Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, June 8, 1873, Page 7

¢l ‘Upland Roads- ) : Indians--—-South Pass - City. Mountain - Scenery — Porcupines —— k * Gold-Mines—-Sioux-—Ab- - original Dandies, ‘Game==Miners’ b'elight--A‘ Mining. Camp. ) From Our Own Correspondent. . . MNERS’ DELIGHT, W50, Ter.,. May 26, 1873, The_ride from Bryan, on the Union Pacific ‘Railroad, ‘up’ info ‘the mountains, 'is pleasant “enough, though . i THE TOWN -OF. BRYAX ;is a8 dasolate a place as I have ever seen. A few .houses ara inhabited, but the majority of them, ‘have gons {0 ruin, 2ad only some broken adobe- “walls aro visible. The_usnal smount of old tin- -cans and bones are lying around loose, and add +40 the dreariness and wretchedness which rises -all about.. The stage-coach rolls along over.the .gravelly road, skirted on either hand with dwarf sage-brush, and prairie-dogs look at us wisely 88 we pass along. At Green River thereis a ferry-boat, and, after some difficulty, we are safe- Iy carried over, and sgainToll on over one of the finest natural roads in the world. The vast plain stretches out to the right and left, diversi- fiod with buttes and bonches of land; and, far away to the north, rise, grim snd white, the snow-capped Wind River Mountains. We see occasional patches -of cottonwood and aspen trees, with here and there a giant cedar, which bas been sleeping through the winter. We cross the Big Sandy River, one of the tributaries of Green River, and continue onr way along the old emigrant-road. A coach full of merry passengers causes the time to pass away agreeably enough, and we feel littls appre- “hension in regard to Indians, who occasionally prowl- around. About nightfall we come to & peat-looking log-house,—aftar crossirig the Big Bandy & second time,—where we get en excel- lent supper. ‘This place is called 3 A BANCEHE, ‘and, as the country we have_been traveling over -onea belonged to the Republic of Mexico, I do not know but it is all well enough. It is easier 1o say ranche than farm-house, or log-cabin, and conveys ita fall meaning to all who have lived in the Far West. The Mexican line extended north as far as tho forty-second degree of north lati- tude, and this ranche is near the line. The landlady has a hendsomo baby, and, on being questioned if ghe is not afraid of ‘Indians, womsan-like replies that she is not afraid on her own account, but is somewhat ap- prebensive on account of the baby. Baby ‘hereelt is bright-oyed and _healthy, and crows as if the world contained no such hateful things as Arrapahos, Bionx, or Cheyenne Indians., In coming along, we pass Simpson's Hollow, whera the Mornicns burnt one of the supply-trains be- {onging to the Government, in the autumn of 1857, some evidences of that event still remain- ing. 2 Little 8andy is crossed, as well s Dry Bandy, and then we commence getting among the foot- hills of the Wind River Range. As we approach ‘Pacific Spring, the man on the box halloos out : “ r<praxsl” and, on.looking out tothe left, sure enough there thay are, way over on the side-hill, halted wnd intently looking at us. The driverofsa freight-wagon, who has halted at tho yanche near .the spring, is considerably excited abont it; but we tell him to «come on withus, and, getting our fire-arms in Mmuinmmenm aacending the hills. The band of Indinns numbers perhaps & dozon, and {in the distance they look grim enough. e rise ngu;n the different hills, looking intently for the aborigines, but they seem to have disappeared dnthe earih, o to ave been iranslated o s other sphere ;. thoy are nowhere to be seen! By end by the driver thinks he can see them way off fn & gorge behind us, and the memory of them Zades from our minds. - We come to great drifts of snow, and cross the ‘Bwestwater River, which is rushing - clear and headlong to join the turbid waters of the North Platte, and thence on to the Missouri and the Gulf of Mexico. The waters of Pacific BFrm' s -which we have just left, empty into the Colorado of the West, and thence to the Gulf of Califor- ais We are indeed way up on the back-bone of the continent! After & rough ride of seversl miles, we reach SOUTH PASS CITT, = town of wonderful memories and dreary expe- iences,—a place which has becn death-stricken, and one which appears as if it had been blown into tatters by the mountain gales. A more thoroughly *played ont” eci never _have | Been,—for city it is, so far as houses are con- cerned; but “the inhabitants have * evanished before the storm.” How sad it is to ses 80 many excellent buildings gone entirely to rnins, and blackened by the mosses and ‘dampness which have crept ‘over them. This was at one time a plsce of exceeding promise, and vast sums of money have been expended hare'in the endeavor to improve the country. Some gcld has been isken out, but not mnear enmough to pay ex- Ponses; and here is the result! The question i, Will the 'country aromse from its ‘eleep, &nd becoms & mignty mining- camp’; or will it again relapse into the slumber Of oblivion? Who can tell? For my part, I elieve it has a bright future before it, and that #0ld will be found in such quantities 88 to_well Teward the laborer ; and the black gorges will eurrender to the hand of man their hidden Areasures. I could not have understood from a Tmere g::mtptmp how lél\lch l“:i beut:h done here, nor what s town once flourished in the gulch of Wiltow Gredh, aul The mountsin-rang: runs in a northwesterly dnsuc!.xun, and is believed by the red-skins to be “th BACK-BONE OF THE WORLD. Btill further to the west is the gigantio summit of Fremont's Peak, which towers, in all its mag- nificent besuty, above the white ‘domes of the -neighboring elevations. The pure white isinter- mingled with ethereal blue shadows, which aro as delicato appearsnce as the veriest t, and ®eleeping quistiy through the misty ages, of Pine throw their dack shadomerposs oo hills; snd uosightly cottonwoods, white and straggling, nestle like ghosts in the gorges ; their long and gsunt limbs shaking in the ‘winds, ane moaninfilika perturbed spirits. How grand s scene! Herccomes a bird from the Bnows above, sailing down toward the lowlands a0d pleaszat water-courses. Tired, perhaps, of the mighty ufmdenr of the Cordillera, it seeks the pencaful valleys of the Sweetwater, there 1o nestle amid tho bushes and spring-flowars, which are just beginning to peep forth. It is Srango that little birds should haunt these towering heights, which seem only fitted for the ers of eagles ; but they evidently like it, and chatter away as merrily as possible, while T morning bre ot e d in wh morning two of the dogs came in who bad boen having & TILT WITH A YOUSG PORCUPINE H thair noses and mouths are filled with porcupine uills, and they are altogether in a wretched con- 1hnn. The Doctor goes at the dogs with his Orceps and tweezers, and the poor animals howl ‘Tfiiwnutho ills are drawn out of them. 38 roofs of their mouths are fairly covered Yith the barbed points, and their wretchedness 'Ppears complete, Porcupines are quite com- op, and the Indians unse the quills as orna- Ients for their clothing. They are oxceedingly fafulin their dispositions, and stand on o ¢nsive at all times and uader all -circum- o The g:gnlu belief is that these :‘.fllfls can throw their i i m?