The mountain Democrat. [volume], May 30, 1863, Image 1

About The mountain Democrat. [volume] (Placerville, El Dorado County, Calif.) 1863-1943

Image provided by: University of California, Riverside; Riverside, CA

                
VOLUME X. i
the mountain democrat.
vr
oaz.wxoK8 St JAWCTAK V
». w. iiiwKn, *• *• awi,r ‘
Malta ntumr in aDTawrg—One Tear, §5; Six Month*,
*agV Three Month* • 1 fid; One Month i payable to the Car
fWr), Menu; Single Coplea, l'.'S cent*.
Aimnini<M)M Square. of 10linen, 11r*t inaartlon. 0.1;
aa«h #ab*equ«ot insertion. #1 M; Buainenn Card*. of inline*
„ l„, OM , ear f ij; Bu'iae** Card*, of 10 linea or le**.
. krM anatha. #10. A libnra) dtneaunt will tie made on (he
Mbnen rain* far yearly and quarterly advertiseunut*. wliiuh
•toned aoe nqaarn.
)0B PRINTING--Oar 0*ce In replete with all the naWra
Imnmeenaeata for the mir, ora*r urn naeio execution of
•nwrrntylear PRINTING, such a* Hooka. Pauphle't. Brief*,
PnalM HaadMlia. Cireulnrn. Ball Ticket*, Programmes. Cer-
MMMMn nf Stack or Depoait. Mlllheada. Check*. Receipt*,
Label a, etc., la plain or fancy colored ink*.
JUSTICES' BLANKS.—AtBdavlU Pndertaklng* and Writ* of
under th# new law, for aa'e at thin office: also,
Rlaak Declaration* of Homestead. the mo*t convenient f«*»
i a aK jn«t printed, a complete form of MINERS lif.Ao.
jLiiVa beautiful'.? executed M IRRUGF. CERTIFICATE.
t r. nsrfKR. ITt 1 : Will in:-* n -treet. oppoaltc Maguire**
Opera Bnn*e. la the nuly an V •• i \gent for the Mol n TAIN
•ICMOCRtT. lu the city of Sun Kr:*n<:i*cn. All or .."' .*»r
the Paper or Advertising left with him will be promptly at
leaded to.
Bi. L. flOCIRt in auiherlied to receive money* doe thi* Office,
far subscription.
W B- BROWN la the authortred Agent of the DEMOCRAT at
Own if town Orders for tin paper, mdverti'in*, or for job
war g > «Uh him, will be promptly attended to.
CBAS p. JACKSON ta tha authorlted Agent of the MOUN
TAIN DEMOCRAT at El Uorada. Order* left with him will
bn prwaapOy attended la.
■ ■ bidLKMA* lawur anthoriaed ageat at Sacramento —
All*order* for advertising, etc., left with him will receive Im
mediate attention.
A. |. L. DIAS In agent for the DtnoenaT at Virginia City,
Nevada Tenitnry
•OL. WM. KNOX la oar nnthorired ngeot at firlaaly Plat.—
All nrdara given him far the Democrat will be promptly at
tended ta.
Oflrr, on Coloma Street.
professional Carts, Etc.
B1NJ. BHBBWOOD,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,
rUcerrlD*, El Dorado County, California.
Me*—Dorsey's Building (up-rfalrt), Main at.
[maill ]
THOS. J. OHGON,
1TT01MT -AT-LAW ,
El Derado, El Dorado County. [malT
T. A. HOHNBLOWEB.
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW,
Win practice In all the Courts of the 11th Judicial
District. OFFICE—At Pilot Hill, El Dorado Coun
ly, niaylT-iim
Fesax Heaaroan, Twos. II. Wjujaus.
HEREFORD I WILLIAMS,
ATTORNEY a AND COUNSELLORS AT-LAW,
OArt—No. #0, J. street, oeer the St. Nicholas Sa
leee, flarrameato.
WIB pramce in the Supreme Court, and District
Court of Sacramento and adjoining counties. Idee*.
S, w. Satreeaane, Oeo. K. Wti ucus.
SANDERSON A WILLIAMS,
attorneys-at-law.
OSes—Douglas.' Building, next doer to the Cary
House, Mala street, PU'*ervilie. dec 6
O. W. GORDON,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,
Tirgiela City, N. T OWce in Collins’ Bu Minr.
B. street. [no VS*
A. O. PEARLS,
ATTORNEY- AT-LAW,
OAre la Deeglas.' Budding (up stairs), Msin street.
Pi Acer viUe.
fchtt
JOIta HCMI, M. C. «LO»S.
HOME * SLOSS,
ATTORN KYS-AT-LAW,
OIBceinlity Block, riscernlle.
Will praetieo Law in the Courts of El Dnradu and
adjoiein*Counties—in the Supreme Court, and the
Courts of Utah Territory. tuH
O. D. HALL, O. YALE,
/NucerrsV/e, Ain A rilni'Ceio,
Practice I-aw in all the Courts of Utah.
Others, at Carson and Virginia City. je3tl-tf
M. K. SHEARER,
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELS lit-AT-LAW, AND
NOTARY PUBLIC.
JV Office, at Residence. Main street, three
doors above Bedford Asenue, Placers tile. suit!
