Newspaper of Chicago Daily Tribune, May 4, 1873, Page 6

Newspaper of Chicago Daily Tribune dated May 4, 1873 Page 6
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* ' / .riseiubly i Ere. -S. men as Workers - Sir Samuel Baker and His Wife. a and tlie Cuban Eevolution— Emily Faithful! on Eng lish Loyalty. lon-Fishing in Canada—Queen Vic toria as a Millionaire. Gold Sands of the Pacific—2line gpecaiaiors—Tlie Indian Peace Policy.' THE GALAXY. , ■ j description which Hr. Justin McCarthy of tho behavior of mu uatiosax. assembly at tehsailleb bt!y mahes Rood hia remark that it is tho singular and anomalous that Europe has ; for generations. He says it is the so-called nal Parliament of a Bepnblic, and the cou th aught, hope, and ambition of the large rih' of its members is to render a Bepnblic SHi’bic. ■ It hides itself in Torsaiiles because i 03 and dreads the teener, freer atmosphere ! rin. It scorns to have its fining framework amid the dreary old ruins and gray, mourn . nemorics of Legitimacy at Versailles. It ; there like an embodied conspiracy—like a ‘ gang of plotters against the freedom of ' .. o _Uko a Coblentz set up in tho heart of re itself.' It is a usurpation; ’it ought to bo nachronism. If It were to last long, it 1 probably do deeper wrong to the liberty ■ ho safety of Branco than was done by the ■ iian occupation of Versailles, . Is ic tho way the debates are conducted: ' ir. tho House of Commons' on the famous night - 1 . debate of Sir Charles Ditto’s motion, and I have : nmv another stormy scone In the sumo House, . sprat of some rather noisy discussions in the : ji ilWuohlngton, and scenes m thePalais Hour-, ’oris, when the Imperial Corps Legialahf eat 'end the historical five were doing the whole of opposition. But I, at least, never heard such cent persistent, and passionate clamor as in the •c of veraanka during the sitting of this present iblv Tho whole 150 odd members seem at times veliine with one throat. Half are trying to : n down the Speaker; half tho other moiety are - ire in his defense ; the rest are bawling oat ap i for silence. The orator in the tribune shrieks * ice to Bia enemies, and shakes' his fists at them, I bangs the front of his rostrum sometimes ’ bom hands together. Now and then some i 'option, shriller or nearer than the rest, ■ra his ear, and he goes off. into an epi !il altercation with that particular enemy,. “ skirling ” os the Scottish fishwives would say, II very top of his voice. Tho President endeavors . tore order by ringing hia bdl in a manner which . I suggest to English cars tho notice of a depart ' rain or an approaching muffin man. The bell* I • «lds another dreadful conn Ato the din; until tho ( I ablv has fairlv spent Uadr with rage and roaring i is* no chance of quiet ; and even long after the I i tumult is over thorn.-ia a visible, and. audible ictioi i still overspreading the benches, such as . ya observed on the sea the morning after a storm. JP president of the Assembly, M. Grovy, is a man j me dignity and authority, with a rather imposing •net* and a decisive manner.. When some ono of ? 'teo-Prcsidcnte—say M. St. Marc Girardin—takes ! in tho absence of M. Grcvy, the Assembly ' j r *s itself Into a very Batch Ail this time, of ? c vervlittle business ia done; but unless there - as debate of remarkable inter eat going on, as on « r„--::-n when U. Gambetta lately raised the qncs- J f dissolution, the Afifembly breaks up hurriedly, • )Vt’ when the time comes for the “dinner train” ; loPiiri-:. - - • j o Assembly, Mr. McCarthy thinks, is bitterly : . Eepnblican, and ia only coherent and strong , ho purpose of thwarting the Kepuhlicaus i delaying tho final and definitive estahlish j of that form of government which M. I rs now declares to be the only one possible Prance. Meanwhile tha Bonapariasta have i ,ea whatever of giving up their game, nor • tho writer think their game is bo entirely • id out as most people in England seem to obtlesß the death of Louis Napoleon gave a sort lip to the energies of Bonapartism,and wa must ' Itach too much importance to tno protestations Vliiy which are made over a newly-opened grave, jlwas In Paris immediately after Louis Napoleon’s '' and even before his funeral, and then for many after, his portrait was in every picture-shor *** - * .ue de lliroli and the Boulevards, and had every ' frl&Sfo^re^S 4 au idle curiosity. The Bonapartiats, moreover, " z great advantage as conspirators over the quiet i onest Count de Chambord and the respectable . ns Princes. Therefore, although Ido not believe ' »future success of I do believe in • -ping itself before the public, and not going to or consenting to be quietly effaced. Furthor ■ (although thin is rather out of the direct track ■ f subject), I think, despite all appearances, that , e Napoleon (Jerome) and his branch have, on the <.*, a better chance than the Empress and her son. ■ t o great hope of the. Republicans lies in the •! that they aro united, while their opponents, :! urbons, Orle&nists, Bonapartiats, aro ] lessly divided. •1 CAUL BENSON’S CASUAL COGITATIONS I a tonsorial direction this month. He thinks j -American custom of being shaved by bar ■ instead of shaving themselves, "has noth -1 to recommend it, and must be a standing i cl to that somewhat conventional person f the intelligent foreigner. ; ,i at can be the origin and motive of it ? Solf-shav ; no very difficult or complicated operation. It ] not require a man especially dextrous with his ! $, or even In full possession .of his bodily powers, I rccight was long ago impaired by age and bard j . end a chronic disease of the heart has rendered ! srvea very shaky, os printers sometimes And to | cost; yet I .shave by daylight -or gaslight as I • and naturally os I was my hands. “Time is y” to most of our countrymen. Do they save I by being shaved?- On the contrary . they lose It, 1 3y gclng after tho barber, secondly, in the major | cases, by welting for their turn. . Finally, is it ; *:r to be shoved op to shave ? Here again the ad- I 'Ze is on the side of the latter proceeding. The > impediment to self-shaving that I can think of is I national difliculty about hot water; but hot wa •! hough desirable, is not indispensable. Indeed, .i authorities maintain that cold water is bolter ! ■ worm. lie, ' there Is no valid reason j Americana - should ' not sbsvo them t •; but they have contracted a habit of being ■ :d, each because the others ere.. And there rcaDy i i gome cause of apprehension that Belf-ahaving J jscomo one of our loat aria. For, -though shav j Then ycuknow how to do it, is just as easy as I on a platform, or stealing in business, or taking :1 n in Congress, or any act with'which an American ’» n is familiar, it does require seine little inotruo- S ind practice at thfl outset; which little ins true- I aid practice, I fear, the bulk of our rising genera-" ; locs not get, perhaps because tho bulk of our 1 generation never bad it. ; 3 fcirbar-ouß custom, however, is only silly and j nfortabla (for I pass over, as of rare occurrence, I iecs of disease contracted by barbers’ razors 1 ocp); but there are other Instances in whlchthe I Uirity to follow the crowd involves very, serious I quences to health. ‘When anthracite was intro ias a domestic fuel, ite economy, especially from ;! ir-saving point cf view, scon made it popular. By I -y the experience of its effects and tho progress of i m made clear iU deleterious properties, and ; l ;dthat a man should bum anthracite coal as ha 'i d live in a tenement house—because he could get ■I. ng better—nosoUicrwlse.. Yet Americans of com j! jle, nay, largo go on burning anthracite, 'I jy because other Americans do tho earns. Ons. ox | eading members of IhoJfew York bar has always bd wood, nct only in his library at home, but in Iris | {“downtown.” One of his clients, (naturally a j of fortune), pays him a business virit there, and I ims, “ Why, Mr. E , you must be very rich to I {wood 1 Don’t yoii .find It very expensive?” | j.** say* E , “It is expensive. Sometimes it I | s e fiO a month more than anthracite coal would ' [ *t, Hr, Smith, my health is worth a great deal ■ - £3O a month.” ....... ; I 1 * XSEUIC WABFABE branch ofmiUtary bclouco, j j his, sketches of “Life on - ; corno light on it from hie ■ ", ; ! arfrw^ '■“yeeal for dinner, my • ! but relish for the repast, infoSei :njso d-ClSt hand. Eva, mm WildSjmml rnehed to bv sn ?