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VOLUME 8. THE PLACES HERALD. lX a PUBLISHED EVERT SATURDAY, n„ Main Street, Auburn, PUcercounty, Col., by T. & C. H. MITCHELL. terms. . (Sabscriptions invariably in advance.) V.'.V“ ‘!!!!I ™ For six months • 2 00 F Subscriptions will be discontinued at time subscribed for, with out a continuance is ordered. bates of advertising. One square ol Tex Lines, (this sized type.) IS 1 «a»ObiUiary notices, or personal advertise- full rates. Notices of Marriages, bLn, or Deaths, free. “ deductions made to monthly or yC «rThe patrons of the Placer Herald arc re- to take notice of the above terms, as they ii i be required of every person. miscellaneous. .U ankehson. K- w. hillyeb, Notary Pub. XnDERSON & HILLYER, Attorneys & Counsellors at Caw, OFFICE—NEXT I>OOB TO COUNTY HOSPITAL, AUBURN, CAL. December 19, 1857,-my New Caw Firm. TAMES E. HALE and HORACE SMITH have J oMOciatod themselves in the practice of the j,, w under the firm name of BALE & SMITH. OFFICE—Nkxt noon to the Bakeky, Auburn, Cal. June 11th. 1859. HIRAM R. HAWKINS, Attorney and Counselor at Caw. OFFICE, next noon to norchoss' jewelry store, AUBURN, CA 1.. August 6th, 1859. J|, T. MILLS, C. W. C. HOWELL. MILLS & ROWELL, Attorneys and Connectors at Caw. OFFICE— is bbice ncii.ncNO opposite temple saloon, Auburn, Cal. July 2d, 1859.—my SURVEYOR’S NOTICE. C. W. FINCKY, Surveyor. .IIIBURN, PLACER CO., CALIFORNIA. HAVING had much experience in surveying both in the Atlantic States and California, is prepared to establish all lines and oxeecute all surveys with the exception of school lauds. “Al ways ready." Auburn, October 7th, 1857. JAMES WALSH. BOOT AND SHOE MAKER, Sign of the GOLDEN BOOT, main Street, AUBURN, CAL. Boots and shoes, harness, &c„ made to order. Repairing promptly attended to. and done in the best manner. Auburn, April ICth, 1859.—my J ROBERT FISHER. Undertaker.— All orders as Un dertaker, promptly attended to. 1 [n.v344] R. J.FISHER. EXPRESS AND BANKING HOUSES. WELLS, FARGO -000 & CO. s DISPATCHED DAILY TO ALL PARTS 01 THE COUNTRY. Gold Dust, Bullion, and Packages of every de scription forwarded. Collections, Orders and commissions promptly attended to. BILLS OF EXCHANGE SOLD, . _ PAYABLE IN ALL THE • rincipal Atlantic Towns & Cities. _ . HIGHEST PRICE *AID FOR GOLD DUST. TJe Hiprea in charge of SPECIAL MESSEN , i* daily between Sacramento and Nevada via Auburn. . JiNO. Q. JACKSON. Agent. Auburn, Oct. 2d, ’5B, ray * E ' »• UALL. B . c> ALLEN. HALL & ALLEN. BANKERS, Auburn, Todd’s Valley, and Dutch Flat, COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, deckion Sacramento and San Francisco. P\mo THE HIGHEST PRICE FOR GOLD sinn«ir Hake advances on Gold Dust con tinn.a , Assay or Coinage. Attend to collec transac t a GENERAL o« business. ™ ct! is_Auhiirn in Hyneman’s brick building JULIUS P. BROOKS. EXCHANGE & BANKING HOUSE, firn r, IN THE lIRE PROOF BRICK BUILDING , OPPOSITE THE AMERICAN HOTEL, AUBURN. S'r. KJ tK DRAFTS PROCURED, Payable in all Cs j ' rincipal Cities of the United States, tart « ,aai * Europe. Checks on San Francisco Gnls *n at Uar. Highest price paid for w»rd jf l ' Advances made on Gold Dust far ed for coinage or assay. Deposits Received. September 11th, 1858. CALIFORNIA mm j COACHES AVE AUBURN t 8. and 8J o’clock, A. M. Valley, Orleans Flat and Hlc, at 1 and 2 P. M. ’e Todd’s Valley and Michigan 1 o’clock, P. M. and Shasta, at 8 o’clock, A. M. Sacramento Nevada. ( « v c ? m P t on; 1 Ukee Jf J'wysviii, ll >oistoWrn and lowa Hill, at I o’clock, P. M SA|M. H. WHITMARSH, *bril i Agent Gal. Stage Co. THE PLACER HERALD. Gazing back on years departed, Sat a mother, lonely-hearted, Down her cheek sad tears had started, Wept she for an only son; Not a word her lips were saying, Reasons for her lips betraying; Rut her earnest heart was praying, For her lost, forsaken one. Bitter cold the wind was blowing, Cold the weary heart was growing, Forth to Heaven her prayer still going, Wept she for her only son. “Father,” cried she, "watch thou o’er him, Smooth Life's rugged path before him, Soon to my fond arms restore him, Save my lost, forsaken one!” While she wept her hopes grew brfghter; While she prayed, her heart grcwjighter; Tempests could no longer fright her; Hoped she for her only son. Soon her earnest prayer was granted. God soon gave her what she wanted; In her arms she clasped, enchanted, Her long-lost, forsaken one. Ye, who walk through life despairing— Never hoping, ever fearing— Hear that mother’s