{v. bat " this i o. They can Teaip.ot ;B0 Of their quills when touchod, thaving them eticking in the skin, whench h:i Tork their way upward into the The dogs seem to learn nothing by Experi t are always eager to attack, even iough they are flled with qualls, - Their eal in a8 overcomes their judgmont, and they - the contest with s much vim ‘as if they e :'ge:!mmn‘npoxcgi:: 1111 all - their s ese enimals appear lentiful near i ok Mle &fs;he_ng?kivung e of moun- . ‘were of any possible could APEured irconsiderablo ambers, MINES HEREABOUT 2ot sppear to bo doing v ery well. Bad man- eat, more than anythi else, is the cause EE & 5 £ of the failure. No doubt there is an immonse deal of gold in the mountains, and some of the ' EGings and leads that. have been struck are: 1very rich indeed. To an unprejudiced mind the. fact remains'that this ridge of mountains is rich -in mineral deposits, which, in o few.years, will yield fine returns. It is true that' the sea- sons are short, and that in summer- ‘timo, there i8 & scarcity of wator. THese draw-- acks will be overcomo,—as miners know how to- get along,—provided there is a good prospect of a fair return for the labor bestowed. “fn winter msny of them dig_out a great deal of dirt and, gravel, snd commenco washing as soon as the! WArm weather malos its appearance, 8o that they; -con geb . water from tho - melting snows. Tha miners work with a will, though they are au im- providort raco of people, ‘and nearly sll of them. are addicted to gambling, - A day or two ago, a_ miner discovered some fine placer-diggings, and took out one mugget -over an onnee1n weight,and worth about 820.+ I¢, :will novdo to say. theso mines are worked out, forthe truth probably is, that they have'never yet been properly worked, and -that -herenfter they will provo better than ever. . - At this altitude on the monntains, ' °° _ THE STORM-EING ‘éems to reign over everything, and storms burat mxiouafi?in every diroction. No ‘house seems sufficiently well built to koep out the blasts; and snow, even as Iate as this date, sifts .throngh the cracks and crannies, and covers,the ' mines. It would bedifficult to tell how much gold hias been taken out thus far, but it is fair to -6ay that no great_fortunes have beon mude, nor has anybody wended hLis way to- the lowlands) with o gatisfactory amount of gold. ~* - THE SIOUX INDIANS -occasionally make their appearance heresbouts, and, after committing soms dastardly murdors, mako their way to_tho eastward, to thair-own 1ands, along the Big Horn . and Yellowstone Rivers, where thoy toll great storios of their nchievoments. To take a scalp is a great thing in their opinion, and for days .and .days they wander sbout alone, hoping to fall in with some person, totally unpreparsd to meet them, whom ' they murder, and then wend their way to their lodges,—sometimes hundreds of miles distant,—whoro they show their bloody trol‘)zhy, and stroll -about the village, beating their war-drums and boasting of their great prowess in war. No boaster on earth can exceod an Indian “brave,” as he considers himself not only the handsomest man in the world, but tho bravest being on the planct, No popinjay can put on more airs, and, whon_they are rosming about, singing -tnd glorifying themselves, in their own villages, no dandies ever looked upon themselves with pgroater complacency. They have a kind of whito earth, which they smear over their {aces, as ladies do pearl-powder, and then consider thomsolves the most beautiful of “created beings. Buch slarming self-complacen- cy and.inborn foppishness do mot. exist else- where. 'Tho * curled darlings of fashion ” think s grent deal of themselves, but Indian dandies can beat them a hundred to ono. . Miners have & great.contempt, and at the same time a wholesome fear, of the Indians. “One of them told me he had rather ** BAISE THE LINT " onone of them than perform suy fest in the world. He said his time had been’ equally divided between bunting Indisns snd mining, snd that both pursuits wero exciting and hedged in with pleasure. To *‘knock the iilling out of s red-skin” was s deed, in his opinion, worthy of alt praise; and he carrioda rifio with bim on all occasions, 80 as to be readyto carry “out 8o laudable an ambition. To hoar him teil it, you would have supposed he had waded knec- deep in the goro of the savages, and kept 2 pri- vate grave-yard especially for his own victims, THE TOWNS of South Pass_City, Atlantic City, and Miners’ Delight are all in & semi-circle around the base of the mountain-range, and about four miles part. Between the two latter there is a small _military post. Three years ago, South Paes City and Atlantic City were flourishing settloments, but now seem to be gone pretty much to decay. The promise at that time was good, but, like many another fair prospect, it has ‘turned to nothing. The Shoshonee Indians have s reserva- tion, and Miners’ Delight is located thereon. The Indians are not anxious to have the white men moved from their lands, as they are too well aware of their value, and know that they are the best protection they can have against the incnrsions of the Sioux. This was once a great country for game, and may yet be properly so considored. In winter the red-skins in the valley below kill a great many animals, and reap a suitablo reward. There is nothing of any great interest connected with the land, end but little can at present be said in its favor. Were it not for the furious storms that prevail almost all the time, it would be pleasant enough ; but, when these storms aro once started, they seom -nevor to come to anend. For days anddays together, the wind howls about, and eheet and snow cover up the landscape. Nothing is in s very flonrishing con- dition. The spring is backward, the weather raw, and the storms threatoning. > AT MINEES' DELIGHT there is & fine mine, and great returns will be received from it. The mining camp at_this Pplace is, in fact, the most lively place in this section of country. No doubt exists as to the fact of there being good paying ore in this local- ity, and amill is at. work all tho time. I saw some fine specimens of gold, or nuggets, which bad been taken out in Spring Gulch, slong which the log-cabins composeing the camp are built. ‘The und has been dug up 2ll about, and alresdy a good dealof gold has boen found. Here i3 'a camp in glory, and bearded miners are seen on all aides. It reminds one of old Californis days, when every man hnd his pockets well lined ' with the yellow metal, and every man was doing well in & Ppecuniary. point of view. I saw a bright-eyed and beautiful little girl in this place; whose {father was killed near by, by Indians, last fall. A pretty heavy gamo of draw-pokor was being Pplayed in the back part of the store, and the miners were enjoying themselves in their pecu- liar way as well a8 they conld desire. =~ . | On the .esst end of the ridge thera are two good mills, where the gold ‘quartz is crushed,— one of which it in operation all the time, as be- fore mentioned. The camp is not & picturesque glm by any means, in this snowy, muddy time ; mt it possesses vitality, which is the one thin; to be desired. Large growths of cottonwor extend up the monntain-gorges; and along the bold rocky barriers, near the top, there are many pine-trees. 3 HERE YOU FIND PROSPECTORS who have spent years among the Sierras, and Lound gold slong many of tho mountainstréams. They are a peculiar class of pecple, and no_dan- ger seems to daunt them in the least. I met one man who discovered the gold in this locality three years ago. Ho seems to be getting along well, and has great faith in the future of Miners' Delight. I mustsay I share in his belief, and have little doubt but some of the best leads in the Rocky Mountsins will be discovered here- abonta. mining region has' been badly managed, and some. capitalists have ‘been in- duced to invest their money in mines which have proved to be absolutely,worthless ; but this does not alter the case at all; there are some very rich mines near here, and the fact will become well known within the next two or thres years. ALGEBRA. —_— EHow Votes are Countcd in Paris. The correspondent of the London Telegravh thus minutely describes the method of making up the election returns in Paris: “ Paria ia divided into twenty arrondissements, and in each of these larger divisions are various sections, varying from ten to twenty, where vot- ing could be carried on. In the Department of the Seine—which, by the by,includes vary little more “than the city of Paiis—there were three hundred an twenty of thess so- called sections. The voting lasted from 6 °°;¢°§§u£ the (o till 6 p, m., and the o1 was invarizbly