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THE PLACER HERALD. f. PUBLISHED EVERT SATURDAY, AT THE OFFICE, Main Street, Auburn, Cal., (at the old stand,) by TABB MITCHELL. TERMS; ' Subscriptions invariably in advance. For one year, $15,00; six months $4,00; three months $2,50; one month $1,00; single copies, twenty live cents. POR ADVERTISING: V One square of ten lines, or more than five, first insertion $5,00; each subsequent insertion, $1,50. For half a square of five links, or less, $2,00; each lubsequent insertion SI,OO. JOB PRINTING. 1 Large additions have recently been made to the Job Office, and work of all descriptions will be executed in a superior manner. GENERAL ADVERTISING AGENCY NO. 97 MERCHANT STREET, SAN FRANCISCO. Advertisements and Subscriptions RECEIVED BV THOMAS BOYCE, Agent, Ko. 97 Merchant street, and Room No. 9, up stairs, Iron Building, northeast corner of Montgom ery and Washington streets, for the “PLACER HERALD, •’ AUBURN; “Democratic State Journal,’’ Sacramento; “Daily Argus,” Stockton; “Sierra Citizen,” Downicville; “Miners’ Advocate,” Diamond Springs; “Mountain Messenger,” Gibsonville; “Contra Costa,” Oakland; “Tribune,” San Jos6; “Democratic Standard.” Portland, O T. I. u. WICKES, M. I). J. B. MOORE H. H. WICKES & CO., KEEPS constantly on hand at the Au burn Drug Store, in Holmes' Brick Block, an extensive supply of Drugs, Med icines, Pure Liquors, Paints. Oils, Brushes, Glass and Paney Articles for the toilet, which they offer for sale upon the most reasonable terms. Auburn, Sept. 15, 1855.—ray. K, E. MILLS, C. J. UILLYER, District Attorney, lowa Hill. Auburn. MILLS & HILLYER, Attorneys and Counselors at Law, IMUTNEKS IX CIVIL BUSINESS ONLY. OFFICES: A T A UD URN AND 10 WA HILL. in'2s'ss my _ H. FITZSIMMONS, Attorney and Counselor at Law, —OFFICE— IN HOLMES BRICK BUILDING, UP STAIRS, AUBURN, CAL. je2my LANSING STOUT, Attorney and Counselor at Law, BEALS' BAR, PLACER COUNTY, CALIFORNIA. j.vS my PHILIP W. THOMAS^ Attorney and Counselor at Law, AUBURN, CAL. at the Court House. nlmy JAMES ANDERSON, Attorney and Counselor at Law, AUBURN, CAL. in the rear of Court House."(fe In 30 ray B. F. MYRES, Attorney and Counselor at Law, AUBURN, CAL. OFFICE—Next door to the “Temple. "8S: oct27 my ROBERT FISHER, House Carpenter and Joiner, IS PREPARED to erect buildings on short no tice. He constantly has on hand a large as sortment of SLUICE LUMBER, etc. Undertaking. All orders as Undertaker, promptly at nded to. R- J• FISHER. [n44.v3] W. F. NORCROSS, WATCH MAKER, AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER, Sign of the Mammoth Watch, MAIN STREET, AUBURN, CALIFORNIA. sept. 8 my ALFRED ROBBINS, Provision and Grocery Dealer, IYe.st Side, Sacramento Street, AUBURN, CAL., (Nearly opposite the Methodist Church,) [AS always on hand a full assortment of ar . tides in bis line of trade at reasonable rates. p - CALL AND SEE. Auburn, Sept. 15, ’55 my HENRY T. HOLMES, DEALER IN iroceries, Provisions, Hardware, and Crockery, Fire-Proof Brick Store. Main Street, AUBURN, CAL. Sept. 15, ’55 my JAMES NOLAN, Fashionable Tailor, AUBURN , CALIFORNIA, lain Street, next door to Norcross’Jewelry Store. Auburn, Sept. 16, 1855. m.. JAMES WALSH. HARNESS AND SHOE SHOP. On Main Street, Auburn, ( Middle Row,) OPPOSITE to Gordon’s Store. Making jg " Boots and Shoes, Harness, 4c., and re- U airing promptly attended to. Auburn, September 15, 1855. my. ~~ BLANKS. Justices’ Blanks, Deeds, Ac., neatly printed at Ke Herald effler THE PLACER HERALD. From the Ladies’ Christian Annual. Mind. The flowers of spring may droop and die, The summer’s glories wane, The autumn leaf drift serely by, And chilly winter reign; The earth itself may pass away, Its requiem ringing high, From star to star a solemn dirge, But mind shall never die. The sun in darkness may go out, The moon her radiance veil. And one by one the stars of night Ring out their funeral wail; But nature’s closing eye shall see, With added radiance given, The mighty intellects of earth, Serenely throned in Heaven. Unconquored long, grim Death at last His scepter shall lay down, And hoary Time, with tottering steps, Yield up his raylcss crown; But deathless mind, uncbilled by change Or dim decay shall be, With added power and widening range, Through all eternity. Independence. jY. Y. At five o’clock on Thanksgiving morning, Deacon Wilson arose as was his wont. No holiday made any change in his hours. Yet now he no longer sprang from his hed with the alacrity which changed duty into plea sure; he rose because imperious necessity commanded it. There were the cattle to be fed and watered, and the poultry to receive the same attention, and there was, moreover, a fire to bo made in the huge old kitchen fire-place; for the deacon had now no ser vant or helper, and in the gray winter of his life, the whole burthen of managing his place had fallen on his shoulders. Fortunately they were broad and strong —fortunately his constitution was good, his spirits elastic and his piety sincere, for his burthens and trials were indeed weighty. He had been com paratively rich—-he was now in embarrassed