voice, all cheering, Telling of her only son! God is still His promise keeping. His kind care is never sleeping; Hope and pray, whenever weeping For some lost, forsaken one. A recent historian remarks that funerals in Scotland, like “wakes” i i Ireland, used at one time to Inrnisli occasion for hilarious feasting, uproarious wassail, and much un seemliness and profanity. In the former country we are told that; From the time the corpse was dressed till it was laid in tlie grave, and sometimes for days after that, drinking never ceased. The grief by that lime must have got very “maudlin.” The custom of those days im peratively demanded four or five rounds of whisker, and sometimes even more than this, with bread and cheese and other eatables in proportion, even from the widow and the fatherless in our peasant homes. A funeral procession was frequently a very muddled and straggling and staggering affair. The hearse would sometimes leave the company altogether, the horses setting off at a gallop, with the driver dead drunk on the box. On one occasion, when this was the case, the coffin was pitched from the hearse going down a hill at full speed, anti such was the bleared condition of the funeral party, that not one of them knew that such a catastro phe had happened; and when they arrived at the churchyard they found the hearse minus its burden, but no one could tell where it was. It was only a part of the procession, however, that arrived at their destination, for a boy, now an old man, who happened to be on the road at the time, has told us in sportsman’s phrase, that he found several lying here and there “winged” on the road side. The dying injunction of a Highland ser geant was, that every one who attended his funeral was to be sure to get drunk before reaching a certain stream half way to the churchyard. It is needless to add that the injunction was most faithfully carried out. The closing orgies were such, however, that even the sergeant, with all I.is martial char acter and love of whiskey, could not have anticipated. The party quarreled before reaching the grave, but on entering the bu rial ground the quarrel rose to its height. Clanship, and family pride, and rivalry ad ded fuel 'o the flames which whisky had kindled, and some of the bones of a former occupant that lay scattered about the grave’s mouth were used as weapons in the bloody fray. In a certain part of the North Highlands there was a famous stone up to a very recent period, called the McLeod Slone, as the only men in that quarter who could move it were a few who bore that name. This stone was a great eyesore to the McKenzies, some of whom could budge it a single hair’s breadth. All funeral parties rested at this stone, when the short kegs of whiskey were again pro duced. If any of the McKenzies were pres ent, the McLeod’s moved the stone, and of course, there was a quarrel. A funeral party drew up here as usual, some years ago, hut it was found that the stone of contention was broken to pieces. An old shrewd black smith, one of the McKenzies, dreading a re newal of hostilities, applied his forehammer to it on the night before the funeral. In the Highlands it was no uncommon thing at a burial to have several rounds in or about the house before starting, several on the road, when the burying was at a dis tance, another pull at the bottle in the churchyard, and a few more applications on returning to the house. When an innova tion was made upon these unseemly practices by a proposal to diminish the number of rounds at funerals, an old Highlandman, who had not only been accustomed to hard drink ing on such occasions, but also the bagpipes, left in high dudgeon, muttering, “they may bury the deid that like, or the deid may bury their nainsell; but I’ll bae naelhine tae dae wi’ a cauld dry burial.” Sheridan beautifully said; “Woman gov ern us, let us render them perfect; the more they are unenlightened, so much more we be. On the cultivation of the mind of woman, depends the wisdom of men. It is by women that nature writes on the hearts of men. At twenty years of age the will reigns; at thirty the wit; and at forty, the judgment. THE ONLY SON. Good Old Times in Scotland. AUBURN, PLACEE COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, FEBRUARY 18, 1860. One of the most curious of a series of Pa risian systems I have undertaken to describe, from time to time, is tlie service des pompes funebres , or city funeral. It is rather a lugu brious subject, certainly, with which to com mence