E. B. CARSON,
NOTARY PUBLIC AND CONVEYANCER,
a.an -—
Commissioner of Deeds for Nevada
Territory.
OSes in the Court House, Placcrvllle.
[novltl ]
DR I- 8- TITUS,
OSee—PoatoAce Block, up-stairt. (ap'Yl
Doofes, Stationery, Etc.
PLAZA BOOK STOKE,
PLACER VILLE,
Hat jutl received a splendid assortment of
Standard and Miscellaneous Works,
STATIONERY, SCHOOL BOOKS,
wrf NOU, ALBfllft, rCTLtftT,
fOTftp GOLD PENS, V10LIK8,
GUITARS, ACCUADlOllJ* MtlH' WXUft,
*ona* HTEMAOft, rrc., tnc. %
delected expressly for the Country Trftde, ftnd selling
at greatly reduced rate*. Also,
AGENTS
Par Sacramento Union, Alta California, Bulletin,
Mirror, etc.
VEW87AFEES AMD PERIODICALS
Kept caaatantly on hand, and sold nnnsually low.
m »r28 B- S. HERNANDEZ.
S. HARIUS,
Corner o/ Main Street and the Plata
PLACBftVILkl,
WHOLESALE AND E IT AIL DEALER IN
piavftBft Cigars, Tobacco, Boobs* Sta
tionery* Cutlery, Playing Cords*
Yankee Notions* Frnlts, Green
jknd Dried* Nuts and Candies,
if 8AM FRANCISCO PRICKS.
Mao,rocHves by every Steamer the latest Atlantic
gnd European Newspapers, Magazines and Perfodl
pats, and all the WEEKLY CALIFORNIA NEWSPA
PERS and MAGAZINES. mart*
FASHIONS FOB ALL SEASONS.
* # a
PABTIB8 visiting Raoramento, should bear In mind
that tlte only plain to buy a
FINE AND FASHIONABLE HAT
la at the extenalve Establishment of
LAMOTT—HATTER,
Corner of Second and J streets;
Where may alvaya be found the largest variety or
HATS, CAPS, FOBS, ROBES, ETC..
|n the State, which he guarantee! to tell LOWER
than any other House in the City. Call before far
phasing and examine hlx Hock. ’ septd
THE MOUNTAIN DEMOCRAT.
PL.ACEKVIL.LE, EL. DORADO COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, SATURDAY, MAY 30, 1863.
THE WRONG PICTURE.
The full sunshine came pouring through
.’.be plate glass windows of the great pho
“fljgraphrc saloon where Virginia Lynne
had become very tired of waiting ‘just
one minute’ for her turn to face the came
ra. If the camera had been a young gen
tleman it probably wouldn’t have objected
much to the process, as Virginia was not
at all disagreeble to look at —on the con
trary, she was very pretty, with a clear
olive complexion, deepening to a carmine
on her round cheeks, and large blue gray
eyes, just the color of violets, blossomed
in the shade. Jet black hair, plainly
brushed from her forehead aigf realised in
one knot at the back of her neck, and a
liVtW Tvi mouth, very saucy and some
what haughty also in its curves, completes
the picture.
‘Are you nearly to take my like
ness-, sir »’ she asked, rather impatiently,
as the operator entered the room on some
trilling errand.
‘Not quite yet, madam. We shall ba
soon, I hope, however. To tell you the
truth we didn't anticipate so much trou
ble from our present subject—a baby,
who will not sit still!’
‘A baby !—oh, then, I haven’t another
word to say,’ said Virginia", scornfully-ele
vating her pretty shoulders as she turned
towurd her companions. ‘I do detest
babies!’
‘Why, Virginia!’ exclaimed Mrs. Wal
ter. her matron sister, with unaffected
horror.
‘Can't help it—I never could endure a
baby ; that's one of the cherished articles
of my faith.'
‘And how many articles of faith have
you V laughingly inquired another com
panion.
*Oh, several. One is a hearty aversion
to widowers—that class of dyed over hus
bands, who are always alluding to Mrs.
Smith Number One! If I became that
lady's successor, I should be perpetually
fearful I was standing in the way of Mrs.
Smith Number Three! And then the
idea of washing the faces and combing the
hair of half a dozen unruly step children.
No second hand children for me, thank
you.'
Hut if Virginia could only have had a
peep into the operating room, where that
hazel-eyed baby with pink ribbons at its
shoulders and a string of red coral round
its plump neck, was setting photographi
st defiance, she would peri.aps have kissed
Us perfumed breath nearly away with true
feminine inconsistency !
'Harry, do sit still !’ pleaded the nurse
in despair, while the operator dodged
hopelessly to and fro, trying to ‘catch a
focus,' and two or three young lady aunts
jingled their w atcli chains and held up
tlnir bracelets in the vain endeavor to at
tract the little one’s eyes, liutif the quint
essence of obstinacy can be imagined to
fix its throne in a year old baby, that baby
w as tbe individual!
All of a sudden a bright winged canary
in a cage opposite began to sing piercing
ly. The scarlet lips opened into a won
dering smile—the large hazel eyes, that
had roved flow place to place, like chain
lightning, were fixed for a moment. The
operator jerked the drapery aw ay from his
instrument with tbe agility of magic; the
sunruys swept their pencils over the
gleaming plate, and
•uli, let me see it!’ shrieked aunts and
nurse in a confused treble chorus, crowd
mg round the photographer as, after a
short absence, he entered the room hear
ing the plate. ‘Only let me get one peep
at it!’