/ orce ia thn thom- Or delivering r-sas^sS^ws -ravine or ambuch until the proper moment. ‘ On' this Occasion the stratagem did not succeed. The Indians, being mounted on thoirfleotest ponies, would charge in single file past our camp, often riding within easy car bine range of our men, displaying great boldness ana unsurpassable horsemanship. The soldiers, unaccus tomed to firing at such rapidly-moving objects, were rarely able to indict serious damage upon th& miee. Occasionally a pony would bo struck J J*® f to the ground, bat the rider always succeeded carried away unon the pony of a comrade. I , _ teres ting to witness their maiwdoußabiitiMM hoire men • at the come time one could no*. but admiro me course thev displayed. The ground was Ip'cl, open, ; tro°M rcrolar line of skirmishers dismounted, tho^uaecx tending a distance of perhaps two bimdrcd Tho Tndlanf had a rendezvous behind a hillocit on the right, them from being seen or disturbed by Uio soldiers. Starting out smg y, or by twos and threes, the .warriors would suddenly l£?e the cover of the hillock, and. with war whoops &nd taunts over the plain in a line parallel to that occupied by the soldiers, and within easy carbine range of the latter.: The pony seemed possessed of the de signs and wishes of his dusky rider, as he seemed to flyungulded. by bridle, rein, or spur. The warrior . would fire and load and fire again as often as he was able to do, while dashing along through the shower of leaden bullets fired above, beneath, in front, and be hind him by the excited troopers, until finally, when the aim of the latter improved and tho leaden messen gers whistled uncomfortably close, the warrior would be seen to cast himself over on the opposite side of his pony, until his foot on his back and hia faco under the neck of the pony wore all that could be seen, th<v rest of his person being completely covered by the body of the pony. This mamsuvro would frequently deceive tho recruits among the soldiers; having fired probably about the time the warrior was to recruit would shout oiultlnglyand rail “ft of his comrades to his lucuy ehot. The sold-em, howerer, were not so easily deceived, wards would remind their lesa experienced companion of the terrible fatality of his shots. Tho savages really kept tho camp in a stato of fi iego, bo that at no hour of tho day waa it safe for - individuals to pass beyond tho chain of eentinols which enveloped the immediate limits of the camp. Before it became known that the Indians were so watchful and daring, many nar row escapes were made, and many laughable, al- _ though serious, incidents occurred—laughable, however, only to those who wore not the parties moat interested. One of those Berio-comic in cidents was aa follows: There was a beautiful, clear stream of water, named Bluff Creek, running through camp, which supplied bathing facilities to tho officers and men, a privilege which but few allowed to pass unimproved. Whether to avoid tho publicity attending localities near camp, or to seek a point in the bed of tho stream whore tho water was fresh and imdisturbed,. or from a motive different from either of thoao, two of our youug offi cers mounted their horses one day, without saddles, and rode down the valley of the.stream perhaps a mile or more in search ota bathing-place. Discovering one to their taste, they dismounted, secured their horses, and after disposing of their apparel on the greensward covering tho banks, were soon floating and floundering iu tho water like a pair of young,'porpoises. How long they had been enjoying this healthful recrea tion, or how much longer they. mlght havo re mained, is not necessary to tho story, Ono of them happening to glanca toward their horses obaerved tho • Utter in a state of great trepidation. Hastening from the water to the ho discovered the cause of tho strange conduct on tho part of the horses, which was nothing moro nor less than a-party of about thirty, Indian warriors, mounted, and stealthily making their way toward the bathing party, evidently having their eyes on the latter, and intent upon their capture. Here was a condition of affaira-that was at least as un expected aa it was unwelcome. Quickly calling out his companion, who was still in tho water unconscious of approaching danger, ■ tho one on shore made haste to unfasten their horses and’prepare for flight. Fortu nately tho Indiana, who. were now .within a few hun dred yards of the two officers, wore coming from tho direction opposite their camp, leaving the line of re treat for tho officers open. No sooner did tho warriors find that their approach was discovered than they put their ponies to their best speed, hoping to capture the officers before the latter could have time to mount and* get their horses under headway. The two officers In the meanwhile were far from idle; no flesh brushes or bathing towels were required to restore a healthy cir culation, nor was time wasted in an idle attempt to make a toilet If they had sought their bathing-ground from motives of retirement or delicacy, no such senti ments wero exhibited now, for, catching up their •wardrobe from the ground in one hand, and seizing the bridle rein with the other, .one leap and they ware on their horses’ backs and riding toward camp for dear. life. ■ They were not exactly in the condition of Flora McFHmsy with nothing to wear, but to ail intents and purposes might as well have been so. Then followed a race which, but for tho risk incurred by two of the riders, might well bo compared to that of John Gilpin. Doth of the officers, were experienced horsemen; but what experienced horseman would willingly care to bo thrust upon the bare hack of a flying steed, minus all apparel, neither boots, breeches, nor saddle, not even the spurs and collar which are said to constitute tho full uniform of a Goorgian.Coloncl, and when so dis posed cf, to havo three or four score of hideoualy painted and feathered savages, well mounted and near at hand, straining every nerve and urging their fleet-footed war ponica to their highest speed in order that the scalps of the ex perienced horsemen might be added to the other hu man trophies which grace their lodges ? Truly, this was ono of tho occasions when personal appearance i is nothing, and 11 a man’s a man for a 1 that,” so at least thought our amateur Mazcppas as they came dashing toward camp, over and anon casting anxious over their shoulders at their pursuers, who , despite every exertion of the - former, wero surely • overhauling their pale-faced brothers. 1 To tiie pursued, camp seemed a long .way in tho • distance, while. tho shouts of tho war riors. each time seeming nearer than before, warned them to urge their ctecda to their fastest pace. In a • few moments the occupants of camp discovered tha approach of this strangely appearing party. It was an easy matter to recognize tho warriors, but.wbo could ; name the two who rode at the front 7 Tho pursuing warriors, seeing that they were not likely to overtake 1 and capture tho two knights of tho bath, slackened their pace and sent a volley of arrows after them. A 1 few moments later, and the two officers were safe in ' tho lines, where they lost no time in making thdr 1 way to thdpimi* to ninma to certain mattero run ting • to their toilet which the sudden appearance cf their i dusky visitors' had prevented. It was a long time bc t fore they ceased to hear allusions made by their com ; rides to the cut and stylo of their riding-suit. I Junius Henri Browne seems possessed with i the idea that the noblest study of mankind is | woman. Each issue of the Galaxy for the last few months has contained an article from his pen on woman in some peculiar point; woman i as companions, as lovers, as inconstants. This ’ month we have I WOMEN AS WOEEEBS. - There IB no need of women working, is often said. They can get married if they want to, and thcywlU then bo taken care of. Such declarations should como ‘ from hermits. All mei of .the world "know, or ought to know, that to the wife are opened a hundred unsus pected doors leading to engrossing activities.’ The temple of Hymen often Joins the vestibule of the pal ace of regret. Hardly any wedded woman can freo herself from cares and accountabilities to which in her single state she was a stranger, Andgcnerallyher labors are tenfold increased. She who would enter wedlock to avoid work should traverse Sahara to gather fruit. The longer she is married, the more sho fintia to do. Needing rest most, she has it least. Every plant eho nourishes shoots out now charges, blossoms into fresh solicitudes. Touching toil solely, she would bo largely the gainer could she resume her maidenhood. Love may lighten her burthens, but it docs not decrease them. Quite the contrary indeed. when sho has been repeatedly blessed, among her blessings are scattered as their consequence broken health, shattered nerves, rayless future, absolute in capacity for enjoyment. Woman, It is claimed, should not seek marriage to avoid work, but should seek work to avoid marriage. Sho is too prone to view wedlock;—the result of a false education she is slowly outgrowing—as a status abso lute Instead of empirical. She imagines happiness in heres in If, when nothing docs really. It simply gives bock what Is brought to it. It is the mirror of the conjoinlng'mlnds. Looking through each other’s eyej. the Image is dear and complete. Gazing at different angles, it is confused and'distorted. Particularly true is it o* marriage that what wo carry to it we find re flected in it. • Oaco let this nooday mystery, this open secret, be apprehended, and they who think to wed will glance within for that which they had hoped with out, ..... .Is it not safe to say more happiness is wrecked than ; reaches home on matrimonial seas ? The voyagers set ‘ sail fancying they are favored of .Solus; that their kodwill ride in the fair haven of the port of peace. They serf* the rising cloud; they hear .