circumstances. He had looked forward to the time when a son should relieve him of the most laborious of his toils, while a daughter performed the same kind office for his wife. Both had been disappointed— and now the old couple were the solitary tenants of that lone New England farm house. The deacon went mechanically about his morning labors; he drove the cattle to the water tank; he supplied them with fresh fod der, and after seeing that they were comfort able, returned to the old kitchen. By this time the good wife had prepared a breakfast, and a genial fire of walnut was diffusing its heat through the apartment. The old couple sat down to breakfast, af ter a blessing by the farmer, but the meal passed in silence. It was followed by fervent prayer and the reading of a portion of the Scripture. After this they adjourned to the sitting room, where a good fire was burning, and where the old dame assumed her knit ting, one of those incomprehensible pieces of female industry which seem to have nei ther beginning nor end. “Well,” said she, with a sigh, “this is Thanksgiving day. It doesn’t seem like old times at all. We used to have a house full of company, frolicksome young folks, and cheerful old people; and now we are alone, alone.” “Last Thanksgiving,” said the old man, “there was one with us, who seemed, to my old eyes, like an angel of light, with her fairy golden hair floating like a glory on her shoulders, and her little foot making music as she moved about the old house. But even then there was a hectic flush upon her cheek, like the red upon the maple leaf in autumn. When the January snows lay deep on the hills and in the hollows, we carried hretoher last home—but God’s will be done.” “You forget we have another child alive.” “No, I do not forget it,” said the old man, bitterly. “There is one living somewhere, who has brought disgrace upon our name, who has forgotten his parents and his God; who lias drunk deep of the cup of iniquity, and who has brought ruin and woe upon his name and family.” “Do not speak so harshly of poor Wil liam,” pleaded the mother. “Why should I not? Was he not insensi ble to kindness—steeled against affection? Did he not scatter my hard earnings to the wind? Is it not to him that I owe the pros pect of beggary and destitution? Remember the first of February. That is the last day of grace. If the money comes not then, and God knows whence it is to come, we are driven from beneath this roof-tree—a pair of houseless beggars. Who will care for us then?” “God will care for us,” said the aged wo man, raising her eyes reverently to heaven. The old man made no reply, for his utter ance was choked. At that moment the old clock that stood ticking in the corner, struck the hour of nine. The deacon rose. “It is time to harness up old Dobbin, said he, “for we have a long way to ride to meet ing, and the roads are in a bad condition.” Their preparations were soon made, and the old couple, poorly, but decently attired, sallied forth to their public devotions. The services ended, the deacon and his wife, as they issued from the porch, were kindly greeted by many old friends and neighbors, more than one of whom pressed them to come and partake of their Thanksgiving cheer. But the deacon shook his bead. “Many thanks, friends,” he said, “but ever since I have been a householder. I have AUBURN, PLACER COUNTY. CALIFORNIA, NOVEMBER 3, 1855. BY IDA FAIRFIELD. A Sketch from Life. BY FRANCIS DURIVAGE. kept my Thanksgiving at homo, and I shall continue to do so, as long as I have a house remaining over my head.” So they rode home together. While the deacon drove up to the barn to put up his horse, the old lady opened the back door, which was always on the latch, and entered the kitchen. As she did so, she started back. A stranger was seated by the kitchen fire, who rose on her entrance. lie was a tall, stalwart man, dressed in a rough suit, with a broad-leafed hat, his countenance em browned by exposure to the sun and wind, and his upper lip almost concealed by a heavy and luxuriant black mustache. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said, with some embarrassment. “Finding no one an swered my knocks, I took the liberty of walking in. I believe I owe you no apology, for 1 have officiated as turnspit, and saved your Thanksgiving turkey from burning.” “I am very much obliged to you, I’m sure.” answered the old lady, pulling off her mit tens. “But did you want to see me or the deacon?” “Both of you,” answered the stranger. “You have a son, I believe?” “Yes,” replied Mrs. Wilson, with hesita tion. and casting down her eyes. “1 have seen him lately.” “Where?” inquired the mother, with in creasing agitation. “In California.” “Was he doing well?" “Admirably. Mother! mother!” he added, impetuously throwing back bis hat, “don’t you know me—don’t you know your Wil liam?” He rushed into his mother’s arms, and was clasped to her beating heart, while the tears streamed freely from the eyes of both. After the first passionate greeting was over, the young man asked: “Where is sister Emmy?” “Gone!” answered the mother, as her tears flowed forth