‘ How delighted Raymond will be!’
whispered one of the* young aunts to her
sister, as sheeaught the baby in her muis,
ciusliing her shining brown curls against
its silky little- head.
■Whc-e shall I send the cards, ma'am?’
asked the operator.
•To Captain May — Raymond May, Phil
adelphia. Just the address, please-—no
other word. We intend it for a birthday
sut prise to my brother.’
‘Very well, ma'am. Theodore-,’as soon
a- the- ladies had disappeared, he cried,
1 just w iite down the address, and teli the
young lady below that we are ready for
tier.’
Virginia Lynne must have been hard
indeed to please, had she been dissatisfied
with the lace reflected in the uiir. or, as
she took a last glance ere leaving the sa
loon down stairs. A proud, stately young
beauty; and heart free as the w ildest fawn
upon the eastern hills.
‘When can I have the picture?’ she
asked.
‘In about five days, ma'am.’
‘No sooner? 1 leave town to-morrow.’
‘We can send it to you by mail wherev
er you are, ma'am.’
She hurriedly wrote upon a card 'Miss
Lynne, Philadelphia, and pushed it to
ward him.
‘There is my address—please send it as
soon as possible.’
Captain May’s sitting room in the great
Philadelphia hotel was as snug a little den
as man need wish for, with its carved mar
ble mantel, bright patterned carpet, and
luxurious sofas and lounging chairs, and
Captain May himself, as he looked smiling
up from the perusal of a heap of papers
to greet the entrance of a companion, was
do unfair specimen of a handsome young
naval officer.
‘Well, Charley?’
‘Well, May—upon my word, if you’re
not up to your ears in those old naviga
tion charts again. It’s enough to make a
lazy man ache to see you work !’
•rt’s time to work,’ said May good hu
moredly. 'I expect sailing orders in about
a fortnight; and glad I shall be when they
come.’
'Lilad!' ejaculated Charles Monroe,
throwing himself into an arm chair, and
biting at the end of one of his friend’s
quill pens.
‘Yes, glad!’
‘May, you’re a perfect problem to me ;
as uneasy on dry land as a fish. I can't
understand it, banged if I can !’
‘Perhaps you could,' said May, calmly,
‘if you had no home ties—nothing to look
forward to—nothing to make life pleasan
ter in one spot tbau another, since Minnie
died—""' *' ‘
Re stopped abruptly. Monroe leaned
over with frank sympathy, to grasp his
friend’s hand.
‘Pardon me, Raymond I I’m a stupid,
blundering fellow, I know, but I don’t
mean to hurt you by my careless words.
Still there is your child left you.’
‘Dear littlo Harry,’ said Mar, half srai
ling, ‘bbt a year old baby isn’t much com
pany for a man of thirty, you must admit
Besides, W is far better off under the lov
illg Curt' KJi ditf'J' (wdd uc t«/6(U <Af
with me.’
‘True,’ said Monroe, twisting the quill
round and round his fingers. ‘Who’s
that knocking ? Letters, ch ? Don’t mind
me, open your correspondence I’
May complied, tearing open the envel
opes and glancing carelessly over their
contents, until he came to the last one!
As his eyes fell on it he uttered an excla
mation of astonishment
‘What a beauty I’ ejaculated Monroe,
who, with the privileged impertinence of
long«tita..Vie-be<l friendship, caught up the
letter as it fell from Raymond's hands.—
‘Well, I’d just like to know what this
means, you sly scamp !’
‘Upon my word—upon my honor,Char
ley,’ ejaculated the astonished young man,
‘I never saw the face before! I cannot
imagine who she is, or how the picture
came heve!’
‘No message with it ?'
‘Not a word ! but the direction is cer
tainly plain enough—Captain Raymond
May, Philadelphia.'
‘Well, I can only recommend to you to
wait patiently for time to solve the ques
tion,' said Monroe, rising. ‘Come, do look
up for a moment from the entrancing pho
tograph, and give a fellow a little atten
tion—I want to know if you arc going to
Mrs. Lcaford's Saturday night ?'
‘Yes—no—I don’t know. I have not
made up my mind.’
‘All right; I’ll call for you at nine to a
moment’
Away went Monroe, leaving Raymond
May still bending over the fair counte-.
nance which seemed to enchant him like
a dream.
The exotics in Mrs. Leaford’s bay win
dows were in full blossom and brightness;
the tire, which one or two days cold had
rendered far from disagreeable, even in
April, glowed cheerfully in the grate, and
half a dozen young guests, matronized by
their pretty hostess and Mrs. Walter from
New Y’ork, were busy, some reading,
some chatting, and some engaged in the
very graceful mysteries of embroidery and
crochet.
‘By the way, where is Virginia?’ asked
Mrs. Leaford, glancing around.
‘She w ill be down presently,’ answered
her sister ; 'she took her letters up stairs
to read.’
That very instant Miss Lynne’s light
touch fell on the door knob, and she came
into the room looking prettier than ever,
in a white cashmere morning wrapper, re
lieved by the flutter of blue ribbons.