-the rushing wind; they feel the swelling waves. SUU Is the can vas spread; the vessel plunges, croaks, and groans. While they deem themselves secure, the tempest in its fiercest fury strikes; the masts giro way; the deck is crushed; the ocean dashes through, and on the watery waste black rain site. . Tho mischief is that they who have cinbarkcd are over-confident; they do not understand tho novel waters; their views of convoying aro incorrect; and so they are disabled, lost perchance, ••. - . It is diacroeter to marry in cool than in hot blood, notwithstanding the profanation of romance. Fiery hearts are poor counsellors. Few nuptial feasts are spoiled .by tardy preparation. Katuro having made women conjugal, they arc more liable to bo deceived than men, who arc sexually pliilopolygynoui. Fop them, marriage as an institution needs to bo .unideal ized, lest they be caught by Its false glitter. After con tracting it, they cannot excrciao their imagination too much in its behoof. The more potent the charm on their eycs,'tho better for. It and them. They may not cling too long to their subjective enchantment. Be fore taking vows they should try to consider 'calmly the untried state, preserving wholesome skepticism of its indiscriminate laudation.. Eegcrdingit as a means, not as an end, as n spring of sympathy and comfort, not as an emancipation from labor or as a source of support, they may approach it in the proper, spirit They who can afford to wait are likeliest to win. As very few maidens have themselves, or.throngh finrfr parents, pecuniary independence, is their surest deliverer from morbid dlscontem. inju dicious wedlock. Work is what they want above every thing.They sigh over their empty hearts; but their empty life is the scat of their trouble. Occupied hands are an excellent remedy.for sentimental dumps. How much wiser and more wholesome for every young wo man to do* something practical, something which will give her.thoughts outward -direction, and suppress tho inward gush of sentimentalism I -- : } SCRIBNER’S. 818 BA3IDEL BASES AND HIB WIFZ, who, war© reported, tho other day, to have been murdered in the wilds of Africa, are described among “ The JFonx Great African Travelers,” -sketched by ; Henry M. Stanley in the May Scrib '"mud Baker is a different person altogether THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE; SUNDAY, MAY 4, 1873. l S "hS net eram £ Io ca ,£*e °ot “SaSri?* bat bo cause It- furuLffica him with the food bis'adventurous spirit requires. The dangers and excitements incidental to African exploration.lend to it an alluring charm, which has been the induce ment for Baker to visit Central Africa. * As a man. Baker is singularly devoid of angularities of disposition. Ho is honest, warm-hearted, and im pulsive, with a chocry, sunny temper, which, though sot to wax hot occasionally, baa no malice in its grain, .and tills enables him to 'Tin tho love of his people. Ho Is, perhaps, too severe a disciplinarian, but ho makes up for this severity by such an open-handed generosity that hia people foci more than compensated for any ccvorily they may bo subjected to. . In scholarship and erudition ho is tho inferior of Burton, but ho is superior to him in-tha vim and cnery requisite for a great explorer, and hia style of writing is much more at tractive? Ho is the equal of Spsao in the hunting-field, and second to none, not .even Gordon Gumming: and though he it not ouch a student of natural history as Grant, ho cer tainly excels both Spoke and Grant in tho art of book rJStniiaker has tho advantage over his predecessors in Africa—if U can bo called an - advantago-of having a loving wife ns his companion. Bo.h may sickcn of fever. Buffer from famine, bo menaced by belligerent • natives, yet are they ail In all to each other; true com panions in misfortune or In pleasure; helpmates ono o the other. No acridity can arise from such; com panionship. tho interest of ono cannot clash with the other’s, enmity stands abashed, treachery avoids them, jealousy is unknown, suspicion may not hide between tho cloeo embrace of man, ami wife Isolated from their species in tho Jungles of Central Africa. Swot is tho- companionship of the lonely pair, and romance surrounds them with its halo. Perhaps it is this charm which makes Baker’s books so attractive to tho general reader. Baker m person truthfully embodies the Ideal which tho writer of this article, in common, perhaps, with other read ers, has formed of him. Indeed, when I saw him at Cairo, in 1669. preparatory to hia etart on his present journov, I fancied I know him well. There ho ctood, the burly, bearded incarnation of the hunter who shot rhinoceroses with tho Hamram sword-huntera, had baggod elephants by the dozen near tho sources of tho Atbara, and had “tumbled over” antelopes at CO9 yards’ distance In tho lowlands of tho Sobat. A truo Englishman in appearance, with a keen and bold blno eye, a wealth of brown board over tho lower part* of. his face, a square, massive forehead, and' prominent ncso; a man with broad shoulders, of firm, compact build, a little tailor than tho average of his fellow-men ; a man who plant ed his feet down solidly as ho walked, like tho sure footed, doggod, determined being that ho is. Hia wife—a- Hungarian Jody whom ho mec, loved, and married at Cairo, iu Egypt—frank and hearty, with enough prcttincss in her features to malm her interesting at first sight; in short, a real woman, pos sessing .womanly lovingness, strength of 'character,' endurance, and every other virtue fit for an explorers '*Sir Samuel Baker prefaces his account of his jour ney to Albert N’Yanza with tho following: ** I weighed carefully tha chances of. tho undertaking. Before me, untrodden Africa; againot me, tho obat*- cles that had defeated tho world since its creation; on my Bide, a somewhat tough constitution, perfect independence, a long experience in savogo life, and both time and means, which I intended to devote to tho object without limit. England had never sent an expedition to tho Nile sources previous to that, under the command of Speke and Grant. Bruco, ninety years ago, had succeeded in tracing tho source of tho Bluo or Lesser Nile—thus, tho honor of that diacovcry bclongcd to Great Britain; Speke was on his roadfrom t’’o south; and I felt confident that my gallant friend would leave his bones upon tho path rothor than submit to failure. • I trusted that England would not bo beaten; and, although I hardly dartd to Lope that I could sucoeed where others greater than I hod failed, I determined to sacrifice all in tho attempt. Had I been alone, it would have been no hard lot to die upon tho untrodden path before me, but there was one who, although my gresteat comfort, was also my greatest care; ono-whose life yet dawned at so early an ago that womanhood was still a future. I shud dered at tho prospect for her should she be left alone In savage lands at my death; and gladly would 1 have left her iu the luxuries of homo instead of exposing her to tho miseries of Africa. It was in vain that 1 implored her to remain, and that I painted tho diffi culties and perils still blacker than I supposed they really would be; ehe was* resolved, with woman’s con stancy and devotion, to share all dangers, and to fol low mo through each rough footstep of tho wild life before me,” Tho companionship of his wifo waa a eourco of peril as well as delight: On tho 12 tli February, 180-i. Sir Samuel Easter stood in the presence of Kammsi, King of Uuyoro, whom ho thus describes: “Upon ray approach tho crowd gave way, ana 1 was shortly laid oh a mat at the King’s feet. Ho was a liuo-looking nun, but with a peculiar expression of countenance, owing to his extremely prominent eyes* ho was about six feet nigh, beautifully clean, and was dressed in a long robe of bark cloth most gracefully folded. The nails of his hands and feet were most carefully attended, and his com plexion was about as dark a brown as that of an AhjS- B ; nian. He sat upon a copper stool placed upon a car pet of leopard skins, and he was surrounded by about ten of hia principal Chiefs.” Baker having described the object of his coning .to Uuyoro, he proceeded to present the King with a Per sian carpet, on abbia (large white Cashmere mantle), a red silk netted sash, a pair of scarlet Turkish shoes, several pairs of socks, a double-barreled gun end am munition, and a great heap of first-class Ixuda made up into gorgeous necklaces andglrdlea. The King,strangely enough, did not seem to care for any of these valuable • things, bat requested that tho gun might bo fired off. This *I7OB accordingly done, to tho utter confusion of the largo assembly of savages, who rushed away in such haste that they tumbled over each otuer like rab bits. which do delighted tho King, that, although star tled at first, ho wao soon convulsed with laughter. But the gallant traveler soon found that, though things seemed auspicious enough at first, tho nature of Kamrasi was so susceptible to suspicioua, that ex cuses were daily furnished him which retarded his prosecution of tho search for tho Lake Luta Krig*. Finally, however, ho was permitted to go, and toward the end of February, 1801, Baker and hia wifo sot out westward in tho direction of tho lake. Ui«7 iwra about to bid furowflill tA TTamroin, tbo King turned to Baker, and in the coolest manner said/ “1 will send you to tho lake and to Shooa, as I prom ised, but you must leave your wife.” Suspicious of tho King's intentions. Baker, quick oa lightmug, drew his revolver, and, I .pointing it at him. said if bewared to repeat tho insult ha would shoot him on the spot, and not all hia men could save him. Mra. Baker, also indignant at the proposal, rose from her scat, and, maddened with the excitement of tho moment/mado him a brief but fierce speech in Arabic. Astonished by the outbreak of the white people’s tempers, Kamraai made haste to say, “ Don’t bo angry. I didn’t mean to offend you by asking for your wife. I will give you a wife, If you want one, and I thought you might have no objection to give me youro. It is my custom to give my visitors pretty wives, and I thought you might exchange. Don’t make a fuss about it; if you don’t like it, there’s an end to it.” This little scene over, Baker and lils party traveled for three days westward over a flat, uninteresting countrv, and reached tho Kafoor Elver, where one of the most’deplorable misfortunes of tho march presented itself. The parly were crossing tho river over a natural bridge of closaly-wovon grass, and Baker had com pleted about one-fourth the distance, when, accident ally looking back, ho was horrified to see bis wife standing in one spot, and sinking gradually . through tho wceus, while her face was distorted and perfectly purple, and then instantly falling down, aa though : shot dead. Springing to her side, with the help of come of his men ho dragged her like a corpse through tho yielding