a letter of gossip; but, if not particu larly cheerful, you will find a few lines devo ted to this topic to possess at least the merit of novelty. The Parisians are a methodical communi ty, even to the hurial of the dead. A funer al, in Paris, may be of the plainest and humblest description,or it may cost thousands of francs—according to the wishes, the pride, or the means of surviving relatives, who are enabled to select, beforehand, exactly the sort of ceremonies they desire, and to set down exactly their cost, from a printed tariff, on the “one price and no discount” principle. This system may be considered heartless and mercenary, by people not accustomed to it; and I have no doubt that New York under takers will so pronounce it, with all the en ergy of indignant conviction. Put why should not the burial of the dead be regarded in an economical light? Why shou.d not the family or friends of the deceased person get the worth of the money expended in his interment, whether the sum be ten dollars or a thousand? Why should a much greater profit be made upon the sale of a coffin than on a varnished box, sold for any other pur pose? The truth is, simply, that those who have lost a father, brother, son, husband, wife, or daughter, are generally too deeply plunged in affiiction to question the demands of greedy trade-men, who charge any exorbi tant price they think the parties able to pay, and are always sure of their money. In Paris, every item of expense is settled upon strict business principles, without any necessity to barter or cheapen. The whole duty of burials is performed by a gigantic administration,compiising every possible de tail, and issuing printed circulars, containing a full list of prices for funeral pageants, from the requirements of wealth and power down to the simple rites performed over the re mains of the humble poor, whose tombs bear no trophies. The Paris burials are divided into nine classes, of which seven are subdivided, ma king sixteen ( lasses in all. The cost of a funeral of the first class, with a magnificent hr arse decorated with nodding plumes and drawn by four horses, elegant coffin with silver plate and handles, a long line of mourn ing coaches, an army of mutes and profes sional mourners, unlimited quantities of crape, and everything in keeping with high priced grief, is precisely seven thousand one hundred and eighty-one francs, or about $1,400. The half of all this, still on the “first-class” principle, costs four thousand, nine hundred and thirty six francs. Next comes the second class, with a slightly less magnificent hearse, fewer coaches, and per ccptildy diminished weeping, at 3,404 francs for the full class, and 2,878 for the half. When you get down as far as the fifth class, you come to a varnished hearse without plumes and drawn by two horses only, a large falling off in professional mourners, and tears rigidly counted. The show goes on decreasing more and more, until we come to the ninth (really the sixteenth) or last class, where the hearse, plumes, horses, coaches, mourners and tears have all disappeared, and the insensible clay, shut up in a coarse pine box, is transported to its narrow cell, upon a common bier, carried by a couple of croque morts! Hut what better could he expected for eighteen francs and fifteen sous, or $3.75? The materials at present used by the Paris Company of Interments, consists of one hun dred and elect n handsome hearses, thirty-five ordinary draped hearses, thirty five without drapery, seventy-five mourning carriages, one hundred and sixty black horses, ten white horses, and a depository of coffins of all sizes and prices. White horses and a white pall are employed in the funerals of young un married persons. The employes of the com pany are a principal inspector, a sub inspect or, a book-keeper, twenty principal commis saries, thirty-two assistant commissaries, and eighty hearers There is a beautiful and touching custom observed by' tlie people of France when a funeral is passing. As tlie hearse moves slowly by, the men raise their hats and the women bow, in token of respect to the dead. To Dancers. — A dancing master at Mari posa lately introduced a novelty into Ids schools. The sets were formed as if for a quadrille, when the lady of tho first couple was called to “sashay” with the gent having the biggest foot in the set, or the gent with red hair, or with the long nose, or was the fattest or handsomest, homliest, best dancer, Ac. 