‘Lizzie.’ she said, coming to her sister’s
side, ‘1 have had the strangest adventure
this morning.’
‘What do you mean?’ inquired Mrs.
Walter.
‘As 1 opened one of my letters,' she
said, laughing in a half pleased, half puz
zled manner, ‘out fell a photograph! Of
course 1 supposed it was one of those I
had taken of my sell just before I left New
York.’
‘Well,’ ejaculated the eager chorus of
listeners, ‘and it was— ’
‘The prettiest baby you ever saw !' ex
claimed Virginia, holding up the pictured
representation of our old acquaintance,
'baby Harry,’ and her auditors pounced
ecstatically upon it, uttering various very
leimniiie adjectives of delight and admi
ration.
Saturday night arrived most propitious
ly, with a keen wind, brilliant starlight;
and Mrs. Lcaford's spacious rooms were
soon filled. Mr. Mouroe and Captain May
were among the later arrivals, and made
their way toward Mrs. Leaford art skillfully
as they could through the mass of crino
line which swayed around.
‘Here he is, Mrs. Leaford!’ exclaimed
Monroe, as at length he reached the lady
sought for. ‘I’ve brought him according
to contract; hut, do you believe, the lazy
fellow hud coiled up on a sofa for an eve
ning over his books! If it hadn't been
for my indefatigable efforts, you wouldn't
have seen him here to-night.'
‘I'm sure I’m very much obliged to
you,' said Mrs. Lealord, laughing, 'Cap
tain May; the only amends you can make
for such an outrageous breach of discip
line, is to be just as agreeable as you can
to my fair guests to-night. Miss Lynne,
let me present Captain May.’
As the young officer bowed low over
the extended hand ot the New York beau
ty, be was half uncertain whether he was
broad awake or wandering through the
mazes of a dream. There, before him,
stood the lovely reality of that lovely pho
tograph, her jetty hair wreathed with
pearls, and her d;.rk beauty contrasted
with a dress of the softest pink, with moss
roses at her belt.
If he had been in love before, his case
was hopeless now—desperate, irremedia
ble!
How quickly the next two weeks flew
by ! It was not until the night before he
sailed that Captain Raymond May must
ered up courage to confess to Miss Lytrtie
that her similitude was in his possession
—for, of course, that would necessarily
involve the surrender of precious proper
ty. But Jie felt that he must at length
tell her the truth ; and so, with sinking
heart, he marched up the broad marble
steps of Mrs. Leaford’s mansion, and was
shown into a pretty little room opening
out of a fragrant conservatory. As he
awaited Miss Lynne’s appearance,he nerv
ously turned over the pages of the gilded
volumes that lay on the table. One was
a photographic album, and he glanced me
chanically at the various faces there con
tained, without really seeing them, until
suddenly the rosy ftce of his own little
Harry—Minnie’s child—smiled up in his
own !
‘Why, is it possible? I must be mis
taken.’
But a second glance convinced him that
he was not mistaken. It was Harry May,
and nobody elso’s baby.
Suddenly a light footstep disturbed his
reverie.
‘Miss Lynne,’ he said earnestly, as soon
as the customary greetings of the day
were exchnngwtL ‘1 am in a state of very
great Will you solve the
enigma for me ?’
‘ Certainly—if I can,’ said Virginia,
blushing, and with a soft, uncertain tre
mor at her heart
‘How did this picture obtain a place in
your album ?’
The color subsided into ordinary pallor,
as Virginia replied:
‘In rather a romantic manner, Captain
May. It was sent to me, with no accom
pany mg message, and I havn’t the least
/-/ATptence it came.’
‘Ah ! that furnishes a clue to the whole
mystery,’ said Captain May, placing upon
the tabie the picture which had lain next
to his heart for the last few days, and re
lating briefly how it had fallen into his
possession. ‘By some mistake at the pho
tographer’s, my little Harry’s picture has
been sent to you, and your likeness to me.
1 am a widower, Miss Lynne, with one
child, as I suppose you have been in
formed.’
‘No,’ said Virginia, coloring, ‘I was not
aware of it, but-j’
He looked earnestly into her face, whore
the tell tale crimson was already begin
ning to glow, and the soft eyes to become
shadowed with timid, downcast lashes; he
looked and saw something that encouraged
him to ask another question.
‘Miss Lynne—Virginia—may I keep
the picture?’
And she did not say ‘No.’
When Captain May sailed the next day,
it was with ‘something to look forward to
Oh his return.’
‘My dearest Virginia,’ exclaimed her
sister, ‘what have you been doing? Are
you not aware that Captain May is a wid
ower ?’
‘Yes,’ said Virginia, valiantly; ‘but that
don’t make any difference; 1 love him and
that’s enough 1’
‘And don't you know that he has a
baby V’
‘Well—and I love the baby, too, be
cause it is Raymond’s 1’
‘Oh !’ said Mrs. Walter, archly, ‘so you
have overcome your horror of ‘second
hand babies.’ Well, my dear, only take
care that he don’t keep quoting Mrs. May
Number One.'
‘I have no fear,’ said Virginia, quietly.
And time proved the correctness of her
premises, for we don’t know any happier
young wife than Mrs. May Number Two;
and it is hard to say which she loves best,
her husband or ‘Baby Harry.’