the eame at every sec~ ion all throngh tho day. In the voting.zo0m, three gentlemen are seated at a table, on which a square denl-box is placed, secured by padlock, and having a hole like that of a money-box. At a side table close by eits a fourth individual, who has long lists spread out before him. To this last official, each elector exhibits hiscard, attest- ing his right to & vote; ho thon, his name having, been noted, passes on o the other table, slips " his bulletin into the box, and his buti is done. The voting-room’gen- erally the lnrgmat spariment in the Mairie, or other building appointed for the d pose—is open to everybody. For my ow Pt s allovent, T walkod o o grest “many i T:xsxegnh;me my pockets full of bulletina which o had rced upon me, and nobody once saked me a question. I bappened to ba at the Mairje in the Hotel Drouot &t 6 o'clock, the hour fixed for. '.ha.:Fening of the ballot-boxes, and T was thus enabled to watch the whole process of sorting the tickets The arrangement was begun in'this wise: A balioting box having been opened, and turned upside dowe, coram populo, to show that no tickets had been left inside, sorter No. 1 takes up one folded paper from the heap before him, opening it fiat, and passes it to his neigh- bor, 'who, #a 8oon 88 he. has ten together . un- sorfed,” passes the little bundle on further. Sorter No. 8, after counting the tickets, pins the ten together, and transfers them to, sorter No: 4, who, whou he has 3-‘01_ ten of these bundles, or 100 "tickets in all: pats them inside s lazge envelope, which he hands to the Presi- dent ; and I happened to be next to one tabls, and I can certify to the scrupulous care exhib- ited by all concerned in the counting. Thia pro- ceas finished, it was announced that 2,236 7apers -had bean collected, representing that number of _voters out of 3,800 inscribod. The President staied howerer, that the number of persons who Lad votod was 2,225, although.?2,236 bulletins had been counted, sdding that the error would cer- tainlv be discovered in the process of Borting. He-then begged any four gentlemen in tho room to0 seat themselves at-each of tha tables. Two of the sorters at each table had laid beforc them a printed form, headed - Depouillement ‘ des Yotes,’ and: marked vith dots, arsnged in linés of ton, each lino being denoted by its correaponding number. Another gen- tioman, cpening: oae of the envelopes of 100 tickots, took out a bundle of ten and alawly road out the names written on each bulletin. His companions writing the name -of each candidate -sbove a column, marked a,dot every time the neme was called; while smatenr-sorter No. 4 -arranged the bulletins sccording to candidates. Errors wore all but impoesibilitics, and the dis- crepancy alluded to by the chairman waa discoy- erod in the very fivst dlo opened. - The room was crowded;” yot so intent was -overybody on_ businoss fhat there was no noise. Indced, the lamps with green shades “on overy fable, the quiet, serions-looking galerie of overlookers round ench, the huissiers: gliding noigelessly sbout, and the monotonous voices of - the tellers, - 2s unchanging as thongh they were croupiers, reminded me irresistinly of s gambling-houso. At times a question arose. For instance, one elector had written Garibaldi on his balletin, and another Napoleon IV.—on which latter incident the President remarked: that the Princo was_not of age. Usually, how- ovor, there was nothing to disturb the monotony of the slow itoration of Remusst! Remusat! Barodet ! With an occasional Stoffel.” i LEVE, 8oy, what is love,—s simplosound ~ « 1 lettors four expressed 2 A thing fn man but eeldom fonnd,— 1 lives not in bis Leset, such o on cal ‘we trace, *Tia woinan elaims the whole 7 You read it in hcr gentle faco That there portrays her soul. . But man’s frail vows will uot endre ; He masks each subtlo thought ; Ono knows not when his love is pure, Nor is it when it ought. AB Y woman loves with all her soul, With purity and faith ; It is an all-absorbing thing, t flls hor every thought, And steals unbiddes to her heart, Unasked for and unsought ; A voios that whispers day by day With eloquence divinog From » destined ray Tpon her path to hine; A holy, hallowed thing of Heaven, That's handed down to carth ; A pacred trust unto us given, Of pure and spotleas birib, Tho proudest heart will humbly bend Boloro ita mighty spell; Tho closest ties 'twill radely rend, And stormicst passions quall ; Once launched upon s magle tide, Our lives seem but 8 i Girt in the rosiest tints of hope, Upon earth's flowing stzeam, The heart awakes and gushes forth In strains unheard beforo, Like muslo from some fairy spot, Some undiscovered shore. And one by oue sweet flowerets bloom Upon-Lifo's desert-plain = Bat oh! if blighted once, they ne'er Can blossom there a, Then you who Iove aag ars beloved, Ratsin stem, Nor dly cast asido the charm 71ia brig e pock sings 5 1o 3 true the poet love, T'a oft his favorite theme And many sposk and write of it, And many of it dream But none can foel that love, trus love, Usclunging, decp, and pie, That dwells within & woman's heatt, snmtmn%y irearas, of one dear £ o she dreams, of one dear farm, 'And sees reflected there Like one who, with somo magic glass, In Heaven's blue vault descries A host of bright and glittering things ‘Unseen by other eyea. Aud thir, oh ! this, is what I think Love' attribntes to be. May you believe the same, and drink ‘Life'a cup of joy with mo, Dusy, S s FASHION. From the New York Evening Mal, English thorn is tho fashionable wood for sticks and umbrella-handles. —Very protty chatelaines and their attach- ments are now -made of vulcanized India rubber, ornamented with gold. —A new fabric, made of woven glass, has been invented for ladics’ dress material. It can't be stained, and is incombustible. —Dog-carts sgem to have gono suddenly out of favor ; very few are to be scen on the avenue or in the park. % % —Plain_white note-paper, very thick and heavy, with a crest in black outline, is now de- clared to be the proper thing. —Italinn kide aze beginning to be worn very extensively here, on account of their cheap- ness. —Tow shoés and stockings of gorgeous colors and pattern are to be worn by gentlemen this summer. o —Ladies'" water-proof cloaks, so light that they can easily bo' folded into & parcel small enlc:!nsh to be carried in thedross-packet, arenow sold. - ¥ —The mania’ for fiashy imitation jowolry has broken out among our. bollea_agnin with gront virulence. There must boa trace of remi-bar- ‘barism in‘American society, to secount-for this Hottentotish taste. 1o . —For full-dress, gentlomen wear, instead of & ‘watch-chain, a_fob-ribbou; ntter the fashion of their grandfathers, with ‘a seal attached, the (older-looking the ‘botter. This taste for old ewelry is in opposition to shoddyism, the ‘object eing to show that the wearer is not the firat of the family who ever possessed any jewelry. A Danbury Man’s Adventure. Trom the Danbury News. A Danbury man started for Greenwich, Fri- day, to see an iron fence. What he wanted to Bea an iron fence for wo don't know, and it really ‘males no difforence. He went. He wantod to go off on the 9:50 train, 50 he hurried home to get resdy. His wifo and a vicious outside woman were cleaning house, and it was some little time before he could get his uocieg suit ready. In tho meantime he opened fire on the largest Klll of & custard pie, holding it in his hand, snd dancing around and yelling for his things. When she “bronght his overcoat, he set the'pie in a chair, to put on the coat, but in his nervonsness- stepped onthe end of along-handled whitewash brush which was balanced across a pail, and the other end flew up and discharged about a pint of the swful mixture over the sofs, wall-paper, and his ‘panting and indignant wife. Bhemnde A remark and he contradicted it. Then he sat down in the chair where the pie was, and got up with a Lowl that would have melted the stouteatheart. She wanted him