anew. William sank into a seat, and hiding his face in his hands, wept bitterly. The mother did not attempt to check him. She knew those tears were precious. “And my father?” asked the young man, when he regained his composure. “He is well. But you had better retire for a while. Go to your old room, my son, it is just as you left it, and wait till I sum mon you.” It was with a fluttering heart that the overjoyed mother went about the prepara tions for dinner, and when the table was nearly set, every dish in its place, and the turkey, smoking hot, waiting to be carved, she summoned the old man. lie made his appearance at once, and took his seat. — Glancing round the table, he said: “What is this, wife? you have set plates for three.” “I thought perhaps somebody might drop in unexpectedly.” “There is little danger—hope, I moan of that,” answered the deacon, sadly. At this juncture, Mrs. Wilson, with a mys terious expression, rang the little hand-bell, with which, in happier days, she was wont to summon her tardy children to their meals. It was answered by the appearance of the long-lost William. The deacon, who recognized him after a moment, gazed upon him with a stern eye, but with a quivering lip that betrayed the force of his ill suppressed emotions. “So you have come back at last?” he said. “Yes, father, but not as I loft you. Fath er —last Thanksgiving day I went into my lonely room, and there, kneeling down, ad dressed myself to Heaven, and solemnly ab jured the fatal cup which had brought ruin upon me, and woe upon this once happy family. From that day to this I have not touched a drop. Is my probation enough? Can you now welcome back your son and bless him?” “Bless him? Yes! yes! bless you, my dear boy!” said the old deacon, placing his trem bling hand on the dark locks of the pleader. “You are welcome, William, though you come only to witness the downfall of our house.” “Not so, father,” answered the young man joyously. “I have come back to save you — to atone for my prodigality, for all my errors. It was this hope that sustained me in the lone heart of the Sierra Nevada, when I was panting with thirst and dying of hunger. Thoughts of home, of you and mother, and of her who is now one of God’s angel’s, en abled me to conquer fortune. I have come back with store of gold—you shall not be a beggar in your old age: father, we shall keep the farm.” After this, it is unnecessary to add, that joy entered that old New England homestead. It was a chastened joy, for the shadows of the past yet mingled with the sunshine of the present, hut the felicity that attended the prodigal’s return was enough to compensate for many sorrows. Cockuoach Riddance.— The Scientific American says: “Common red wafers, scat tered about the haunts of cockroaches, will often drive away, if not destroy them.” These wafers, like candies, are colored red by oxide of lead, a most deadly poison, and so is the acetate of lead, or sugar of lead, as it is sometimes called, on visiting cards, which being sweetish, has been known to destroy young children to whom they were handed to be amused with. Prairie Farmer. Lime Water in Bread. —It has lately been found, says an exchange paper, that water saturated with lime produces in bread the same whiteness, softness and capacity of retaining moisture, as results from the use of alum; while the former removes all acidity from the dough, and supplies an ingredient needed in the structure of the bones, but which is deficient in the eerealia. The Tyranny of Opinion. What is the tyranny of opinion? In a land of freedom and religion, among a peo ple of intelligence and pretensions to en lightened conscience, it is a matter of some moment that we should hold to just ideas and adopt correct practices upon this subject. The opinions which a man entertains are of the utmost importance when we investigate I his title to be a man of honor. The senti ments of an individual are of the very high est consequence when his claims to he a ! gentleman are under consideration. And I the exterior manners of a man—his liabits | of life and business and mode of association , with his fellows—which are the developments | of his opinions and sentiments, are elements of character which cannot be too rigidly scrutinized when his rank as a virtuous and decent citizen is under advisement. The trickster of a lawyer is detestable because his outward conduct daguerreotypes the meanness of his soul. The charlatan of a physician is disgusting for the reason that his known habits paint the foolish nature of his mind. The knavish merchant is shunned because his manner of life indicates that he was born with all the elements of a thief, save the courage to steal. The dishonest politician, who plunders the State, is known for all of a robber save the spirit to take the risk of the professional bandit. We then see that opinions and sentiments make the individual man, while his position in the bus iness of life is not the result of character, hut of accident. Under favorable circum stances the chicanery of the lawyer, for in stance, would be the forgery of the culprit. The