Speech or the llos. Wm. B. Reed. —A
short while ago the Hon. Win. B. Reed,
formerly U. S. Minister to China, and one
of the leaders of the old Whig party,
made a speech in Philadelphia, at the
Democratic headquarters. According to
report, it was decidedly anti-war and in
favor of peace, 'flic following is an ex
tract from his brilliant, patriotic and un
answerable speech :
“The accursed doctrine of State Rights”
—think of these words, citizens of this
sovereign State. Think of the curse that,
from his little Mount Ebnl in Congress,
this creature (Mr Olin, of New York,) of
a moment dares to hurl at rights which
the constitution guarantees, and which
Pennsylvania had anil enjoyed and fought
for, before the constitution even existed.
Think of a representative from New Y’ork
—a State which came into the Union too
late to vote for George Washington, curs
ing the lights of Virginia, where Wash
ington was born, and where, in the only
bolder spot which civil war has not deso
lated, his ashes repose ; where John Mar
shall lived and died, wiio, in every consti
tutional opinion he ever gave, recognized
and respected these “ accursed rights,"
and expressly the “ sovereignty” of the
States ; the land of Jetferson, and Madi
son, and Monroe, and Henry, and John
Taylor, of Caroline—men destined to live
in story when the fierce fanatics of this
day of sorrow shall be forgotten, and
whose names will survive, either on the
temple or its ruins, when the storm and
the earthquake shall pass by.
Think, citizens of Pennsylvania, of this
irreverent lailer, this lit representative of
a parly of deduction, from his place of
fancied security, daring to lling his male
dictions at the Keystone of the broken
arch, hanging, as it does, doubllully over
the ruin and gravitating below. Think,
Pennsylvanians, lor such you were before
the Union had an existence, and such you
will proudly be, if, in the Providence of
God, the Union has gone from us, of those
rights being cursed, which your ancestors
thought they gave you. Think of all this;
and then 1 ask you, in the name of the
Constitutional Democracy of Pennsylva
nia, to stand shoulder to shoulder in the
new conflict now impending tor the con
stitution and the rights, the inalienable,
indestructible State rights, that guard our
firesides and homes. Maintain these sa
cred local rights as you would the domes
tic purity of your family.. Let them be
broken down, and you will sink with all
your nationality. If there are no water
tight compartments, or they be destroyed,
depend oil it the liag won’t save the ship
from foundering.
Be Caitiuis Before Children’. —A
gentleman was in the habit of culling at a
neighbor’s house, ami the lady had always
expressed much pleasure in seeing him.
One day, just after she had remarked to
him her happiness from his visit, the little
boy entered the room. The gentleman
took him on his knee, and asked :
‘Are you glad me, George ?’
‘No, sir,’ replied the boy.
‘Why not, my little man ?’
‘Because mother don’t want you to
come,’ said George.
liere the mother looked daggers at her
little son, and her face became crimson,
but he saw nothing.
‘Indeed, how do you know that ?’
‘Because she said yesterday she wished
that old bore would not call again 1’
The old gentleman’s hat was soon in
requisition, and he left with the pleasing:
impression that ‘truth is mighty and will
prevail.’
» ■ —
Sarcastic. —The sycophants who are
constantly praising the Administration,
are thus quietly rebuked by a cotempo
rary : “ Mrs. President Lincoln slept in
a tent when she visited Hooker’s camp.
A letter writer, dilating upon the fact,
and that she attacked the rations vigor
ously the next morning, says the circum
stance will have an excellent effect upon
the soldiers."
The most remarkable case of indecision
we ever heard of, was that of a man who
sat up ail night, because he could not dc- ■
cide w fitch to take off first, ilia cCtnf Lt Bis
boots.
‘Bill, you young scamp, if you had
your due, you’d get a good whipping.’ T
know it, daddy, but bills are not always
paid when they arc due.’
[From the Mllweekee Weekly Newt.]
American Idea*, and Where they
Came From*
Mr. Editoi; :—These are inquiring
times. Men are searching, upon all hands,
for solutions to many questions that were
once supposed settled. A great many
hoary old shams that hare imposed on
them are getting pitched into the gutter.
A great many things they had supposed
'true are turning out false. The thing
must go on. I design doing my small
share then to help.
The Americans hare a certain distinct
type of national character. We have
certainly clearly defined national ideas.
Where if> its gi.‘« them f Last Decem
ber, on “ Forefather’s day," a thousand
voices answered, “ We got them all
from Plymouth Rock. They all came
over in the Mayflower. A noble band of
pilgrims fleeing from persecution in
wicked old Europe came over to the des
ert new world, and established here free
dom to worship trod, free schools, free
presses, universal suffrage, and every no
ble thing there is in America.”
That was the answer at all the “ pil
grim dinners” in December. It is also
the answer in half our school readers,
and so-called school histories. The inno
cent children of all Americans are taught
that they, poor little things, are descend
ed from our forefathers!’ of the May
flower ; that all the people of this broad
continent came from the loins of the Rev.
Mr. Robinson and his congregation ; that
the gentlemen in steeple-crowned hats,
in short, made America.