'The performance occasioned a good deal of fun, and as might be expected, an occasional show of ill-temper by those un fortunate individuals who cannot take a joke. Gazelle. Little Farms well Tilled. —The editor of the Prairie Fanner, after a visit to the in terior of his State, thus discourses: The economy of space and labor are both important items in economical husbandry; and the best cultivators find that a little ju dicious planning is more profitable than the expenditure of a large amount of muscle in “getting over” a large area of ground. “I shall preach deeper culture and smaller farms,” said our friend, and we assented. It is the harp of a thousand strings that needs to be played on. Everywhere we go we see evidence of the and profit of good cultivation as compared with slipshod’s get ove-over-the-groond way of doing things. Gen. Scott is seventy-three years of age. and has traveled 13,000 miles since tb«2otli of September, 18$9. Funeral Customs in Paris. [From a late French letter.] A Corsican’s Revenge. Nearly ninety years ago a Corsican by the name of Giacomo, being driven from his country by some insurrectionary movement, settled in Cadiz, and opened a small shop for the sale of cheap laces and ladies’ trinkets, lie was poor, but had the reputation of being honest, lie was married and had a son ten years of ago. He frequently visited the house of Don Vel S , for the purpose of selling his wares. The Don had a preltv wife, and the visits of the Corsican soon aroused the husband’s jealousy, ami led to serious difficulty. To prove to her husband that his suspicions were unfounded, she in vited Giacomo to dine with her and her hus band. The Coisican, although astonished at the invitation, accepted it. and repaired to the house of the Don, accompanied by his son. The dinner was served on the roof ( f the house, as was customary, and a large number of relatives was present. After din ner the suspected wife sat talking with Giacomo near the eaves of the house—talk ing of the jealousy of her husband. The boy had been sent below at tlie request of the lady. Presently the lad heard a stamp ing of feel upon the roof, and wrenching open the door, hurried to Ids father—just iu time to see the woman hurl him headlong down to certain death below. The young Giacomo fled, with the groans of the crush ed and broken man still ringing in his ears. One week from that night, the Carnival was celebrated in Cadiz. Among the group of ogres and harlequins thronging the broad Alameda, a man in a rich, me!o dramatic costume, stood pelting the balconied ladies with egg shells filled with fragrant waters. In the height of feverish excitement and pleasure, a shot is heard, the caballero falls, shot through the brain, and just beyond the market place, with a smoking carbine nearly of his own size clapped in his tiny hands, a boy is seen stealing away towards the city gates. They raise the fallen man, and tear off the mask. It is the Don Vel S . He is dead! Through the following six-and twenty years, the same rod hand appears to have slain no less than fourteen of the im mediate kin of the Don; and the assassin, notwithstanding the efforts of the authori ties still eluded their vigilance. The Donna seems to have entertained frequent fears for her own safety, and offered an almost fabu lous reward for his detection and punish men'. The authorities seem to have gone so far as to pronounce the civil ban of outlawry upon the murderer, giving alt men authority to slay him at sight; hut, until within some six months since, their efforts seem to have been unavailing. During all this potiod, the unhappy Donna gave way to paroxysms of fury, described as of the most, fearful na ture. In her ravings, she called upon Ilea ven to avenge the death of her kindred, and to have heaped the most insolent of all in dignities upon the grave of the elder Giai ouio. Early in the past year, she left her house in the night time, and all traces were lost of her whereabouts unt’l quite recently. “One evening,” to use the words of the translator, “a fisherman hurried into the city, and be sought that he might be attended by a watchman ( serenos ) to a clump of trees be yond the limits, where, as he represented, he had seen the missing lady struggling with an unknown man. He described this latter personage as of the most terrible resem blance, with unclipt hair and whiskers, and his clothing in rents and tatters. He gave as a reason for not interfering in the lady’s behalf, that he was afraid lest his life might have been