to "wait while she scraped off the surplus, but he was too mad to converse in words of more than one syllable, and started for the depot, and boarded the train, and in the seclusion of the baggage-car removed the offen- sive lunch. He got to Greenwich all right, and locked at the fence. We hope he admired it. Then he started for home but miseed the train, aud as the next was an exgxsss and dido't stop at Greeawich, he was obliged to walk to tho draw- bridgo st Cog Cob or stay in Greemwich allnight 8o Lio walked up there in tho_rain, but didn't mind it much, 28 he had an umbrella and the pie ‘was pretty well dried in.. When he got to Cos Cob bo sthod up on a fenceto look at the scenery, and swear, when a sharp gust of wind took off ‘his hat and carried it across a bog lot. Then he stepped down on the other side, too amazed to express himself, and another gust of wind came along, and turned the umbrells ineide out. A ‘brief conversation here ensued between himself and the umbrella. which he still held, and he sgain started for tha hat, ‘When he got to it, he Idcked it around several times and then jammed it down on his head, and started once more through the bogs as the train drew up at the bridge. It was % ‘teflbhu“'msi,gh' ;a 8 I':o were uncertain, bu strained, and. coug| and spit, and howled, and swore, and it did seem as if he would catch it sfter all. What he thought as he stood on that fence and watched the ‘:?Lm sail across the bridge, no human being can t An hour later he appeared in Stamford, wet through to the skin, splashed with mud, and with an expression on his face that would have scared a hydrant. himself sgainst the depot he stood there until near. midnight, and then went up on the owl train to_ Norwalk, fall- ing aaleop inthe mezntime, and narrowly es- caping being carried by the depot.~ Hera he tock the freight for Danbury, arriving.at home just | before Afsylighl‘ His wife was abed but not sleeping. ~She Iay thers torn by forebodings and harassed by suspense. Perhaps he was dead and Emg on the cold ground in the rain. . Then she ought of -his'lifeless “body, and groaned ; and thought of the pie and again; Sho kn his kmock the moment it sounded, snd, rushing down-stalrs “in the costume" ’appropriate "‘to that hour, sho threw horeel into his hair and jl.:“y;{ernog.lly shouted, *Oh,yon old rascal! Come 10re. THE EXCAVATIONS IN POMPEL. " ‘Progress and Classification of the ‘Worl. Aaples Correspondence of the Doston Advertiser, Guiscppe Fiorelli, Senator and Direotor of tho ‘National Musoum in Naples and of the works of excavation and restoration at Pompeii, is ons of thoee who deserve well not only of their ownday ‘atid gencration, but of many others yet to como, Ho is s man who at first sight would riot impross o stranger ; of medium height, smoothly shaven, simply droseed, quiet in manner, and’ simple in speech. You might pass him & hundred times, pasaing through tho alleys of the villa, smokiig his cigar, and think him but a plain, middle-aged bourgeois. But his face bzs its pecaliar charne- ter, which is none the’ less emphatic beczuso it doen not flost upon the surfaco. Regarded in profile, the head and the cleanly-cut featurea re- cell to you at onco the busts of the first Napo- Jeon ; in the expression you find steadiness as woll a3 blandness; and - tho bright eyos, that look a littlo distant at” times, have in their “depths glances that pierce ‘And search, and will not be denied. And the face well indicates the man—naturally pleseant, celm, patient, intelli- .gent, and resolute ; in a word, a man- to resolve problems, to clear up perploxed questions, and to do much with little. Whoever remembers the state in which Pom- peli and the museum weie under the Boairbons a dozen years sgo, and ‘sees them now, counts their orderly and logical arrangement and main- .tenance almost miraculous, and bogina to calen- Jato what great sums must have beon expended and, what numbers of assistants employed. Yot véty small allowances have beon made by the Government—tho entry feea being absorbed by the payment of the attendants—and only ordinary. custodians and & handful of tech- nical ‘poople being at.the disposition.of. the director. .To his extensivo plans, his careful dietribution and lucid Bx&l!murion of their datics to his subordinates, and to his own ceassless labor, are the results principally due; others have farnished hands, but ho has been called upon to supply nearly all the brains, ) the Museum the greatest part of the work is done, The vast halls and corridors have been cleansed and polished; new pavements in stone -or coment have been laid, and the ceilings have been decoratod with ornaments in stncco, copied from the best Pompeiian models ; tho walls havo been tinted, and incrusted with the inscriptions, mural tablets and sculptured fragments whicl had been hidden away in atorehouses and cellars; spacious cabinets have been Enl ap, and the articles of minor sizo which they contain have been classifiod, 8o that among the Pompeiian bronzos, forinstance, one no longer seces sauce- pans, personal ornaments, and household gods cheok-by-jowl, in o dirty rack, covercd bya coarse wire screen ; the historic and ideal busts bave been sorted’ snd brought into groupa; marble figures of like character bave been gath. ored into the same chamber, and the splendid bronzes, mounted upon new pedostals, have been set whers th‘el{ can be examined or all sidea. Nor is this At tho same time, Fiorelli bas had in progress a complete catalogue of the musenm, of which some portions E:m been already printed. In the room where are the ancient arms, musical instruments, theatrical counters, etc., already are hung proof copies of the relative pages, giving an iden of the minnte- ness and exactness of the work. One numis- matic volume is complete and published. When Fiorelli %‘:fi:fl his labors the collection of coins and mo was stowed away in bags and boxes, the former direction of tho museum having shronk from the task of arrangoment, aithough the Government would have assigned a large sum therefor. With the help of his regular staff, Fiorelli has cata- logued and_described every coin, medal, and counter, and carried throngh the press this vol- ‘ume which records and illustrates the medioval and modern coinages, and jncludes an appendix devoted to seals, bulls, and essere. The former mnnng:manl- of Pompeii was no leas blameworthy than that of the museum. ta once excavated were loft meglected, or even filled up with tho debris taken from other sections, and_what was portable had been car- riod away; little pains was takon to pre- serve tho aspect of tho locality and to cro- ate a comprehensive idea of the ‘charac- ter of the city. A few strects and edifices were kept in tolerable order to attract public in- terest, and give a semblance of management, while in_reality onlm very slight supervision was maintained. What was left of the walls and pavements was rapidly deteriorating, and through surreptitious excavations many articles of intcrost found their way abroad, iwhile the conscientious artist or student, onthe other hand, found many obstacles thrown in the way of his investigations. Fiorelli has changed all this; and, whilo he prosecutes tho excavations with exact formality and under an almost military uvumi&‘ht, ho gives weicome and liberty to the painter, the architect, or tho historian tho comes to portray, to study, or to describo. Undor the direction of the Min- ister of Public Instruction, he Las prepared aroport for the Exposition at Vienna, which givea o resume of his work from its ince) tion - to the_end of Jrne, 1873, whichis itse a littlo ‘marvol of learning and of faithful- mness -to the smallest detail. Put a small edition of the volume has been printed, and this is chiefly intonded for the libraries of the chief ecientific societies'of ‘the world. I have been so fortunate as to obtain one of the few extra copies at the disposition of the Minis- ter, and to it I am indebted