Let us look at it In the first place
then, the Puritan emigration was but a
drop in the bucket It formed scarcely
the hundredth part of the original emi
gration. It was not the first emigration
either. Flourishing colonies were plant
ed years before in various parts of the
country. There were English in Vir
ginia; Sweedes and Finns coming into
New Jersey ; Dutch into New York ;
French Uuguenots into Carolina. As
near as I can make out, the proportion of
people now in the United States of En
glish descent is about six millions; of
these about two millions arc of Puritan
descent.
Now, what did the Puritans come to
America for? Mrs. Ilemans says to es
tablish “ Freedom to worship Clod.”
Mr. Iteecher, et id omne genus, says to
establish this and escape persecution.
What does history say? They came
simply to better their condition. They
emigrated from precisely the motive that
caused emigration then, and causes it
now, and ever will cause it—the prospect
of larger material benefits. They emi
grated from Holland, not from England.
They certainly were not persecuted in
Holland. I deny that they were perse
cuted in England. At all events, they
were not troubled on account of their
religion in Holland. Europe did not
drive them out They were doing well
among the Dutch. Hut mark the Puri
tans! “ It grieved their hearts that the
Dutch would not reform their church ac
cording to the pure work of God." They
left Holland because they could not com
pel the Dutch to turn Puritans. That is
their own work. Well, in 1520, being
then in Leyden, and being satisfied they
could not turn Dutchmen into Puritans,
they concluded to leave, and asked James
I. for a grant of (and, James, an Epi. o
pal king, gave them a grant, the exclu
sive right to the soil, to the fisheries, and
to the trade. That certainly is not per
secution,
They came for the land, the fisheries,
and the trade, and we find as a specimen
of Puritan gratitude, that the first row
tliey got into was a tight with their old
hosts, the Dutch, because they trespassed
upon these same fisheries.
Now what did they bring, and what
did they leave? Separation of Church
and State? Edward Everett, a very fine
talker, says yes. Judge Story, a man of
more brains and less fine writing, says :
“The fundamental error of our ances
tors, ah error which began with their set
tlement of this colony, (Mass.) was a doc
trine which has been happily exploded, l
mean the necessity of a utdon of Church
and State. To this they clung as to their
ark of safety.” In fact tithes were abol
ished finally in Massachusetts in 1854.
Toleration is an American idea. Did
they leave us that? Did they bring that
“ Freedom to wo ship God?” In 1659
they cut off the cars of three Quakers.
1659 they hung a dozen or so and would
not allow their friends to bury them.
1660 they “suspended” a few more, a
poor old woman who had to be carried to
the gallows, among the rest. Even in
1739 they “drummed” Mr. Finlay, a
distinguished Presbyterian divine, out of
the colony. They hanged Roman Catho
lics. They cut the tongues out of the
Quakers. They whipped Presbyterians.
They fined a man for using the Episcopal
prayer book. All this is matter of bis
tory.
But the reply is, “ This was the fruit
of the times.” Of course then the argu
ment is given up. They were really no
better than the wicked, these pious Pu
ritans. But it was not the fault of the
times. They were behind the times,
They persecuted after all tho world had
ceased to persecute. They were hanging
and slitting tongues for fifty years against
the world’s remonstrances. The last
death for religion in Old England took
place in 1612, before the landing on Ply
mouth Rock. In 1660, forty-eight years
after, the Puritans were hanging Quakers
in New England. Before they left Eu
rope death for religion had ceased. Eu
rope bad given up fire and faggot, and
these delightful Puritans came hither,
and revived and stuck to the cast-off bar
barities of the Old World. In 1720, in
Massachusetts, they enacted a law of
death against a Roman Catholic. In
1774 they sent a formal protest against the
“Quebec act,” by which the British Par
liament tolerated that religion in Canada.
In England tf a man absented himself
from public worship he. was fined one
shilling, in Massachusetts he was fined
five, and in Plymouth, where the “Rock”
is, he was fined ten. For nonconformity
to established Congregationalism the fine
was forty shillings a month," and if the
men were “ incorrigible" the kw said
death.,, Tfca EjigJamT remon
strated. E?en Puritans in England re
monstrated. Vane remonstrated, Sals
tonstall remonstrated, “ These rigid ways
have laid you low in the hearts of the
faithful in England.” Mark the answer
—thoroughly Puritan—“ God forbid our
love for truth should grow so cold that
we should tolerate such errors.” “ In
— — — -it ”
• 0 • * *... - v • -"' -fc, *
Story, '* our ancestors persevered against
every remonstrance at home and abroad.”
Their own words arc, “ Toleration is a
sin in rulers.” The facts of history are
that the Puritans of New England perse
cuted when the world was crying out in
horror. That thaar defended their bitter
bigotry and narrow bloodthirsty intoler
ance when the whole civilized world
bad dropped persecution for opinion's
sake in horror Cotton Mather wrote
the last words that were ever written in
the English tongue in defence
persecution. The last blood shed by
Saxon hands for religion’s sake they shed
one hundred years after Old England had
dropped that devil’s work forever. And
the only blood ever shed on this conti
nent for religion’s sake was shed in Ply
mouth and Massachusetts colonies. It is
time that fact was distinctly known.
The Roman Catholics in Maryland, the
Episcopalians in Virginia, the Quakers in
Pennsylvania, the Dutch in New York,
did establish and practice “ liberty of
conscience,” but never the Puritans in
New England. They bitterest fault they
ever found with Charles II., was that he
interfered, by royal pardon, to save from
the stake some Anabaptists, whom the
Puritans were bound to burn. That, in
their eyes, was the crime of his life.