opinion, not of a single man, hut of so ciety, is of lasting and momentous import ance to every individual citizen. And that it should not he tyrannous, is as true as that tyranny, in all its forms, is hateful. A ty ranny of common opinion then is the most intolerable of all tyrannies, inasmuch as it gives laws to society, and tone, temper and conduct to individual men. We then again ask what is the tyranny of opinion? In one of its forms, and not the least important, is the coercion of the judgment of others to agree with our own; and if the imposition he resisted, to visit the delinquent with some ban of privation because he will not submit to coincide with our judgment. If a man will not succumb to adopt our ideas of the true mode in which Christianity should be developed and externally observed, and we proscribe him on that account, by denounc ing him as unworthy of public or private trust, wc tyrannize over his soul. If we re solve he shall not hold office fur that reason, though in all other respects honest, capable, and faithful to the Constitution, we degrade him from an equality with ourselves, and other of his fellow citizens. Why is a rob ber under the ban of society? Because opin ion has made him so. Ami opinion has, as a thermometer, marked the degrees of infamy in crimes, by the punishments society indicts upon the culprits whom it can convict of doing violence to its sentiments. Our Con stitution and laws, as those of all govern ments, have reserved the deprivation from holding offices of trust and honor, for crimes of the most venal character and the most in famous criminals. Is it not, then, an awful responsibility to adopt and practice the opin ion that those of our fellow men who enter tain certain sentiments in no wise criminal, and the custom of which defames no man’s character, robs no orphan or fatherless child, shall be put on a level with him who, sworn to duty, perjures bis soul, and robs the pub lic treasury of bis country? Is there no ty ranny in the practice of such an opinion? Suppose we, in common with the community, were to resolve that all Methodists, for exam ple, should thus be degraded from the privi lege of holding office, and so place them on an exact equality with the perjured robber of the state’s treasury, or the forger of its se curities, would there be no tyranny in the opinion, and would they suffer no punishment or degradation in consequence? Tyranny of opinion then, is the unjust exclusion of men from political and social position, on account of sentiments, the entertaining of which im pairs no other man’s life, fortune or charac ter. S. J. Republican. Massachusetts, The Democracy of Massachusetts are aroused, and determined to redeem thecharac ter of that State; and if ever a State needed a thorough purging, if ever a Slate needed to be redeemed from obliquy, that State is Massachusetts. The Legislature has adjourn ed, but its acts remain, and till these acts are repealed, till the fanatics who have de graded her, and who are now seeking her ruin are defeated and repudiated by the peo ple, will disgrace cover that State like a pall. We have no desire now to*repeat what has entailed this disgrace on tme of the most prosperous States of the Union. The history of Know-Nothingism in that State is well known; and already has that party fused with the Republicans, and this party, the embodi ment of all that is unprincipled and detesta ble, is seeking the same end—the ruin of the State. We notice a union movement of all those opposed to “fanatical laws;” and if, as wo have reason to believe, it seeks the re demption of the State from those into whose hands it npw is, most heartily do we wish it success. If the citizens of Massachusetts perceive her degradation—her humiliating condition —they will rise in their strength and show to the country that they yet revere the memory of their peerless Webster. The Republican movement, not in Massachusetts only, but in every State is the same, and has the same objects to secure, and any State that wquld not occupy the humiliating posi tion which Massachusetts fills, will consign the “Republicans” to that obliquy and obli vion from which there h> no resurrection. Foreign Emigration. Judge Murray, in his very able opinion rendered in the Leidsdortf estate case, de clares that “the policy of the Government of the United States has been to encourage the emigration of foreigners.” As an evidence of this he states that “a system of pre-emp tion has been adopted in all the Territories and new States, in which there is no discri mination between foreigners and native citi zens.” That this is the policy indicated by the authors of our government, no man at all conversant with the history of our federal legislation, or with the teachings of Washing ton and his associates, will for a moment deny. Indeed, when we recur to the writings of the Fathers of the Republic, we are forcibly impressed with the fact that the emigration of foreigners was the chief source upon which they depended forthe necessary means of sub duing and cultivating the rich and boundless plains and valleys, then