for the substance of the following parsgraphs. The book itself is a handsome quarto, illustrated with & number of plates in chromo-lithography, and a serica of to- ‘pographic plans which give tho detaile, on the scale of 1-400, of every cdifice and of evary streot uncovered at the end of June last. - Betwoen 1748 ahd 180 there had been uncov- ered in the territory-of Pompeii 119,526 square metors. _As I have intimated above, the excava- tions had not been continuously prosecuted, but only in sach sections of the city as. promised, upon superficial invostigation, o repay in ma- terial objects a further search. The first thing in Florelli’s mind naturally was to clear awa; all the intervening sections to establis » ckotch-plan of tho city, and to con- tinue . the future. work = regularly from point to point, holding the value and interest on the uncovered region a8's whole to be greator than those of isolated quarters, however at- tractive in themselves, Accordingly, on the 24 of January, 1861, this system was adoptod and work began, the Government having 2ssigned {for tho excavations, and for the care of their relative museum in Naples, an annual sum of 110,000 francs.” To this'amount are to be addea the entrance fees of vieitors—which at Pompeit averages about 80,000 francs per year—and oc- casional emall gifts from tho royal purso, or from the incidental expenses sccount of some Minmatry. The visitors' foes, however, scarcely more than equal the salaries of the technical staff and custodians, the latter of whomare now mora than forty in number, receiving s daily stipend of two francs, their pay having been raised in 1862 from a franc snd o half, to com- pensate them for the loas of gratuitiea from visi- tors, which are not allowed to be given. _To indicato the material results obtained by Fiorolli, I may say that the excavated tract of Pompeil has been increased by 110,857 square meters ; more than 400,000 cubic meters of earth and rubbish have been dug up and carried & mean distance of nearly 87.18 meters upon the heads or shoulders of the laborers, and Fnahed apon little railway cars no less than 534.62- me- ters. As fast as the excavation proceeds all re- parablo damage is made good, so that at least the walls of each building may remain to indi- cate its own character and that of the neighbo: hood. To this end, masons have had to do near- 1y 80,000 cubic metérs of building, and 85,000 of superticial restoration. Tho railway by which the overlaying material is removed beyond the cit; limits has been built; a Pompeiian library an archzological school hava been founded, and a complete miniature museum hns been estab- lished near the sea-gate of the city, containing specimens of all classes of objects which the grent musoum in this city can show. Yet for all this, Fiorelli had spent but 1,118,651.66 francs up to the 30th of June, 1872! Pompeii is now divided into regiong and insule, and every building Las its number. The plan iw&lba :nguri if Icall the ares between mont, Park, and Beacon streets a regione ; then the Tremont House, Park Street cgn;ch. the Athenmum, and each other mass of building, would cons an insula. - Fiorelli's report de- scribes, as his plans display, the architectural details of every edifica; gives the monumental inscriptions, and the epigraphs painted upon the outer walls of houses and shops, and_personal inscriptions recorded in colored chalk here and there, and all the internal evidence which he has acted upon in ateributing to various buildings their ownership or occupancy by particular per- sops. S 1} gives s classified list of all the mural paint- ixifs which have recognizable subjects, and of all works of plaster art ;' the principsl gems are ion ies are enuim- all the minor articles for domesticservice, for the toilctte; the surgery, ‘and for ornamont- ing the person or the apartment, which have been found. These last classes include the enormons number of 19,884 separata articles, all no perfect or ezpablo of repair, without tho intro- duction of new parts or the alteration of old ones, -while. tho frazments -are absolutely conntless. There oeems to have been nolack of glass.among tho Pompciians ; s an instance. I note that of 536 unguent-holders, 509 were of that material. Provisions: and vegstables, water, oil, and dye- stuffs all find their placo in these interasting liats. and thero is no Iack of bores of -horses, catily, and other nuimals. Eighty-sevon. human kelofons bavo been found, and casts in plaster havs beea'mado of six entire bodics, using the impression left by thom in the earth as & mold. Entertaining and instructise are the accompa- nying dissertations upon ths number and char- acter of the Pompeiian population ; tho disposi- tion of their dwellings nad laud, and their oceu- pations ot different_periods ; the varions styles of buildings now to be recognizod; and the causes ~which lod to their adoption.. Bat of theso I have now no room to speak and’ do them justice. I must, howover, talo the space to add that there yet romains to excavale within the city walls & :Elca of 425,000 equare yards, to which must be ided something for the area occupied by the tomba, which, it is not unreasonsble to expect, will be found beyond the unexcayated gates. At the averago ra‘é of progross during Tiorelli's dircction, there will be required for this work no less thaa soventy-four yeurs and three months, cemploying an avorage force of eighty-ono work- ers on 300 days per annnm, and the expense will be about 5,000,000 francs—unlces the value of manual Iabor ghall rise more rapidly in Italy than it acoms lilre to do. E S ANCIENT ART. Tlo Eromzo flead of the Castellani Collection—An Etrurian Prince in Eis Cofiin. . « From the New ¥ork Evening Post. Afteralong discussion the British Mnsenm hes at laat become proprictor of the famous Castellani collection, which antiquarians rank ssone of the most valusble made in modern tirmes. The.gold and silver ornaments exhumed by tho Iialisu goldsmith form aunique series illustrative of the best ancient jewelry, particu- larly of Etrunan and Southern Italian. If England did well in old times to buy tho fibula in grained gold from® Tascanella, which is oxquisito, and the sceptre found in a tomb at Tarentum, which shows a delicate network of gold throad, ithas done equally wall in-ac- cepting the offer of Signor Castellani and trans- ferring his collection to national ownership. The collection” consists mostly of bronzes, marble, patere, Etrurian vages, and many other objects in metal, ivory, and amber. There is, for example, an Umbrian drinking-cup, of ephinx fashion, with & human face, crowned with s cap of scarlet and gold. The cup pre- sents & dark ground, withered figure and ara- besques interposed between the white wings of the ephinx, which forms the ground of the de- sign. Another marvel of beauty is a bronze strigil, the handle of which, for art, is ecareely to be equaled in any existing collection, A marble head of Ceesar iz full of singular skill and deli- cate perception of the ertistic. Of Etruscan vases there are a number of examples of such novelty of design, with curious faucics in high relief, a3 to acquaint critics with & new echool of Oscan ceramic handiwork. The famous ivory carving of !i%::fl fighting, which set all the con- noisseurs of Maples agog when it was discover- ed, has in this collection become the progirly of the British Muscum; and there is a bear in bronze, no bigger than & fancy box for bon-bons, which is so vivid and spirited in its modeling as to stand unsurpassed. As a catalogue raisonnee is not within the scope of newspaper discussion, it is proposed hero to describe the two pieces de resistance of the collection—the one & bronze head, possibly of Apbrodite, found in Thessaly ; tho other & rare terra-cotta of native Etruscan work ex- humed at Cervetri, the ancient Cemre, which is one of the most elaborate sarcophagi ever dis- covered, and bears an inscription recording spparently