They tolerate 1 Why, Story says that in
1677 five-sixths of all the inhabitants of
Massachusetts were disfranchised, not to
be tried as freemen, or have freemen’s
rights, because the law of that colony re
quired every voter to be a Congregation
alist 1
I have examined historically those two
points, and there is the result. To the
Puritans we do not owe our toleration,
nor our separation of Church or State.
I am not aware that we owe them any of
our Anfcrican ideas. The only presses
gagged on this continent Puritans gag
god. The most restricted suffrage exer
cised was in Puriten Massachusetts. The
narrowest and most illiberal repression of
opinion has been there. They, and only
they, came to this country with ideap,
which our American life has swept ut
terly away. The notions every Ameri
can condemns, the practices every Amer
ican instinctively abhors, are nil Puritan
practices, and came over in the May
flower.
Pressure of the Atmosphere.
Among the ancient philosophers a hy
pothesis prevailed that “nature abhorred
a vacuum." They were led to this con
clusion by observing that no vacuum ex
isted in the world. They found that
when a tube was placed with one end in
the water and I he mouth applied to it at
the other end, the water would rise in the
tube by what is railed “ suction"—a term
still in use, but now better understood.—
From this it was understood that nature
abhorred a vacuum.
This illusion was dispelled by the erec
tion of a pump at Florence, by which it
was found impossible to raise the water
to the top of the pipe. Astonishment
was excited by the fact, and Galileo being
then alive, he was consulted as to the
cause. Upon measuring the hight of the
tube it was found to he thirty four feet,
but he could not explain the phenomenon.
Torricelli, his illustrious pupil, unravelled
the mystery. Up till that period it was
supposed that the air possessed no weight.
Torricelli came to the conclusion that it
did possess weight, and he inferred that
as a column of water had been raised by
suction in a tube to the hight of thirtv
three feet, if this were due to the weight
and pressure of the atmosphere, it could
in like manner support a shorter column
of a heavier (laid than water. As mercu
ry was known to he nearly fourteen times
heavier than water, he said the atmos
phere should support a column of mercu
ry about two and a-half feet in hight. Iu
order to test this hypothesis, he took a
glass tube about three feet in length, and
closed it at one end and filled it with
mercury. lie then closed its open end
with his finger, and set it in a basin of
mercury. On withdrawing his finger the
mercury fell six inches in the tube, leav
ing a column of thirty inches standing
above the level of the basin. The upper
six inches in the tube formed a perfect
vacuum, which, in honor of the inventor,
lias been called the “Torricclian vacuum.”
The cause of the suspension of the mercu
ry in the tube was demonstrated still
more clearly by carrying the apparatus to
the top of a lofty tower, when the mercu
ry fell two inches. Thus was disproved
the old hypothesis, "Nature abhors a,
vacuum,” and thus the barometer was
discovered. No such principle as “suc
tion” exists; it is the pressure of the at
mosphere, not “ suction,” that causes the
water to rise in the inlet tube of a pump.
Pascal tirst proposed and used the barom
eter to estimate the hight of mountains,
instead of by direct measurement, as bad
been the method forme! ly. • This instru
ment is now exclusively employed for
such purposes.
The velocity of gases and liquids (low
ing into a vacuum is in proportion to their
pressure and density, and the pressure of
water and air is according to the hight of
the column. Thus a column of water
thirty-three feet in hight exercises a
pressure of fifteen pounds on the square
inch, which is exactly the pressure exer
cised by a column of air extending to the
hight of the atmosphere. The atmosphere
inereases in rarity as we ascend, because
air is compressible ; but water is consid
ered incompressible, and on the top of
the highest mountain it is as dense as at
the level of the sea. Air Hows into a vac
uum at the velocity of one thousand three
hundred and forty feet per second; water
from a height of thirty-threo feet—the
same pressure as the atmosphere—flows
into a vacuum at the velocity of about
forty-six feet per second.
From the Ran Francisco Irish Nationalist.
Secret Societies*
Secret armed societies arc organizing
throughout the State, and a general sys
tem of warlike preparation going on for
the ostensible purpose of protecting the
Union. Thus, in this instance, as in ma
ny others, the most unworthy and unholy
aims arc sought to be accomplished under
the garb of a ju6t cause, or the shadow of
a noble name. Such, we have been in
formed, is the case.
Docs any citizen with a particle of san
ity remaining within him, suppose, for an
I NUMBER 22.
instant, that there is the least ntcwlty,
either present or for .thfM jeent
ifornia loyal to the core? Who are the
disaffected, and where are they f To our
minds, nowhere. No one here desires
commotion. Here people of Southern or
igin arc in small minority, and could bavo
nothing to gain and everything to lose by
disturbing the peace and harmony that
providentially has reigned supreme in our
midst since the commencement of our na
tional difficulties. The arming of bodies
of men,*/// 1 the meeting of secret eociadua,
clubs and cabals, are fruitful sources of
strife; and frceo hidden corners, dark
lantern gatherings, through secret grips,
signs and pass-words, men accept the be
lief that there is an outside clement that
must be kept down, cut down, if you
please; for the mere fact of the organiza
tion of masses of men, appointed with
arms and leaders, with signs and pass
words, will grow up and engender the
conviction as it were that there is an ene
my to encounter, and failing to meet it,
the necessities of such organizations, tba
need for their keeping up must be sup
plied by making difficulties, by creating
strife, by aggressive acts upon the elected
enemy, and thus we shall have stiife,
commotion, persecution, bloodshed, and
in the end, for the present happy peace
and security, civil strife, and the destruc
tion of the inestimable blessings now so
universally enjoyed throughout our whole
State.