comparatively un known, now supporting in wealth and luxury a population of millions of freemen. Even in the Declaration of Independence—that document fraught with more importance to the world than any State paper ever before penned —among the long catalogue of gov ernmental “injuries and usurpations” upon which the patriots of the Revolution depend ed for justification, in the eyes of the civilized world, for falling hack upon that dernier re sort of an oppressed and enslaved people, Revolution—even in this paper we find among the first, the one that the British King had thrown obstacles in the way of that living stream which was flowing to wards our shores from the kingdoms of the old world, and upon which they seemed so confidently to rely for the necessary supply of human muscle w ith which to compter the wild lands of America, to full her forests, cultivate her broad rallies and green hills, and rear her towns and cities. What says that matchless paper? Read:— “He has endeavored to prevent the popula tion of these States; for that purpose, ob structing the laws for naturalization of for eigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their emigration hither, and raising the con ditions of now appropriations of lands.” Thus spoke the men, who knew, unless they won success, that the loss of their heads would be the penalty. Thus spoke such men as Jefferson, Franklin, Lee, Carroll, Adams, Hancock, and their associates.— Were they not worthy of being American citizens? ay, even those of them who were born in other lands? But the Convention whoso language we have quoted, met a long time ago—in 177(3. Since then, in 1855, another convention of Americans assembled in the city of Philadel phia, ami promulgated to the world a new political faith. Let us see how the opinion of the convention of 1776 accords, in spirit, with the eleventh article of the platform adopted by the Convention of 1855. Here is article 11th; “Eligibility to office, both in the States and nation, should he restricted to persons horn within the jurisdiction, or on some part of the territory included within the existing bounds of the United States.” Now let the reader pause and calmly ask himself the question, How would this new and strange doctrine of Know-Nothingism have been received by the Americans assem bled in Philadelphia in 1776? Would they not have scouted it with indignation? thrust it beyond the precincts of the sacred hall in which they were gathered? Who can doubt that such would have been their course? No one. If so, then how could they, if now living, be co-workers with the Know-No things of the present day? If they could not, then would our Know-Nothing friends dare say they were not true Americans? If so then, they might place Washington in the same category, for he, in language both beautiful and forcible, used the following sentiment: “The bosom of America is open to receive not only the opulent and respectable stranger, but the oppressed and persecuted of ALL N A TIONS and ALL RELIGIONS, whom wo shall welcome to a participation in ALL OUR RIGHTS AND PRIVILEGES.” Thus it will he seen that the, signers of the Declaration of Independence, and Washing ton, entertained and declared sentiments di rectly at variance with those now deemed purely American by the Know-Nothing party. For one we are satisfied with the company in which we are placed by the opponents of the Democratic party. If Washington was unworthy to be called an American, then do we eschew the name. “If this be treason, make the most of it.” —Shasta Courier. Sidney Smith’s description of himself in eighteen hundred and forty-four: I am seventy-four years of age, and being Canon of St. Paul’s in London, and a rector of a parish in the country, my time is divided equally between town and country. I am living among the best society in the metropo lis, and at ease in my circumstances; in tole rable health, a mild whig, a tolerating church man, and much given to (alkingj laughing and npisp. I dine with the rich in Lpndon, and physio the poor in the country —passing from the sauces of Dives to the sores of Lazarus. I am, upon the whole, a happy man; have found the world an entertaining world, and am thankful to Providence for the part allotted to me in it. Man, always prosperous, would be giddy, and insolvent, always afflicted—would bo sullen or despondent. Hopes and fears, joy and sorrow, are therefore, so blended in his life, as both to give room for worldly pur suits, and to recall tbe admonitions of con science. A New Musical Invention. It is said that an enterprising Yankee genius, Mr. J. C. Stoddard of Worcester, has succeeded in harnessing steam to a musical instrument. An exchange paper gives the following description of his invention: “The instrument is of simple construction, and when once thoroughly put together, will seldom if ever get out of repair. It consists of a horizontal steam-chest or cylinder, some six feet in length, and from four to six feet in diameter, which is fed by steam from the large boiler in the establishment where it ia located. Upon the top of this cylinder is g