the names of the person buried in the cist and of the artist who modeledit. The former is a fragment weighing rather less than ten pounds, The back part of the ead is gone, and the mutilation of the throat begins at the first curve of the shoulder. Con- tinental critics have lavished a kind of pas- sionate praise on this rolio of ancicnt art, which costs tae British Museum, it is whispered, £40,000—an oxtremely moderate price. None of these Italian rhapsodies have been misplaced: An English expert pronounces it to be *‘ beyond doubt tho finest and loveliest piece of human creative labor which the world possesses.” Thore are, perhaps, ong or two bronzes at Naplea which comparo favorably with this lately-resuscitated goddess. Three others in the British Musenm—the well-known head of Ho- ‘mer, the famous portreit hoad from Cyrene, and the wonderful ideal figuro of Hypnos—are no donbt of as high n typo. The last—the alumber- of the ancients—will be remembered )y froquentera of the British Museum as wrought. with excceding wealth of poetic suggestion, having soft and slumberous owls’ wings commingled dreamily with a silken flow of hair. An expression of tender dreaminess rests nlpnn the countenance—a sweet but nntranslata- Dble beauty, liko that which Homer indicates in his oft-repeated epithet of nedumos—balf deep, half pleasing. This head is not of the carly Greek art, and has not_its majestic severity. = Equally alien is its spirituality to the merely huma. loveliness affected by Scopas and I'raxiteles. It is not of tho firet ages of the ideal in Greece, nor is it of tho degenerate age of insipid realism that came ter, but rather seems to belong to the most interesting period of Athenian aculpture, when, to pervert Drgdan art no longer sought to raise & mortal to the sisies, and had turned sweetly content with drawing an angel down. It is not likely that thia head is an Aphrodite, 88 gonerally believed. Indced, its presence in Thessaly suggeats that it may have belonged to & statuo of Themis, the quoon of Thessalian ai- vinities. The hair is wrought with such wonder- fal grace s to matk the gazer fairly forgat the moterisl. A band of gold binds back rippling tresses, which else would fall about the face. The best of view is that of the three-quarter {ace, from the right side, which best brings out the sippling curves of the outline, and the soft and elastic masses of hair. Tho Daily News notes & comparatively new point in its description of the Castcllani head. “It is most notable,” says the writer, *that there is no exact symmetry in tho face. The right brow is a triflo lower than' theleft; the Tight nostril a little more elevated than the other.” Whether this is to be_attribated to higher artistic intelligence and knowledge of sbedow, or to the perception of dualism in the human face, which rescues beauty from incipidi- ty by a slight difference of outline between the sides, i8 & point that will probably never be de- termined, nnless somo_patient German evolves it from his inner consciousness ; but it is none the less an important step in artistic perception— the seeing of the beautiful. The Times has a critical'account of the Etrus- can coffin, which is worth quoting : The fioor is hollowed ovut, or rather marked, by s rafsed border which takes the general form of a human figare, It rests npon four claw feet project- gles, and terminating above in the f 5 winged siren. At the angles are pocalisziotos formed carvings, zopreseating the legs in rather stunted proportions, as seen in numberless instances on Groek vases, and zs found aculptured in the Macedonian tombs explored by Messrs. Daumet and Heazoy. Betwoen these e the walls of tho chity surmounted by a sort of cornice, adorned with pattern of upright blunted leaflets which formed so favorable a border in all works of Etruscan art. Above this border fita on the lid, itself forming s mattress, upon which recline, supported by pillows, two human Sguses, male snd female, The work ts 8 o ‘pang Zormm the walls of the Hst or coffn. . Upon panela is presented in relief what ssems to be one con- nected bistory, probably mythical. On the short panel at the foot are two warriors in panoply, their fertures showing grimly through their visored hel- mets, and who seem to_bo parting with their relatives and friends. The long panel in front exhibits the same pair of watrlors en in mortal combet; the one is already vanquished, and, sinking on one knee, endeavors to ward off the fatal fhrust which the victor is dealing with his lance, while the leg of the victim is turthermore assailed flercely by o lton. Figures on either side, most of them f utter shouts of tri- umph or despair. _To the extreme lett, the victorions wide, » small winged cresture beems to bo act ‘batants 8s in- terror. A small portion of the panel which contained one leg of this figure has been bat theacton, may bo gmessed at with tolerable cor’ tainty from similar figures on veryancient vase-pai mg-.t’—u, for inatance, in the Etrurian hydris figured by Gerhardt. Vass ef Conpes, Taf. XVL, where Po- Iyxens ia led forth to be eacrificed at the mound, and Whore the shade of the hero, as small-winged figure, fully axmed, is seen flitting rapidly through the air around his fomb, The upper end gives four sitting figures in opposing pairs, plunged In deep sorrow. The thrones upon which they it are of great fineness, and each pair {s covered by one loose mantle, a most ‘mark of mourning. The second long sids is occupied by a banguet scene, in which one who is presumably the victor is being served by various friends or atiendzits a8 he rociines upon his kline ina. hall sdorned with splendid forniture. All .these d peri short forms, exaggerated in the muacular development of the limbe, and almost caricatured in the pro; fostures and tha.small cranis. The action, though constrained, is muggested by nature, nd 1n Strenaiss ‘Tovement is fall of vebemmence.” T 1 Any comparison of the value of thia collection ‘with our own Di Cesnola would be out of place hero, evon were there sufficient matter for the work. The bronzo head described is undoubted- Iy ono of the finest (if not the finest) oxisting, ‘But of ifs goneral feafures it is fmpossible, even Ly catalogue, to speak deflnitely, "THE STORY 'OF RODGERS. From the Xew York Tridune. One of our family papers preachesa strong temperance sermon, by siiply telling the story of o woman who, after struggling with thio pre- tarnatural strength of & loving wife and mother for years againet the demon of drink that pos- seaped her husband, conquered it, and made him onge again a freeman. In hin last illness, brandy was proscribod, which he was strong ‘énough to usé only as a medicing ; but after his death ghe “turned to it in her grief, and diéd, not many months later, a hopeless, helpless dmnkard.” Let us tell a companion -story as truo as this but of as different & complexion s daylight to night. A few yearsago, on any sunny morning; aheap of filthy rigs inight be-seen stretched on some of the bales of ‘s paper- warehouso ina neighboring city, with a sirong. smell: of .stale tobacoo and whisky hanging about it. Turping it over (which you could do_as though it wero a log, any time after 10 o'clock in the morning), you wonld find the swollen purple face of: what had once been a handsome young man, but there was little hope that the_bicarod eyes or thiok tongue would give an intelligent answer. The porters passing by would push -him ‘agide, but not. roughly. The time had been when he Liad been s Jolly, gonerous young fellow, and a favorite in the office. **Young erg:” some ono would give you his history in five ‘minttes : “Taken fo rum—no _chanco—poor devil «Stokes " (the proprietor) * conld not turn him ont to starve, g0 still gave him s nominal salary and suffered him to Lang.about the house, lest lio should take to worse courses than drinking.” There were hints, t0o, of a widowed mothor, away off in the country, who had been depend- ent on him, and