We call upon our countrymen— upon
all Irishmen —to set their faces against
these dangerous secret societies, to avoid
them and their authors and aiders and
abetters, as they would the open spoiler
of peace and of our rights as citizens and
men. Whenever there shall appear toba
danger, go all to the constituted organisa
tions, enroll yourselves iu the forces of
the State, which are open and above
board; offer your services in the clear
light of day, and ofTer them to the Execu
tive of the State, to the regularly ap
pointed and recognized officers of the
Commonwealth, and then you cannot fait
to discharge your duties. Do as your
countrymen have ever done, and have in
our present troubles so nobly and glo
riously done all over the country, support
the laws, uphold the Government, and da*
fend the Constitution of the State and of
the United States. To do this no secrecy
is needed, no midnight gatherings neces
sary, no conclaves iu gloomy alleyways
or hidden chambers requisite, in the
meantime, pursue the course that has al
ways marked you as a people. Remain
quiet, orderly, peaceable, and ever faith
ful to the land of your adoption ; do all
this, and the effect of your example will
do more good than any other course, and
tend to check the dangers to be appre
hended from secret organizations.
Making Something out of the Old
Woman at Last." —“ I had just about
one of the laziest and most or'uary wires
a poor feller ever got stuck on. She
wasn’t wuth shucks. She would work
till she shivered, and cut till she sweated.
Howsoever, the poor critter’s gone under
now, and 1 don’t know ns I oughter say
anything agin her. Well, about twenty
years ago, her and me was a trarelin’ in
a train out West, i was dead broke—
hadn’t ary red, and was dreffully down in
the mouth. Just as I was tryin’ to fix on
some method to raise tlnj wind, suddenly
the train was Imu g tip all standin’ and
the splinters was Ilyin’ in every direction.
In two tninits passengers was a lay in’
around loose, groanin’ and hollerin’ for
help, and there was an orful time gene
rally. As luck would have it, neitherme
nor the old woman was hurt a mite, but
as I looked at her, the idee suddenly oc
curred to me that there was a chance to
make something blf of her. So says I,
‘Deb, you’ve never bin no 'count to me,
and I think it's time yer was. I’ve got •
chance to make somethin’ out o’ yer now,
and 1’tu a groin’ to do it, and I hope yer
won’t make no fuss about it, hut stan up
to the rack and take yer fodder tike a
woman. Here goes!’ and as I spoke, I
fetched her an old socket plum on the
nose, and squashed it as tlat as if a cart
wheel had run over it. ‘Now,’ says L
‘howl, Deb. But remembor, yer 'cerved
damages from a Ilyin’ splinter, and net
from my fist!’ Siic tuk my advice, aad
that lick fetched us $1000 damages.’’
“ But,” he said, heaving a deep-drawn
sigh, “ what was the use, after all ? Tbs
money’s all gone now, and I’m as dry as
ever. Who’s a goin’ to licker?"
Wendell l’im.ur.s <>s Toobsaini
L’Ol't cun in:. — As Wendell Phillips with
his radical policy has attempted to obtain
the entire control of the Government, it is
well we should occasionally notice the
man—otherw iso tve should not add to bis
infamous notoriety, by any suggestions in
these columns. lie has lately delivered
at the Cooper Intitule, New York, and
at the Academy of Music, Brooklyn, an
address on the St. Domingo negro, whose
name heads this article. It is sufficient
to designate the character of the addfess,
and of the man, who attempts to control
this great nation, to say that he proves
very satisfactorily, that the negro is su
perior to the whiteman. lie justifies all
lire horrors and brutalities of the insur
rection at St. Domingo. lie estimate!
this black savage us a greater statesman
than cither Cromwell or Napoleon. And
finally he places him far above our illus
trious Washington. Hero is the lan
guage : “ 1 would call him Washington,
but the Virginian InM slaves. This man
risked his empire, rather than permit the
slave trade, filly years lienee when im
partial history gets written, some Plu
tarch of later day*r .w ill put Phocion for
tiie Greek, and Brutus fur the Roman,
Hampden for Kngland, Fayette for
France, choose Washington as the bright
(lower of our earlier civilization, and Fi»
niont the ripe fruit of our noonday, (thun
ders of applause) then dipping bis pencil
in sunlight, will write in the clear blue
above them ail, the name of the negro
statesman, soldier and martyr Tousaaint
L’Ouverture." (Long continued ap
plause.)
“ Pat, where’s the whisky I gave JOS
to clean the windows-with *‘ Oeb, air,
I just drank it, and T thought if I breathed
on the glass It would te all the Banal* ,•
‘Mv wife,’ said a wag the other day,'
‘came near calling me honey hut night’
‘Indeed, how was that V ‘Wby, abe call
ed me old beeswax.’