series of valve-chambers, placed at equal dis tances from each other, into which the steam is admitted without obstruction. Each valvo chamber contains a double metallic valve*, with no packing, yet it tits so closely upon its seat as to allow no steam to escape. To each of these valves is connected a very small piston-rod or stem, which passes through the chamber, and is operated upon by machinery without. Were it not for this stem, the valve would be simply a double balance valve, and would remain stationary wherever plac ed, the pressure of steam being equal on all sides; but a part of one end of the valve, being carried outside of the chamber gives it the self-closing power, which is the nicest part of the whole invention and perhaps the best patentable feature. With a slight pressure against these rods, the valve is opened; and when the pressure is removed, it closes as quick as steam can act, which is not much behind electricity. Directly over each one of these valves ]» placed a common alarm whistle, constructed similar to those used upon locomotives, ex cept that it admits of being raised or lower ed, to Hatten or sharpen the tone. These, whistles are made of different sizes, so as to produce the desired tone corresponding with each note, etc. This completes the machine, with the exception of a cylinder similar to those used in the common hand organ or music box, containing cogs, which, whea properly arranged, will, when turned by band or otherwise, operate upon the valves in such a manner as to play any tune desired, by simply changing the position of the cogs, which arc intended to be movable. One of these instruments can be heard from ten to twenty-five miles on the water, and every note w ill bo perfect and full. We heard the inventor play Rosalie on it, and it looked, like ‘getting pff tall notes’ mechanically. This invention is so completely under the control of the operator, that, were it arrang ed with a key board similar to a piano, it would obey the slightest touch, and a child could play slow or (juick tunes, every note of which might be heard several miles. It is the design of the inventor to place these instruments upon locomotives and steam boats. It would appear rather novel to John Dull to hear Yankee Doodle from one of our ocean steamers as she was about the enter a British port (say twenty miles) and it would remind a Yankee of his jack-knife to hear Sweet Home from the same vessel on its re turn to New York or Boston. This inven tion, if it meets the expectations of most who have seen it, will alter the lone of public de monstration on important occasions very essentially.” The New Congress. The following article ,from the Chicago. Times corrects an important error. The clas sification referred to, has been going the rounds of the papers, and was generally be lieved to bo an accurate statement concern ing the strength of parties in the thirty fourth Congress: “A Little too Fast. —The Detroit Free Press, in classifying the next House of Rep- ■ resentatives, with reference to the election of President by that body in case of a failure to elect by the people, puts down sixteen States for the candidate who may favor the Kansas-Nebraska act, fourteen States for the Abolitionists, and one (Iowa) divided. Among the fourteen Stales set down for the Abolition candidate is Illinois, which is a most outrage ous error. We have Woodworth, Washburne, Knox and Norton elected from this State by the fusionists; and Richardson, Harris, Altcn and Marshall by the Democracy; and in the other district (now vacant) a Democrat will be elected by at least four thousand majority. Illinois, therefore, will certainly be Demo cratic. We do not stop here. Mr. Wood worth, the member from this district, was always a Democrat until the fusion of last Fall, when by joining that party he was elected to Congress. We think his fusion and his abolition ardor all expired with his election, and we will bo very much surprised if on all questions be does not act with the Democratic party, particularly as the men who elected him have already designated hia successor. • “But the next election of President will not go to Congress. The Democratic can didate will get the vote of every Northern State except Massachusetts and Vermont, and every Southern State except Kentucky. The Hiss committees and the murderers of women and children will of course vote for the abolition candidate.” Superintendent of Indian Affairs in California. —There is probably po officer in California holding a position under either the Federal or State governments, who baa been the subject of as much vituperation and abuse through the press, as the Superintend' ent of Indian affairs. The industry, energy, determination and untiring effort*, displayed in the performance of onerous and difficult duties of his office, have met no other rf-: ward than unmitigated abuse and uncalled for censure. We are glad to observe lately, that a reaction baa taken place in this par ticular, and that there is more of a disposi tion to do justice to a worthy, efficient and faithful officer, S. JT. Sun . NUMBER 8.