a swectheart, a protiy, clinging Little girl Botlyof whom long ago he fid aban- Qonéd. Bak thero was nothing to be done. The end, through the usual horrors of delirium tremens, was apparently not far off. One day, as Rodgers was creeping to the near- est bar jor his morning bitters, s man, whom ha barely knew by sight, took him by the elbow and walked with him_into & quieter street. “ They tell me you are Richard Rodgers’ son,” he said. * Dick Rodgers was the only friend I had for years, and for his sake I'd like to save Lis boy. Are you willing for me to try ?” ' Oh, Lou can try,” muttered the Iad with an imbecile ugh. This nameless friend, nothing daunted, took him to a chamber in his own house and put him to bed. There ha and his sons kept watch and guarded this poor wretch for months, like & prisoner, keeping liquor from him, and trying to supply it by madical treatmenf. A physician he employed, but he was not dble to psy for anurse. Any one who-bas had to deal with s victim of mania-a-potu.can guess how difficult and loathsome a task he had set himself. Ungrateful enough it was at first, for Rodgers struggled against his tormentors with the fero- city of—just what he was—a starving animal, As reason began to returnand his unnatarsl strength to vanish, he would beg them in his intervals of reason not to fail him, but o work out the ex- riment either to success or death. *‘Itis my E;t chance,” he would ery; “ for God's sake be patient.” This friend, with his son, did work it out through all the foul, unmentionsable dotails, and the end was not death, but success. *‘ How soon," asked a friend of Rodgers aftorwards, “were you trusted alone?” ‘“‘Not for two years,” ho answered, lsughing. “I was out of il, but in jail bounds. Do you remember that %, muscular young fellow who hsd & desk besidle me in the office? He took it with the condition that he could leave it to dog me ni;lm and d:g, to my meals snd to my bed. That was the son of the man who saved me. He was taken from a lucra- tive situation in order that he mllght bocome my ailer. God bloss him! How I'used to'curse im! ¢Cao't you trust my honor?” I would ery. . ‘Tm no convinced that your honor has not the consumption,’ the Beotch-Trishman would say. ‘We'll put no burdens on it until it has regained its health.’” . Your friend was s wealthy man, no doubt, and sosbleto giveboth time and money toyour cae?"’ ‘‘On the contrary, heis but the owner of a small hat store, and supports his family out of that. Heis rich or noble onlyin the deed and irit of friendship.” this was years ago. ydgers is now an industrious, honorable man, married to his old love, with' his gray-haired mother by his hearth, bringing to it the perpetu- al benediction of bonignant old age. His friend sells hats—makes no speeches nor bruit of any gort in theworld. - Nobody has recognized in him ahero. Yet, who for thesako of a dead or living friend would go and do likewise ? THE SUICIDE.’ Out in the night, with its driving sleet ; Out and alone in the dark, cold street ; Ont in the night, in the mist snd rair, With bursting sigh and with groan of pain, She along In her wild career. The night is dark and the river s nesr, Thostorm is wild, but she does not heed ; The angry wind cannot stay her For wilder far than the storm’s unrest . The swelling tempest that rends her breast. The bridge at last. AD! she pausea now, The rain still beats on her fevered brow. Her cheek s blanched ; and her long, dark balr Streama wildly back on tho chill night-air, eyes are unwet with tears, lio tho pant gricts of ' sears She Inats st with » dreazied gase ; No ray of light through the darkness strays— She looks below | The river is deep, And swiftly on ita dark waters swecp, Bhe gazes down with & grief-fraught sir; Her fingers play with her tangled hair, As from her brow ahe dashes away The gtah'ring drops of the stormy spray. Along the river, many a light Bhines dimly out on the murky night, Bright iomes there are whero those dim lights glow, And hearts untaught in the ways of woe, Who gaily chase the swift hoars along With thoughtless mirth and with merry song. ere, brothers, sisters, and lovers mect,— Ah1 what to them are the storm and sleet ? ‘At home, securo in the warmth and light, Al | what to them is the wretch's plignt Who, homeless, friendless, cold, and alone, Stands b there while the wild winds moan? Oh, God! in pity, some aid impart To'that sore-bruised, that poor, broken heart ! Oh! is there notin that g rain One soothing drop for her bosom’s pain? In Earth or Heaven is nothing nesr To bid her pauze in her mad carcer 1 AD, nol deserted by all, she's there; E'en Heaven frowns on her wild aespair, Well, lot it be. The last plunge is o'er! The river rolls ns it rolled before, The moaning winds loud around it roll The last sad dirge of the sinner's soul, Oh! blame her not; she was fair and frail, And pity weeps o'er her Life’s ssd tale. &ho sushod 16 death : but can mortal dare To sound the depths of God’s mercy there? A Cancasian Drinking Bout. The serious business of the feast appeared vn- Iy to begin when a good-sized cap was brought in and handed to the toolambatch, who ‘‘crown- ed it with wine"—it held nearly a bottle—and drank the pumper off to the health of the ladies, He then refilled it and passed it to his left-hand neighbor, by whom it was emptied and then re- turned to the toolambatch, to be again filled by him and passed to the second person on his left. and so on all round the company. The psalm- chanting had bacome by this time much less doleful, and if the time was mnot so good as at the commencement, and the general swing & trifle i it must be said that the whole effect was uom_invaly snd (mgpldtmi.’ In- deed, the repeated toasts were begi. ninz tell in many instances, and the ladies, who had be- baved most admirably, and had viewed the scene with & kindly interest, beiongten no doubt of habit, now rose to depart. Prince Mirsky, who by his position had tho privilege of exempting himself from the stringent Iaw which allows no man to quit the table 50 long as the toolambatch is_erect, accompanied them. One of his aides-de-camp, who knew what was comi wnfin mi od to sneak out unobserved, and d not found till just before we went away. The other remained, and hs‘,:ied on Lbl“ of himselt and the. two other strangors that they might be allowed to sit there merely as spectatora. The request, however, was politely, but firmly, refl until it was urged that two of nahad been, and still were, very unwell, The ples was accepted. Bat, alas, for my bad luck, no available excuso could be found for me,.and, to my horror, I saw myself, without hope of escape, let in for a carouse to which anything 1 had ‘hitherto witnessed was but & joke. s v'l'mgt now sacceeded tosst in guick succes- sion ; but all was done with & gravity and staid- ness befitting 0 important a proceeding: - The wine was of . the same -kind as st firs}, bu ity it ansthing, rather better, %:e qfi\?nu: "5t drinkin, gn' continued -as bofore, the toolambatch first filling the and g himself, and then refilling it for each ‘ome from left to'right. After two or tb.reoh ”mnnd.g out olbmm cgp, -soulumrof 8ome~ what larger size was brought, and thus 8- ively L) ‘Got on £o gobleta of most foratanie capacity. ¢ Vhat need to tell how the scene progreseed, what toasts were drunk, what victims consigned to forgotfulness? Suffice it thst onr mamlinere wera at length reduced to four, the toolambatch. mysolf, and two others, one the only remnant of the chorus, which had long ceesed to celebrate the toasts. leaving, I suspeet, the pealms un- finished. Was the end’ spproaching, and what was that end to be? I nsked mysolf with inergasing {;grrl?r whod 1 eaw brovght i a hoge bow), _wide-month deep-bot- tomed, and two-handled, into wn.ifi the tu}:lnnb betch with unfaltering hand emptied thres end a-half -boitles,- and then with much emphasis proposed to drink to tho health of the ** dead men.” With fascinated eyes I watched