lost in an unarmed struggle with this demonical being. On tepairing to the spot indicated, they found traces of recent, struggling, and hits of silk here and there still hanging to the brambles. And for some lime, although the sounds of groans and sobbing were plainly perceptible, they were unable to catch sight of either. Making, however, a vigilant search, they found the unfortunate woman buried nearly to the mouth in a mass of loose earth and stones — a mere skeleton of what she had been—and with her shoulders lacerated in a fearful man ner bv the thorny hushes through which she had been dragged' to this living tomb While conveying her to the city, they were attacked by the same being described by the peasant, who, with unexampled ferocity, had halt reached the insensible form of the Donna before he could be speared by the lances of the watchmen.” The Donna has since died, and conjecture can alone supply (he key to this terrible mystery. The wholesale slaugh ter of the Vel S family is laid at Ihe door of the young Giacomo; and that, too, with seeming probability to those who up derstand the revengeful character of the Corsican, It is presumed that he, in some manner, had enticed the lady from her home, and then forced her into the far interior to endure starvation and perhaps frequent and torturous flagellations at Ills hand. It is quite probable that she was overtaken by him in an attempt to escape his clutches — from the fact of being found so near the limits—and, in a mad frenzy of hatred, sought to doom her to the most terrible of deaths—that of being entombed alive. We would not be considered as endorsing the truthfulness of the above story, which seems to us to partake of the melo dramatic ele ment in no small quantity; nor, indeed, are we willing to say that such things might not have occurred. But be that as it may, it certainly goes to give us an insight into the terrible mysteries of the Corsican heart, when driven to that desperate pitch of frenzy which the history of the Vendetta shows to be so easily excited, and so hard to allay. Woman’s Dignity.—lt is impossible to love where we cannot esteem; and no wo man can be esteemed by a man who has sense, if she makes herself cheap in the eye of a fool. From the San Francisco Overland Mail Letter. American Snobocracy. The love of title is a besetting sin of the universal Yankee Nation. It little matters, whether in Church, Army, or Navy, whether in divinity, law, or physic, so long as a man may acquire a handle to his name. Even the working classes, these unfortunate me chanics, whom everybody blarneys and every lecturer, policeman, and spooney toasts, ns the “Honest working men,” have their titles, rank and grade, not satisfied to ho appren tice, workman, boss, they are not content with less than major, captain or judge. When the Federal Constitution was adopt ed, it was determined that “no title of no bility shall be granted by the United States;” and well it. was so, else we should have been overrun with a greasy nobility, made in ro wan! for party service; we should have earls, dukes ami barons, kings, princes, and pon tiffs, counts, knights and gentlemen, ad nausevm. Peers of the realm would have been created hv every administration ns a re muneration for the dirty work of parly. — Every war would have converted its heroes into titled snobs. From the revolution down through the war of 1812, the Mexican war, the expedition to Paraguay and the late gal lant foray upon the Mormon Prophet Young, all would have turned out their corps of candidates for the house of Lords. Each State would of course in its sovereign capaci ty, issue letters patent of nobility, and thus the "Whiskey Rebellion” of Massachusetts, the nullification of South Carolina, Old John Brown’s captnae of Virginia, and Gen. Kihhe’s war upon the Indians of California, would have been immortalized in the page of history and the college of herraldry those magnificent noodles who are now destined to go down to posterity with the obscure names of Brown, Jones and Smith. Only think of it. “Wise, Duke of Ossawattamie," or Uncle Billy Rogers and Col. Jarhoe, con verted into Lords “ Nomine de Lack'' and ‘ Nomine Cult." If Magenta and Solferino should give ducal title to illustrate heroes, why not Kansas, Harper’s Ferry and Pitt. River. Then again in diplomacy, how fruitful a sound of noble name. Genral Scott at British Columbia, would deserve an earldom at least, and Sam Smith, for negotiating the war debt at Washington should