grass to tho shore. Then, laying her un der a tree, ho bathed her head and face with water, as it was thought she had fainted'; but she lay perfectly insensible, with teeth and hands firmly clenched, and her eyes open, but fixed. It was not a fainting fit; It' was a sunstroke 1 - After watching by her ride for two nights, Baker was gratified at hearing a faint “ Thank God ” escape from her lips. She had awakened from her torpor, but her eyes were full of madness I She spoke; but tho brain was gone 1 • , For several days his wifo suffered from an acute at tack of brain fever—days of intense anguish to Baker; yet day after dav, with the poor, Buffering woman car ried in her hammock, were tho party forced to march, for famine had surely ended them all bad they tarried. For seven ‘ weary nights had he watched tenderly at her bedside, until finally nature succumbed, and ho be came insensible, thoroughly worn out with Borrow and fatigue. In tho meantime, his men had put a new handle to the pickaxe, and sought for a dry spot to dig tho wife’s grave. Wo will permit Baker to tell the rest In his own words: . . “ Tho sun had risen when I awoke. I had slept, and, horrified aa the idea flashed upon mo that ehe must bo dead, I started up. She lay. upon her bed, pale oa marble, and with that. calm ccrenlty that the fcahircs assume when the cores of life no longer act upoff the mind, and the body rests In death. The dreadful thought bowed mo down; but, aa I gazed upon her in .fear, her cheat gently heaved, not with the convulsive throbs of .fever, but naturally. She web asleep; and when at a' sudden noise she opened her eyes, they were of.im and clear. She was saved 1 When not a ray of hope remained, God alone knows what helped us. The gratitude of that moment I will not attempt to de scribe.” $ ' is tho title of tho most strongly-marked piece of verse in the number. It is by Thomas Dmm English: Take care and moye. me easy, boys, and lot the doctor seo * » • F there’s any uso to try and patch what little’s left of mo. There—that’ll do. It’s all no uso—l seo it in yonr •ye. . Touneodn’t purse your mouth that way—Van Talents got to die; And if there really be no chance to save a fellow’s ' • life— . Wall, well! tho blast was quite enough, and we’ll excuse the knife. •Tost loose my collar gently, boys,—it hurts mo as I lie; - . _ Fat something underneath my head—don’t raise me quiteeo high;' And lot me have some water—Ah-h! I toll you, that’s tho stuff; ~ Ik beats old rye—l ought to know—l’ve surely drank enough. You’ll eay whatever were my faults, to say the thing that’s right. • That Jim Van Valen never shirked his liquor or a light The; circuit-rider? What’s the use? I hardly think > one prayer. However long, has power enough my whole account to square; And at the day of Judgment, when the world its work is through, > And all the miners round about account for what they do, ' • - • ' The Lord above, who knows ah things, will be as Just tome And merciful—at oh events, with Him I’ll lot it be. Somehow my mind goes backward, s boys, to many years ago, ' V To the valley of tho Overproek, and the farm-house long and low, • ■When I wandered on the Palisades to gather Pinxtor bloom, And, mixed with lilacs, mother placed them in oar sit ting-room. ....... ' • * »- I see them in the fire-place, in that pitcher while and •high— ' , What queer things come across the mind, when one s about to die! Why, I can see the orchard, boys,, upon tho aidoling : • hill; . The place I fished for Lillies in the crooked PeHnm Kill; • - Tho deep hole where tho pickerel toy—tho rascal long and lank, ... I caught him with a noose of wire, and snaked him on the bank; The places In tho meadow where, I wont to trap tne mink; ■ *. The mill-pond by the roadside where I drove tho cows to drink. And there was little Kitty, boys, her house riaa close to ours, The gardens almost joined, but she was prettier than the flowers. . Wo went to school in winter-time upon the Tincck road, * - » And when I put her books with mine it seemed to ease v- the load; - • But when wo both grew up, somehow I wasn’t quite so near— She married Peter Brinkerhoff—and . that is why I m here. There was my good old father, boys, with stern and rugged brow-r I used to think him hard on mo—l know him better now;. And, then, my dear old mother, with that pleasant ' smile of. here— ' O what a gush of tenderness the thought within me stirs I Come, father, raise me in your arms; and, mother, stroke my brow— . . Your hand is cool—what odd conceit! they’re neither living now. They’re gone, the old YanYalcns, boys—there's no one left but mo, And lam going too—and so I send no word, you boo. The boya 1 used to play with, and tho girls I used to .know, Grown up to men-and women, have forgot me long ago! * ■ : I’ve not been to Bergen County now for many and many A day, And no ono there would care to hear what I might Lave to say. I find I’m getting weaker, boys, my eyes are growing rilm T There’s something dancing m the air; my head begins to swim. . ... . "Water I—Tbat’B good 1 that stirs m« up ! that gives mo life again! • . You talk about your dead men—why, I’m just as good as ten. . There’s something heavy on my breast—you take the thing away— „ . . Mother 1 there’s Kitty Damarcat—may I go out—to— Play*. , ‘ ' • . , 'William J. Starks gives some timely informa tion concerning CUBA AND THE CUBAN REVOLUTION. The Spanish volunteers, wlioab~ dreadful atroci ties have made them so ominously well-known, were organized juDt after the revolution of 1868 in Spain, and thcT outbreak immediately after wards in Cuba : These Spanish vohintoora of Cuba, though they have acquired a reputation by no means enviable, are os fine a body of citizen soldiery as can bo found in any country. Their hatred toward tho Cubans at the commencement of the insurrection was intense, incited not only by political antagonism; but also by-tho con temptuous treatment they habitually received prior to the outbreak. For tho moat part of very humble origin, a hard-working, thrifty race, they wore socially looked down upon by the Creoles with much the same hauteur with which tho Cavalier regarded the Bound heads. . . • The course pursued by tho volunteers during the first months of tho insurrection and of their organiza tion forced many of the more prominent Cubans, who were desirous of maintaining their allegiance to Spain. Into tho ranks of- tho insurgents. At the breaking out of the insurrection, tho great majority of the leading Creoles in Havana were In favor of accepting such re forms as would remedy their grievances, and of con tinning under the flag of Spain. All the .reforms ilc minded were readily promised, bnt, in view of the many promises theretofore made and broken, some guarantee was demanded. Thii, - under- tho peculiar condition of Soalu and the Island, was difficult, and vet It 1s probable that an arrangement of this sort might have been made, and Cabans of great prominence and influence would have used their endeavors for peace, had it not been for the efforts of thoee who occasioned tho outbreak of Yan, who de termined to make such a breach between the natives and Spaniards in tho capital of tho Island that any reconciliation should be impossible. To this end a series of dramatic performances were insti tuted at the Villanueva Theatre, In which the Spaniards and tho Spanish flag were grossly Insulted. The • flret and second of these, which took place on tho evenings of tho 20th and 21st of January, 1369; passed off with out any disturbance; but tho volunteers, who bad just been organized and armed, determined to interfere should a third be attempted. On tho evening of tho 22d, soon after nightfall, largo numbers of them se creted themselves in the ditch fronting the old wall near tho theatre building. One of their number en tered the saloon, with Instructions to fire his pistol as a signal the moment a treasonable word was ut tered. Scarce had tho play begun when tho sound of the explosion floated out on the tropical night, and an armed mob of more than 200 men, maddened with bigotry and rage, poured in volley after volley upon the hapless audience. In vain Spanish officers, who were present, tried to control the enraged assassins; tho pitiless fire continued, and the young and the lovJv, men and women, fell dead or grievously wounded, until an opening wa* made through the side of the frail building and tho people were enabled to avertiblo reign of terror commenced; , other buildings were fired into by volunteer* as they marched alone the *tr*ota j assassinations became alarmingly frequent, and rumors of a contemplated massacre of every native became current. As the result, a general exodus of Cubans to tho United States took place, particularly of the more prominent, who were thus driven into rebellion against the Govern ment and to the assistance of their brothers in the

