM SAN FRANCISCO | To various points : To Fort Point, 4 miles, by omnibus, four trips a day. Lone Mountain, 3, street railway. Seal Rock, f>, oars ami omnibus, two trios a day. Missiou Dolores, tstreotraihvays; Ocean Hondo 8. San Mateo, 20, railroad. Crystal Springs, 23. railroad and stage Halt-Moon JJay,2i», do. do. Redwood city, 30, do. Mountain View, 38, do. Santa Clara, 47, do. San Jose, 00. do. , orsteamerand stage, 54. Alvisoj 4(>, steamer, daily. Almaden mines, (>< , steaiucr and stage ; or by rail- road and stage, 64. Santa Cruz, 7S. railroad and stage. Oakland, 8, steamer and railroad, six trips a day. Alameda, 11, steamer, three trips a day. San Leandro, 16, steamer and railroad. Mission San Jose, 34, steamer, railroad and stage. Warm Springs, :?7, do. do. Benicm, 30, steamer leaves at 1 P. M. daily. Sacramento, 117, do. do. Stockton, 117, do. do. Martinez, 33, do. Pacbeco, 38, steamer and stage. Diablo Coal Mines, 41, steamer and stage. Suisun, 50, steamer, or 51 bv steamer :uid stage Vallejo, 28 ; Mare Island, 37; Nana city, 50 White Sulphur Springs, 07, stage from Napa. Geyser Spriugs, IIS, do. , dp. -. Sonoma, 50. steamer, tri weekly. Petaluma, 48, steamei', daily. Healdshurg, 80, stage daily from Petaluma San Quentiu, 12, steamer ; Farallone Islands, 20. OROOKLYN HOTF.L, 1852. SAN FRANCISCO. 1866. ^LLEN'S LUNG B