ho made “Count Coupon.” Stars would blaze on every Democratic bosom, and garters hind every Republican leg. Uncle Jimmy (Julia ger in consolation for his defeat to (lie Leg islature should have the ribbon of the Legion of Honor. On the tombs of the dead and the carriages of the living, in marble and in undying paint, on the plate and panel, arms and quartering* of a political nobility would appear. The wheelbarrow of the celt, the lager cask of the Teuton should reflect in honor of the insigna of their political service. In the absence of such oppporlnnity for noble name, the Yankees make the best of the opportunity they have, and judges, es quires, generals, colonels, commodores, and reverends are thick as fleas in Happy Valley, so common have these appendages become, that thev have brought reproach on real titles worn by honest merit. The army lias its rivals in every town and a volunteer company of counter jumpers who must back against a Virginia rad fence to got in line, turn out corporals and ser geants. who are iruiourlesy called lieutenants, and lieutenants wlio are e.r gratia , captains, and captains who are majors, colonels and generals. Generals Taylor, Scott, Wool or Harney, who have won their rank in the van of fear ful and bloody encounter, bine no distinction in name, above Generals Sutter, Carpenter, Haven and Cobb, who have drawn a coik screw oftener than a sword. Commodore Stewart of the Navy, and Commodore Van derbilt of Wall street, and Commodore Bob Martin of the marine telegraph, are of equal rank. Captains, who have been educated at West Point, served through the campaigns of Mexico, are jostled by an hundred cap tains of ox trains across the plains. Capt. Ingraham, of the Navy, whose opened port holes frowned defiance to Austria in defense of American honor, Capt. Herndon who died on the Central America, calmly as (lie hero dieth, are no more captains than he of the canal boat, or the skipper of a clam schooner. The lawyer who from well earned honors at the bar is called to the bench, is judge; so is the pettifogger who for his ser vices as ward policeman, becomes wa’d magistrate, and our learned bench, Judges Field, Bald-'in and Cope, rank in title if not in learning with Judges Ryan, Hastings and Carman. The physician who toils at his profession and masters the mysteries of the human organization, is undistinguished from the horse doctor and itinerant vendor of quack medicaments, and there are moie Professors of Spiritualism, Phrenology, and Clairvoy ance, than professors in learned institutions. No title in rank is not travestied; our President of the United States is entitled “His Excellency,” so was John Bigler. John McDougal, John Johnson, and John Weller. Statesmen like Webster, Clay, Calhoun, and Benton, were called Honorable, so is Jasper Babcock, and Messrs, Pate, Phelps, Tilton, and Bob Rodgers’ brother Dan; and the most mortifying fact is, that a title once giv en always sticks. Witness, Hon. Nathan Porter, Hon. John Chen y, and a large class of late Honorable* scattered over California. Another fact, there is no discrimination or fitness in these names; a lawyer is called gen eral, colonel, doctfii etc. etc.. We hare General McDougal, Colonel Crockett, ami Captain Lippitt; General* Hainbly, Colonel Inge, and Captain Ryan; so also Dr. lleslep, and Dr. Barsto'w, among our practising Uw yers. In the clergy. Rev. Antoinette Brown and female doctors, ad infinitum. A Negro wood sawyer styles himself car penter, a carpenter calls himself architect, a sign painter is an artist, a stone cutler is a sculptor, a waiter must be addressed as stew ard; Snip, is a merchant tailor; a consign* ment of a bag of onions, a firkin of butter, and four cheeses, establishes a commission merchant. Petifoggers are styled lawyers, quacks doctors, street preachers are reverend, while in the military line, every rank is mul tiplied to the most disgusting extreme. In passing through our streets one sees more tilled men men than would have been found in the camps at Balaklava or at the general review in the Place Vendome—through the entire dav you hob nob to title. Yesterday morning we were shaved at Washington St. Baths, by the Honorable Mr, Smidt, and a little darkey called Doctor blacker! our boots; we went around to Colonel Coring s and took our morning cock tail with Col. Grant, General McDougal, and Judge Bourbank; stepped in with Dr. Parker at Generals Win’s branch saloon, where wo were waited on by the Steward, in an attentive