field. Goorgo Mac Donald translates another SPIRITUAL 6053 from the Gorman of Nbvalia: ~ The times are all so fearful I The heart so full of cares I To eyes that question tearful The future spectral stares. Wild terrors creep and hover With foot co ghastly soft I Tho soul black midnights cover lake mountains piled aloft. Firm props like reed* are waving; For trust is left no stay; Tho thoughts, with whirpool-ravingj No more the will obey. Franzy, with eye resistless. Decoys from Truth’s defense \ Life’s pulse is flagging listless, ■’ And dull Is every sense. Who hath the cross upheaved, " To shelter and-make whole ? Who lives from sight received, That he may help tho soul ? Haste to tho tree of wonder; Give silent longing room; Outgoing flames asunder Will cleavo the phantom-gloom. Draws thee an angel tender • In safety on the strand; Lo I at thy feet In splendor, Outspreads the promised land. In tho “ Old Cabinet” are given thoao two tieautifnl * BOSKETS, 'mitten in imitation of the chaste and amorous style of Petrarch and other Italian poet-lovers: To one xchb asked him of a lady'a 9 rac^' I like her brown small hand that sometimes strays. To find the place, through the same book with mine, I like her feet,—and O her eyes aro And when I wy farewell, perhaps ehe sUys With downward look, rvwmlc, love-lingmngV-- Then quick, as eho would have that pain booh over. I like the mandolin wheroon she plays : I like her voice better than anything. _, • Yet I lf>». too, the scarf her neck doth cover,. Also the littlo ribbon in her hair. ...... I like to see bier stepping down a Btalr, And well I like the door that she comes through. But then vonknowl am that lady’s lover, And eTery'ncw day there is something new. Of hit love for a lady, I know not if I love her overmuch,— ■Rut this I know, that when nnto her face - She lifts her bend, which rests there tiU s. spac. Then slowly falls,—’tis I who feel thst tpuch. And when she sudden shakes her bead with such A look. I soon her secret meaning trace; So when ahe runs I think tis I who race. Lite n poor cripple who has lost his cratch - lam If she Is gone; and when she goes, • I know not why,—for that is » ‘ art, -t As if myself should from mysdf depart. . , I know not if I lore her more than thoso Her lovers. But when she ahull fall asleep, . It is not I who will be left to weep. , . . - PHEVESBION on CUnELTI TO MEN AND WOMEN. Dr. Holland says : ■ Wo need in New York a society for ths preyention of cruelty to men and women. Tne officers of the law S' proved themselves to be inefficient for this pur pose, and wo need some men, acting for > powerful ns aoctation,*to do for men, women, and children pre cisely what Mr. Bergh Is doing for animals. Children mover-worked, or are pm to work at too tender an age - landlords are mercenary, and compel poor ten sits to Uto in buildings that are unfit for hnmm resi dence ; employers of dependent women refuse fair payment for work, and leave them without redress: women are insulted in omnibuses and hono-cars, and by-ptaces, and have no protection. Men are bract by thie ves In broad daylight, and robbed and maltreated. We know of .women who have ridden past a dozen blocks in a public conveyance, vrith a husband on.one side of them and a villain on the other, submitting to Insults from the latter all the way, rather than en danger the life of the former by complaint. It has com to this In Now York, that , women who »ro sup posed to bo riding under protection feel compelled to iimoro Insults In order to save their protectors from danger. The lesson of the Footer case waa a fearful one. Tb« field for too operations of sucb a society u tne one we propose Is immense. : Wo have only indicated a few of the evils which it would do much to remedy. Its office, of course, should be simply auxiliary to that of tho authorities. It should ferret oat abuses and expose them. It should take hold of old evils and bring them to destruction. It should stand behind every poor and feeble man, and assist him to maintain his rights. It should see that every woman has pro tect! c&in every thoroughfare of this groat city. It should become a volunteer conscience to the law itself, and a stimulating influence upon all its officers. It should furnish moral Impulse, money, and brains wt-rover they are needed, to root out wrongs, bring criminals to Justice, protect innocence and helpless ness, and insist on the execution- of laws -which • tho officers of tho law regard with indifference or repug nance, There Is not an owner of a horse in Hew York who docs not feel tho influence of Mr. Bergh upon him, and who, when tempted to cruelty, docs not look round mm to see whether any of his officers are watching. Tho same influence brought to bear upon all who are tempted to wrong-doing toward men, wo men, and children, would repress a world of crime every year. The eye of a gigantic association, with $1,000,000 at its back, watching everywhere about tho city, would bo protection in itself, and the hand of such an association would become the right hand of tho law. Such an ascociation is just as practicable and Jost as legitimate as that for suppressing obscene liter ature or any other nuisance. Who will move in it, and take the quickest open opportunity for immortality 7 cnAßmrs that cost utile os no money. ' Thia la not a new suggestion, but ia a good odd, that cannot bo too often repeated: Not long since a gentleman visiting a charity hos pital, remembering that ho hod some illustrated papers iu his pocket, gave them to an old roan there who could not road. He would have forgotten the circumstance if he Tv*d not been reminded of it by one of tho physicians, of the institution whom he met afterward, t*He. has not yet finished studying those pictures,” continued tho doctor after , mentioning the In cident. il Do you remember the dull, vacant counte nance of tho man f You would bo surprised now at its sprightllnesfl, and when I spoke to him of tho change ho said! “0, Doctor! you can’t know what a joy these papers have been to mo I I have lain on this bed week after week. I have counted again and again all the squares in this counterpane; I can shut my eyes and put my finger on any particular figure In it, I know every speck on the wails of my room. . I can tell Just how many bricks In the wall of tho opposite building be counted through my window, and I have been eo tired until I got these papers.* ” - _ Is not such a result worth the expenditure of a little trouble, a postage-stamp, and a newspaper wrapper 7 Generous-hearted people often complain that they can give nothing, because they have no money to bestow; and yet there are so many tender charities that require very little money, and sometimes none at all. If travelers would in ail' books and Journals to some charitable institution, instead of leaving them scat tered about in cars and hotels, tho benefit conferred would bo out of all proportion to tho sma'l amount of trouble requisite, ‘ Stay-at-home readers can take thoir discarded books to some poor unfortunate they may chance to know, or send them to those who are inter ested in public charities, that they may dispose of them. And even many invalids (who are generally great readers) will, doubtless, bo glad to learn t_afc although apparently able to do so Uttlo for themselves or any one else, they have this opportunity afforded so greatly helping other invalids, mora un fortunate than*themselves, to an enjoyment for which they are too poor to pay. CATHOLIC WORLD. 'The leading article in the Catholic World is on THE EVOLUTION OF LIFE,” in which that doctrine, as elucidated by Darwin, Wallace, and its other adherents, is considered in its bearings on. revealed religion. Its drift may be seen from the last paragraph ; No; whatever force the special Darwinian theory may have to the student of anlmaLlife, to the student of man as an animal it can have very little tohim who views man in his higher manifestations. What ever else it may account for, it never can throw any Hcbt on the facts of man’s moral nature. It never can explain tho origin of a being who believes In puri- Darwinian, Indeed, explain. If he can, how, if man owes his existence and hla development, physi •caL moral, and mental,- to success In the struggle for oxistcncc-Un other words,, to natural selcctioxi--rmd this success, in turn, to the exercise of the sdfirii or combative faculties, or to both combined—faculties which, according to this theory, ho must have exer cised. his present and previous states taken.together, for ages unnumbered—so long, indeed, that they ought to have grown into uncontrollaole instincts —and which aro the only ones ho can have exercised from the begin ning, to which, therefore, as the most imperious, all others should be subordinate—let him, wo say, explain who can bow this tendency to battle, inherited through la finite ages, has not taken complete possession of man. nor caused his life to be a continual strife with hla fellows: let him explain bow, instead of all this, there are men who have learned, not to hate, but to love their ene mies. to compassionate tho weak, tho poor, and the lowly, to nurso tho tick and the dying, to care oven for tho dead: hoy, how it comes thut thoro sro men who are guided by tho sublime command: Love them that hate you, blcas them that curso you, pmy fer them that persecute and calumniate youor,-further yet, how, in epito of the exercise of the selfish and combative qualities, in tho struggle for existence, tho tendency of which must hsvo boon to strengthen by use tho organs of destruction, tho same organs should grad ually disappear, and that in man not ono of them should be loft, _ , ... Lot him explain, again, how out of mere animality, by “natural selection,’’ out of tho mere brute, in a “ struggle for existence,” beings should como—men to whom this would bo a law : Bo pure ; for” he that looketh after a woman to lust after her hathalready committed adultery with her in his heart,” Biers are such mon-men to whom tlila Is a. law, andlwho.obey it. Will a Vogt or a Buchner believe it 7 Will a Dar win account for It by “natural selection FimJlv, let bim oxplainhow, if man has always been only cro wing out of some lower condition, ho has yet learned, in a measure, to go beyond himself, to harbor an Ideal which he has never reached, but towards which ho ever strives, inasmuch endeavors to fulfill tho command of the Son of Tsod: Bayo per fect, os my heavenly Father also is perfect. THE OTHER CONTENTS ABE Peace: Dantc’a Purgatorio-; Tho Russian Idea; My Cousin's Introduction; Madame Agnes; Conciliar De crees on the Holy Scriptures; Myths and Myth-Mong crstHeaven: Dies Irro ; Woman as a Bread-Winner; Abraham 44 Abron 44 Auburn Fontainebleau; Brittany—lts People and its Poems; I ** l^"* o * Worse 44 Bcati Qui Lugeant John Baptist do Rossi ami tig Archeological Works; New Publications, OLD AND NEW. Mir.r Emily Faithfoll has on article in Old and for May! entitled * “a LIBERAL'S VIEW OF ENQILSn LOYALTY.* 1 She says: , The lovalty which now exists In England has been defined as the loyalty which fancies it has a philosoph ic justification in the necessity of human sodety—tno loyalty which reverences the throne on account of its historic records, and tho loyalty of 14 national bump- It is. perhaps, true that the British public, not un derstanding the mysteries of tho civil fist, hold to the belief that they keep the Queen and the royal family. The crowd which cheers so heartily as the royal car riage rolls by. doubtless rcgards.tho scarlet-clad foot men with a feeling of increased satisfaction as the fact becomes more and more apparent that the Queen and her children, with their gorgeous surroundings, are, after all, but paid servants of the Slate, ~ And it must also be confessed that the dislike of paying so much for so little is now increasing In Eng land There arc long-suffering rate-payors who read certain court-circular announcements respecting tho growing number of her Majesty’s grandchildren, and ask. 44 How long are these personages to bo supported on the toil of others ?” , . But at tho wtma time, aa long an undue extravagance is avoided, to tho country at largo the display of royal splendor has always been agreeable; for while we pay handsomely to keep. our court moving in befitting state and grandeur, wo know perfectly well why we do it and are proud to remember meanwhile that, if the time arrives when a change proves necessary, our system of government will go bn as smoothly and effectively without, as with, a crowned President, who, by tho way, has hardly Presidential powers, and is not even tho keeper of her own conscience. Putting aside those demonstrative persons to whom I have jdready alluded, it will not bo too much to say that the loyalty of Englishmen is made up of contentment with an institution which works well.—better ’ than in many of the neigh boring countries of Europe,—and belief in and devotion to a principle which they have the power to keep within its legitimate limits. Tho costliness of the machinery may bo a sore offense to the Republi cans of out count!?; but tho bulk of tho people, when assailed on the subject of monarchy, shrug their shoulders, acknowledging, perhaps, that, if It were a Question of beginning again, the throne would not be • established as the centre of the machinery of tho State; bnt in the end they declare they would rather bear the ills they have than fly to others that they know not of. -Even Sir Charles Dilke, one of our foremost Republi can leaders, seems lately to have como to tho conclu sion that tho reforms of which ho has been so fearless an allvoc&te, arc perfectly compatible with monarchy. In fact, virtually wo arc a self-governing people; and tho English lovo too much an abstract idea to put aside their monarchy so long as they and their schemes of government are not inteferod with. ■ HIBCELLA2TEOU9. Mr. Frederic B. Perkins continues hia story of « Scrope: or,, tho Lost Library.” Although it hss reached only its sixth chapter, this serial ia already Taunted by cnthneiaetic Eastern critics as tho long-aonght great, American noTol; but there’e many a dip between tho covers of these 'great American novels. .Still, the talo nnfoida moat encouragingly. - ‘ Hr Hale has ono of hie able articles on “ Tho Bovlsion of tho Bible and Joseph P. Quincy follows a train of thoughts which no introduced in proyionn article, by discussing the advisability of tho secularization of our church-lands. LIPPiNCOTTS. In the, May LippincoU, 3. 0. Clarke relates some of hie adventures in . BAUION-IT3EISO IN CANADA My earliest experience in ealmon-flshing waa on the Betti goncho, a etroam flowing into tho Bay of Chalour. At first, my efforts were followed only by failures, for 'the taking of a salmon requires both knowledge and dexterity. Finally, however, my pexaeverance won for me s decided triumph. ’ ■ . I found In my book a casting-lino of double gut; it was only two yards long, but I thought I had hotter trust to it than the single gut which the flsh had been breaking for me the last two days. I also found in my book a few. large, showy sahnon-fllea tied on double gut ■ with these I itaried, determined to do or die. I was on tho pool at 5 a. m., and had raised two salmon,- and caught two large tront, which often took oar flies when we were casting for bigger flsh. At 6.-301 raised and booked a big flsh, which ran ont twenty yards of lino, and then stopped. I determined, to try the ‘ waiting method this time, and not to lose my fish by too much haste: so I lot him have his own way, only holding him with a tight hand. Joe, I soon saw, understood his part of the business: he kept the canoe close behind the fish, so that I should always hare a reserve of line upon my reek - My salmon made two runs without showing himself: he pulled hard, and was evidently a strong flsh. He now tried to work himgftlf across the'river into the heavy current. I re sisted this, but to no purpose: I could not hold him, and I thought ho was going down the little rapid, where I could not have followed, when he steered down through the still and deepwater, and went'to . the bottom near the camp. There ho stayed, sulking, for more than an hour, and I could not start him. The cook came down from his Are to see the conflict * Joe lighted hia pine and smoked it out; old Captain Morrill, who lived on the opposite bank, came ont and hailed me, “ Reckon you’ve got a big one this time, Judge and still my lino pointed to the bottom of the river, and my hands grew numb with holding the rod. They have tied me to the stake; I cannot fly. Bat, boar-Uko, 1 mast fight the eoarso. Suddenly, up from the depths came the salmon, and made off at fall speed down the river, making his first leap as ho went, which showed him to be a twenty pounder at IcasL Wo followed with the canoe. On the west side of the island ran the main channel, wide and deep, gradually increasing In swiftness till it be came a boiling torrent. Into this my flsh plunged, in spite of all my and all wo could do was to follow. But 1 soon lost track of him and control of him ; sometimes ho was ahead, and I could feel him; sometimes ho was alongside, and the line was slock and dragging ou the water, most dangerous of post* tloiis; sometimes the canoe went fastest, and the salmon was behind me. My men handled the canoe admirably, and brought me through safe, fish and oil; for when we emerged into the still pool below, and I was able to reel up, I felt him on the hook, but unsub* dued, for be made another run of thirty yards, and leaped twice. , ■ • *♦ That’s good said Joe ; u that will tire him." Tot the first two hours of the struggle the fish had been quiet, and so bad saved his strength, but now he began to race up and down the pool, trying for slack line. But Joe followed him up sharply, and kept him well In hand. - Now the fish began to jigger, and shook hia head so hard and so long that I thought something must give way—either my line or his spinal column. After about an hour of this kind of work, I called to TtnfTmnn ) \yhn waa'flfihlng not far off, and asked him to come alongside and play my fish for a few minutes, so that I might rest my hands, which were cramped with holding the rod so long; . .which he did, and gave me fifteen minutes' rest, when I re sumed the rod. The fish now seemed somewhat spent, for he came to the surface and flounced about, so that we could see his large proportions. Still, I could not get him alongside, and I told Joe to try to paddle up to him, but be immediately darted away from us and headed up stream, keeping a parallel course about fifty feet off, so that we could see him perfectly through the clear water. After many efforts, however, ho grow more tame, and Louis paddled the canoe very carefully up to him, while Joe stood watch ing his chance with the gaff, which ho put deep in the water. At last I got the fish over it. when with a sud den pull the gaff was driven into him Just behind the dorsal fin; but he was so strong that I thought ho would have taken the man out of the canoe. The wa ter flow in showers, and the big salmon lay in the bot tom of the boat 1 I could hardly believe my. eyes. That tremendous creature caught with a line no thicker than a lady’s hair-pin! I looked at my watch; it was eleven o’clock, just four hours and a half. “‘Well, I have done enough for Unlay, Joe : let us go home to breakfast.” Arrived at the camp, we weighed the salmon and measured him—twenty-four pounds, and forty inches long, a pgh, fresh run from the sea; the strongest and most active of hia kind. It had been my luck to hook these Mg ones: I wished that my first encounters should bo with flsh of ten.br twelve pounds. Rodman cime in with two—fourteen and sixteen pounds. ‘ Reginald Wynford, in QUEES VICTOEIA AS A describes tho eccentric John Camden Neild, who distinguished himself a short time ago' by be queathing all his property to the Queen; He was son of a Mr. James Neild. who acquired a large fortune os a gold and silversmith. He received every advantage in the way of education, graduated M. A. at Trinity College, Cambridge,* and was subse quently called to tho bar. He proved, however, the very reverse of his benevolent father. He was a miser bom, and hid all his talents in a napkin, making no use of his wealth beyond allowing it to accumulate. From the'date of the death of his father, who left him .