wdiite apron, 'look a cigar with Col. Washington, Judge Thompson, and Chief Engineer after breakfast called upon Col.Doane, Sher iff, to know if Judge Drier, Clerk, belonged to, the Union or Pacific Club; saw Captain U;*a na and was informed that lie bad left Stale. Stepped in to the Police Court, saw Dr. Coon upon tire bench and Col. James defending Col. Child for resisting an officer. Capt. Moore, Dr. Burke, (the Chief of Po lice,) was on the witness stand, when the court adjourned in respect to the memory of Judge Scarborough, on motion of Col. Ting ley, and the cases of Colonel Hays and Dr. Hitchcock were postponed for sentence. —, Saw Col, Baker oIF for U. S. Senator in Ore gon, Dr. Hathaway, Hon. James A. Banks, and other distinguished Republicans being present. Capt. George W. Ryder, and Captain F. Shockley, thought of going up to look for a Port Wardenship, but, General Jack Addi son, Inspector of Liquors, having been super seded by Col. , determined to remain until after the next election, when Major. Graham, Col. Washington, Judge Tilford and all the balance of the titled Democracy will go up salt river. On our way from the, boat we had a chat with Gov. Waiuwrigbt, about the Dashaways, and ascertained that several very distinguished generals, colonels, judges and bonorabloa, bail fallen from grace, to whiskey. Dined at Col. Alden’s restaur ant, took a drink with Judge Chamberlain, went to bear Col. Crockett lecture ou young mechanics, having heard Judge Tracey ou eminent ones. Saw Major Burr, Col. Pear-, son, Judge Powers and other eminently ti tled individuals. After listening to an ani mated political discussoin between Col. Gift arid Col. Snowden, on the comparative mer-. its ol Gen. Jackson ami Judge Bolts, which, was referred for settlement to Col. Clarkson and Capt. James Baker, took a night cap, with Major Roman Major Solimans, Col. Se lover, Major Sin ton, Purser Welsh, Col. Hoge, Capt Hruham, a snob of a dentist who called, himself doctor, and Col. Judge Froelon, and retired to dream of the Emperor Norton, and .bo vanity ol all human greatness. Death of a Cheat Man.—The world of, Letters and the general reader, will deeply regret the death of Thomas Babington, Lord, Macaulay, familiar to this generation as the greatest of coternporaneous essayists and most fascinating of historians. He died sud;_ denly, in London, on the 28lh of Decemfoyfc of heart disease. Lord Macaulay was a pro lific and graceful writer. His last work (still incomplete) the History of England from the lime of the Restoration of ilie Stuarts, is a, noble monument to his genius. Whilst his historical writings betray elegance of stylo ami rare philological acquirement, they are scrupulously accurate and singularly recou.-. dite. Ho disdained not to step out of the beaten track of eventful history, and faithfully trace the progress of arts, record the condition of the humble masses, the rise of commerce and of manufactures, and to measure in his mellow diction the gradual elevation of the Commoner with the propor tionate descent of the Patrician, both to meet on a common frontier. It. is greatly to be regretted that he was called away before he had finished his last great work—his chef d'oeuvre. There is perhaps no one who can, continue the book which he has so ably com-, rnunced. Thackeray has the ability—but, we fear, is without the disposition to engage in so serious an undertaking. Hear what a gentleman, who returned from Carson Valley a dav or two since, tolls the San Joaquin Republican. “He reports the snow lying eighteen inches in depth for lbs past six weeks, where previously it re r mained but a day or*two. A gentleman who had 2,000 head of cattle in the valley, for the purpose of wintering them, has lost 2,000 head from cold and starvation —the remaining 000 it wa* thought would also die. The weather has been extremely cold, the thermometer frequently marking 20 deg. below zero. There is nolliing doing in the, silver mines, with the exception of the Mexi can claim, owing to the extreme cold; board, is $lO and 118 per week, and not of the best quality, at that. A Tjcklish Subject. “Marquis,” said; Louis XVI. one day, to the Marquis de Bierce, “you make puna upon all subjects, make one upon me.” “Sire,” replied the cautious Marquis, “you are not a subject.” The fashionables of Cincinnati, of th # “masculine persuasion,” have adopted the latest style of orarata —a shoe-string tied in, a bow-knot, with the ends dangling on tbu shirt bosom. NUMBER 24.