£250,000, .borides real estate, ha had spent but a . portion of nls Income, and allowed himself scarcely the necessaries of life. Ho usually dressed in a blue coat with metal buttons. This be did not allow to be brushed, Inasmuch os that process would have worn the nap. Ao waa never known to wear an over coat. Ho gladly accepted invitations from his tenantry, and would remain on long visits, because he Qms saved board. A few days before his death he told ono of his executors that he had made a most singular will, but that ho had a right to do what ho liked with his own. When the document was opened it was found that, with the exception of a few small legacies, ho had left all “to Her Moat Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, begging Her Majesty’s most gracious acceptance of tho same, for her sole use and benefit, and that, of her heirs.” Probably vanity'dictated this bequest. To a poor old housekeeper, who had served him twenty-six years, ho left nothing; to each of his executors, £IOO. But tho Queen made a handsome provision for the former, and presented £I,OOO to each of tho latter; and she further raised a memorial to the mlseris memory. The prop erty bequeathed to her amounted to upward of £500,- 000; so that supposing Her Majesty to have spent ev ery penny of her public and Duchy of Ton castor in comes, and to have only laid by this legacy and the interest on it, she would from this source alone now # bo worth at least £1,000,000. Be this as it may, even that portion of tho public which survives her will never know the amount of her wealth, f6r tho wills of Kings and Queens are not proved; so that there will bo no enlightenment on this head in the pages of tho Illustrated London Xea3. A good deal of sympathy la felt in England for tho Prince of Wales in reference to hia money-matters: His mother’s withdrawal from representative func tions throws perforce a great deal of extra expense upon him, which be is very 111 able to bear. He is expected to subscribe liberally to every conceivable charity, to bestow splendid presents (hero his mother has always been wanting), and in every way to vie with, if not surpass, tho nobility; and all this with £IIO,OOO a year, whilst tho Dukes of Devonshire, Cleveland, Bacdouch, Lords Westminster, Bute, Lons dale, and a hundred znoro noblemen and gentlemen, have fortunes double or treble, no Lords and grooms in waiting to pay, and can subscribe or decline to *ub scribo to the Distressed Muffinmakcra* and Cabmen’s Widows* Associations, according to their pleasure, without a murmur on the part of the public. About fire years ago the press generally took this view of the subject, and a rumor ran that the Govern ment fully intended to ask for an addition to the Prince’s income; but nothing was done- Wo have rea son to believe that tho hesitation of tho Government arose from the apprehension that it would bring on an Inquiry os to the Queen’s income and what became of it. Opinion ran high among both Whigs and Tories that if Her Majesty did not please to expend In representative pomp the revenues granted to her for that specific purpose, eho should appropriate a handsome sum * annually to her son. It may bo urged, “Perhaps she does so,” and in reply it can only bo anld that in such case the secret is singularly well kept, and that those whose position should enable them to give a pretty shrewd guess at the state of the case persist in averring tho contrary. However, it will no doubt be all the better for the royal family in the end. The Queen is a sagacious woman. She no doubt fully recognizes tho fact that the British public will each year become more and more Impatient of being required to vote away handsome annuities for a succession of princelings, whilst at tho same time it may look with toleration. If not affection, upon a num ber of gentlemen and ladles who ask for nothing more than the cheap privilege of writing “ Boyal Highness n before their names. If, then, Queen Victoria bo by her retirement and frugality accumulating a fortune which prQl make tho royal family almost independent of a Parliamentary grant in excess of tho income which tho Crown revenues represent, she Is no doubt acting with that deep good sense and prudence which are a part of her character. Taking her, then, for all in all, Queen Victoria la not only the best, but probably the cheapest, sovereign England ever had; and her people, although inclined, as is their wont, to grumble that she doesn’t spend a little moro money, feel that she haa so few faults that they enn well afford to.overlook this. Deeply loved by them, she 1* yet moro respected. THE OVERLAND. IX 44 THE OOLD-SAXD9 OF THE PACIFIC,” Monroe Thomson lays bare one of the most ex traordinary and valuable mineral resources of the Pacific Coast : •. The existence of auriferous Bands upon the ocean beach was first made known to tho public by tho u Gold Bluff excitement” some eighteen or twenty years ago, caused by the discovery of gold in paying quantities among the sands of tho beaph on the northern coast, near the month of the Klamath Elver. Few old resi dents of California can have forgotten the “ rush” of miners to tho now placers at that time, os it was one of. the first of the series of mining excitements \whlch have become a feature in the history of the settlement of this coast by Americans. The larger portion of the • gold escaped; yet, for a short time, tbo richest placers yielded, to a few lucky individuals, immense profits.* Hundreds of dollars,, and, in some instances, we be lieve, as much as SI,OOO a day per man, were realized from the imperfect mode of working then in use. ' Those gold-sands ore found along tbo beach from Vancouver's Island to Lower California. They are very rich, but very hard to work, on account of tbo great fineness of the particles. How far out under tho ocean the sands extend, is not known. have been made twelve miles outward from 'Gold Bluff, and gold was found in equal profusion all the way: Some of the sands brought up by the lead used -in making tho soundings contained, by assay, a fabulous ■ quantity of gold. Indeed, tho results reported are so extraordinary that we will not tax tho credulity of our readers by giving the' exact figures. Suffice it to say, that aande bare been actually obtained from under the water, near the shore, which assayed 'thousands of dollars to tho ton.' Tho source of these rich sands is hollared to be intho bluffs along the shore: There is abundant evidence that the bluffs of aurif erous aond ;and gravel, -which form tho shore where these rich beach sands are found, are the real sources from whence they were derived. The waves-of tho sea have for ages been tearing down these bluffs, and con centrating their sands upon the gently sloping beach, in *be same manner as they ore concentrated in the sluice, by the action of running water. Tho conclu sion is natural, therefore, that the beach is richest a down the elope, under the water, where the riffles are formed by the breaking of the waves as they near the shore. That great wealth has thus accu mulated on the beach, below the water-line, cannot be doubted, since the sands obtained as far out as possi ble, at low tide, are invariably the richest. This theory is strengthened by the recent dis covery and partial development of an ancient deposit of auriferous black eaud, at an elevation of nearly 200 feet above the levohcf the sea. of similar character to tho deposit on r tho present ocean-beach: A few years ago, one of thoce, nomadlo individuals dwelling on our borders discovered, in his wanderings in tiie forest two or three miles back from the ocean beach, at Whisky Run, near Coos Bay, in Oregon, a. rich deposit of auriferous block sand, that had been exposed by a little stream of water, in a ravine leading down to the tea. It proved, bn examination, to be not only very rich, but extensive. Making known his discovery to a citizen of his acquaintance, in the near est village; they proceeded to work the claim, and took out nearly $125,000 in two or three months, by tho * ordinary mode of washing—and saving, in fact, bat & small portion of tho gold. Tho character of the posit being identical with that of tho beach-washings • on the shore below, indicated that the newly-disoorcred deposit had a -similar origin; and further develop ments demonstrated that it was, in reality, an old ocean beach, buried under the soil and a heavy growth of timber. The waters of the ravine, having cut their way down through the soil and into the underlying de posit of sand, hod thus revealed its existence. The discovery was an Important one, ond the original claim ants soon found a purchaser for their mine, at a good . price, who has since developed tho extent and quality of the deposit, showing it to be of groat value. This claim, belonging to Joseph Lono (a son of the old Oregon pioneer of that name), and the one adjoining, belonging to F. G. Lockhart, h&vo been and still are _ profitably worked, though only from 15 to 20 per cent*: • of the gold, as shown by assay, la saved. But too gold that may be obtained from these black sands constitutes but a moiety of their actual voluo. Pare black sand of this character contains 72 per cent of iron, and is acknowledged to bo tho purest iron ore known. It la highly magnetic, and recent discoveries - and tests establish tho important fact that it may bo converted directly into the best quality of steel, almost os cheaply as pig-iron is produced. The beach-sand described contains more or less silica, or white sandy sufficient, perhaps, to reduce its average to 50 per cent of Iron: requiring two tons of- sand to make one ton • of metal Common pig-iron is worth over SSO per ton,, and steel is worth several times as much; and the do- . maud for both is increasing aQ over the world. Immense quantities of these magnetic iron-gauds exist on our coast, and they are convertible into steel, of the best quality, about as easily and cheaply aa pig-iron can be made.- It needs only the application of skill and capital to create at onco a new and im portant branch of industry on this coast, that prom ises enormous profits to those who are enterprising enough to engage it. “busteb,” as described bj Prentice Mulford, personifies a class of speculators—those who deal in imaginary mines and fancy mining stocks—who are moro rapacious, more cruel in their deceits, than even, the railroad thieves of Lombard street and the New York Stock Exchange, who inveigle rich and poor into their webs, and are served by Ministers Plenipotentiary: - Buster is gone. Ton are the owner of 100 shares in the King Solomon. Price—well, a year’s Income. 1 will show yon the King Solomon Mine. "We travel many days* in Arizona. Heat, scor pions, and alkali-dust. torment you, blind your eyes, sting you. Apaches hunger and thirst for your scalp. A country bare, burned barren, treeless, and gloomy—an appropriate ana gigantic vestibule to the infernal regions—stretches . day after day before you. By the roadsido skeletons of horses, oxen, mules, and lone graves of murdered, men. By'the evening camp-fire, stories of horrible Apache atrocity; of men hung by the heels, roasted and smoked to death;"of. men flayed alive; .of men dying for days with little Urea aflame all over them. These are morsels for midnight meditation, os you lie awake; * and, when the moon rises above tho horizon, so docs your hair, for that taD, branchless - cactus, seemingly stalking across its disk, looks every Inchon ’ Tnrtfon. . . At last, wo reach the settlement of O-Be-Jbyful—the last mining outpost, the last picket-guard of civiliza tion—a row of tenia and board shanties, every other one a bar-room, all filled with rough miners, gamblers, desperadoes, and rising American legislators settled hero to run for Congress. The thermometer daily registers its 115 degrees of heat; the hot winds whirl douse clouds of alkali-dust through the door and win dow ; the water yon drink is a solution of arsenic, sulphur, soda, copper; the whisky Is but colored ana dilated alcohol; a cup of coffee and a plate of fried parchment, . teemed steak, costs a dollar; tho street from end.. to end is strewn with monte end playing-cards; there is noth ing to read, save last year’s almanac: and every win dow shows ono pane cracked by a bullet. Tour slcep iug-room is full of mosquitoes, and directly over five noisy monte banka, whose business commences at mid night and lasts till dawn. Bat we must press forward. The King Solomon vina, the mill, the thousands paid to Buster, the mil lions to be realized in tho future, all beckon ns on.. We hire four mules and three desperadoes as a guard against Apaches. They could tell us before we started that the King Solomon la a myth, and the mine & fraud, but they refrain. We ore still live geese; wo bring golden eggs into the Territory. It is only each as we who refresh its currents of finance. For this our hired desperadoes will not themselves, rob and murder us, nor allow any such freedom to the Apache. We travel many days. Flour and bacon form on only sustenance. No vegetables, no fruit. Bilious horrors accumulate dally. Our dessert ties in the pill box. - ■ * We have found the King Solomon Mine. It is I<v cated in the Valley of the Shadow of Death—a crooked, rugged, precipitous canon, the walls of block, volcanic rock, rising hundreds of feet, on either side, almost perpendicularly. The ttrata are twisted, gnarled, and • npheaved at every angle, by subterranean force. Tho water, for bitterness, is Epsom salts, aloes, wormwood, flavored with soap-suds. No trees —no grass—no soil*. Wo are stung with cactus-spines, and stabbed by tho Spanish bayonet. What is that locust-like, whirring noise 7 A rattlesnake! There he glides, over tho hoc rocks. One of our desperadoes sends a bullet through, his backbone; but, though no longer able to * drag iHmeplf along, ho rattles still—he's game. What is that, scuttling up the hill-side, yonder? A porcu pine. Another bullet slope him. Down tho slope he roils; the dogs spring on him, and speedily return— their jaws and noses os full of short, finely barbedP quills, as a thickly studded pincushion. Yonder shoots a homed toad; and at our feet, clumsily crawls a hideous, hairy, black ball, on five long, slender legs a tarantula. Everything hero—insect, serpent, ani mal, or vegetable—carries venom, spines, thorns, and stings. What la that black shadow 7 A buzzard, float ing m the cloudless blaze overhead—waiting for us to lie down and die, that he may pick our honest AH around, in awful stillness, rise peaks—angular, sharp pointed, craggy, black, frowning, and gloomy. Hero is the “ mine,”—a jagged hole In the lodge, some four feet in depth; over it, a rough windlass, s coil of bleached rope, and a rotten tub. About, are empty' sardine-cans, old boots, and shattered whisky bottles, —Infallible tests of some former miner’s pres- . cnee. Hard by, tacked to a board, is the following: “ NOTICE. “ We, tho undersigned, claim each 300 feet on this* the King Solomon vein, by 150 feet in width, on either sldo of this notice, together with oil its spurs, dips, angles, side and cross leads; and intend working tho some at the first opportunity. “(Signed), Buster, ire* now understand, is working this' vein abroad. It is not always necessary to go down and la bor in a mine, to get gold by it, so long as there re mains money, ready coined, in credulous pockets, N. 8. Dodge relates somo “ STORIES.AXD TRADITIONS DOWX THE HILB.*’ After a long stroll through copge and grove, we emerged into an open space, by the city wall. There we met the Governor, taking an afternoon airing on a divan, placed under a spreading sycamore. Haronn took us.np to him, and, no doubt, told sad fables of our greatness, for his Excellency made much of us,. seating us in honor on either side of him, and dis patching a servant In hot haetofor pipes and coffee. ♦* My respects to their lordships*” said the Governor, through Haronn; 41 happy is tho day that sees them as Esne.” Ho was a flu e-iooking man, this satrap, with a high, intelligent forehead, deep-set eyes, and ample beard. His showy turban was bonneted grace fully on his head, and his dun robe girt' with a Damascus scarf. A well-bred man, too— as, indeed, are moot oriental officials—of ex quisite polish; though, when bo got angry, the cast of his features would alter unpleasantly. “ "Wallah,” - he cried. “ hero la more work,” as two shop-keepers, attended by a kawtss, came up to receive It was a matter of disputed debt. Tho litigants wore friends who had quarreled. “Friendship,” the Gov-" emor observed, aside to us, “Is weak and wavering as tho shade of the acada-tree.” They addressed him deferentially. He listened patiently ,to the pleaders, between bis puffs of smoke.- They were Impassioned, but ho was calm. Finally, without turning his head .to look at them—for they stood behind him—he gave judgment in a word. 14 Let tho debt,” said ho, 44 be paid before Kama dan, or give the debtor a dozen fashes on hi*! feet, and repeat them weekly until the debt ia paid.” The pleaders walked away musingly, and tho kawass lighted his pipe. It was a sentence without appeal. * The editor of tho Overland is not ardently In love with THE PEACE POUOT which has all tho enchantment of distance for the Groat Father at Washington and tho padno Broadbrims of Pennsylvania : The terrible sacrifice of Gen. life by the Mo docs, and the circumstances attending his death, seem to have been necessary for tho solution of a Jong-vexed question of great moment to tbo Bottlers In our fron tier States and Territories. Boring tho last quarter of a century, the soils of Arizona and New Mexico have. been sodden with the blood of our murdered fellow citizens, and the deep wall has gone up, unceasingly, from the bereaved families and friends of our hardy pioneers «iain by irreclaimable savages. But vain were these multiplied examples -of treach ery; vain the cries and groans of suffering vic tims ; vain the ntteringa and of men deeply versed in Indian character; vain the .expostu lations of tho entire press west of tho Rocky Moun tains, while tbo plausible sophistries of men who were never within a thousand miles of a war-whoop, found favor at Washington. At length, a man of mark, > brilliant soldier, a’noble gentleman, whose history is a record of faithful service, to his country, is atricl down by Indians at the very moment that ho Is en-. dcovering to render them important favor,'and tho na tional heart is paralyzed with affliction.' How, tho vicious tendency of a “ peace policy ”is made mani fest, and it becomes os clear as noonday that our savage tribes -can,.only be controlled through fear, and that prompt, vigorous, and efflcieiA demonstration of power is indispensable to procure that result. If a man’s flocks were harassed and torn by wolves, would he regale them with his fat sheep, in tho hope of converting them into faithful watch-dogs ? In the presence of the Ber. Dr. Thomas* dead body, exclusively peace advocates must stand silent and re buked ; but the blood of thousands who preceded him j equally the victims of savage treachery, only excited their clamor and opposition to sound policy, until it >i*g culminated in Irremediable national affliction. If -the loss of our murdered General shall ; provoke » change of management in our Indian affairs, he will have died rendering hie country the last, bat not the lust Important, service of fUs life. Flusteb, Duster,”