him as glowly, but.withont a psuse, he drained the moustrous cup, literally . “Fleno se proluit auro,” and longed that ho might bs numbered wite. those wEose health ho was drinking. Bat no, he finished, and holdirg the edgo on his themb- noil, showed that only tho ruby drop was left. Defections had left' mo immediately on his Tight, 0o that my trn came last. - The frston his 'left accomplished the task, though with many a “padse. ~ The next began well, ‘stopped, tried -again with faltaring nds, #gein, paused, once more tried. and. then, placing the cup on the table, sank smong the dead. ~ I was partially saved, for it was lew that when any one ‘succumbed in the act of drinking the person mext to him shonld finish what wasleft. My predecessor had eimost completed his task, 2od I mansged. to finisl it without accident. We threo remaining ones now sat_eyeing one another like gladiators in & Ting, and mensaring one another’s stzength and endurauce. A miin- ute or two elapsed, sod then tho toolambatch, to whom the cup had been returned, rose once more, and calling - for more wine, pro- posed to drink to the health of “the *living.” It was s dosperate emergexcy. To face again. the chance of hayi to swallow that swfal. magonum scemed ou: o the question, What was to be done—felgn de- feat, and fall among tho dead, and 8o avoid the imponding fate? 1 thought of the words Horace puts in the mouth of Vibidias. 4 Nos nisf dsmnose bibimus, moriemnr multi and then as the beginning of the following Line “ Et calices poscit majores " came mechanically to mind, s sudden thought seized mo. * What !” T exclaimed, starting up, . do you propose to drink to the victors out of the same cup ag to the vanguished ? Not so, I demand a larger one : * Capaciores sffer huc, puer, scyphos.” The toolsmbatch, though his face, when the moaning of this ontburst had been explained ta him, showed elight symptoms of astoniehment, lost'none of his equanimity, but turned to the servants and asked for a bigger cup. There was none. ‘ Never mind,” said, my classical nmemories now thoroughly aroused, * bring that here,” pointing to n Iarge earthen pitcher which had been used as a wino-cooler, and which masi have held over two ong, *we will drink out of that.” With one look of blankamazement at the proposed flagon, the toolambatch quietly de- clined the task, which would have falien o Lim first, of trying to empty it. ** Then,” 8aid I, “we drink no more.” Such was the law, and there was no appeal. My artifico had saccoad- ed, the toolambatch was no Socrates, and our symposium at once broke -up,—Macmillan's 2Magazine. Sacred Eirds. Extraordinary honors were paid to the goose in ancient times ; and it is still held in greai ven- erstion by some of ‘the Eastern nations, The figure that occurs_so frequently on Buddhist monuments is the Brshmanee goose. The an- cient Britons, according to Coear, held it impi- ousto eat the flesh of geeso. The ibis was snother bird held in the highest sanctity by the old Egyptians. There are etill numerous pits containing ibia mummies in that coantry. The Inzgest of them, a little to the westward of the yramid of Aboutir, is about twenty feet deep. o foor of this pit, for probably & depth of many feet, is covered with heaps on heaps, and Iayers on layors, of coarse earthen jars, tho h’trs cemented down, containing each the body of an ibis, preserved with bitumen, and inclosed 'with numerous folds of narrow cloth bandages. ¢ Some of the mummies are found.” says Lord Nugent, in his Lands Classical and Sacred, ** in & state of great preservation—black and charred. and incapable of being taken wholo out of ths bandages, but all the bones, tho beads, and al the feathers euntire. Whether these avimaiz were thus embalmed and brought to this place of burial whenever found d\mg, or whether col- lected hero only as objects of worship. is 3 question of which no ancient authority aseists in _the solution.” Dr. Shaw states that the Mahometcns have a great voneration and catcom for tle stork. It 18 almost assacred with them as the ibis was with the Egyptians ; and they would look upon 8 person a3’ profans who should kill or even harm one. 8o precious were theee birds held in Thossaly, which country thoy are said to havo cleared of serponts, that the slayer of a stork waa punished with death, They were thought much of at Rome, for when a percon from a freak of luxury, ordered one to be plscedl oo his dinner-table, he drew upon himself the direful obloquy of the whole city. The robin is considered in several count-ies a sacred bird ; to kill one is little less than soe- riloge ; and its eggs are free from the hand of the bird-nester. 1t is asserted that the respect shown to it by man is joined in by the animalz of the wood. “The weasel and wild-cat, it is said, will peither molest it nor eatit whenkilled. One cause for the veneration in which it is held may be the s ition which represents it as the medium ugh which mankind are warned of lpprmu:h.ixxgb death. Before tho decease of a person, & robin is believed, in many instauces, totap thrice st the window:of the room in which the sick person is lying. Grimm &&ys that the peculiar veneration with which this bird is treated has been shown by the whole German race from remote times ; and he refers to the bird's color and its name as_evidences that it was sacred to Thor, the God of light- ning. A Tia swallow, too, in Germany, is deemed & sa~ cred bird. Like thestork, it preserves the house on which it builds ita nest from fire and light- ning. The Spanish peasants have a tradition that it was s ewallow that tried to pluck the thorns ont of the crown of Christ as he hung upon the cross ; hence they have a greal rever- ence for this bird, and will never destroy it. In France, in the Pays de Cauz, the wren is a sacred bird. o kill it, or robits nest, isdeemed ity which will bring down the lightning lprit's dwelling. Such an act was also on the regarded with horror in Scotland. Robert Cun- ningham mentions the following popular male- diction upon those who rob the nest of the wren: 3falisons, malisons, mair than ten. That harry the lodge of Heaven’s heu? —Belgravia. Useo of the Eustachian Tnbe. The chiof use of the Enstachian tube ia to allow a f:e0 interchange of air between the car and the tucoat, and thin is exceedingly impor- tant; and it i8 very important also that its use in this respect should underatood, Persons who go down in diving-bells soon begin to feal & groat pressure i the ears, and, if the depth ia greu,t 0 feeling becomes extremely painful. hig arises from tho fact that in the diving-bell the pressure of the.air is very much increased, in order to balance ihe weL&m of the water above; and thus it presses with great force u the membrane of the drum, which, if the Eus- tachian tube has been kept closed, has only the ordinary uncompressed air on tho inner side to sustain {t. It is therefore forced inward and put mn the stretch, and might be_even .broken. 1y cases, indeed, have occurred of injury to tho ear, producing permsnent deafness, fromr descents in d.iringm undertaken by persons ignorant of the way in which the ear is meode; ough the simple precaution of frequent swal- lowing suffices to ward off all mischief. For, if the Eustachian tube is thus opened, again and again, as the pressure of the outside air in- creases, the same compressed air that exists ontside passes also into the insids of the drum, and the membrane is equally prezsed upon from Doth sides by the air, snd 80 is free from strain. The same procsution is necessary in ascending mountains that are lofty, for then there is the same effect of stretching produced upon the membrane, though in .the opposite way. The outeide air becoming less and less candensed ag a greator height is gained, the ordinary air con- tafned within the drum presses. upon the mem- brane, which is thus insufficiently sfipported on tho outside, and a similar feeling of weight and stretching 18 produced. The conjurer’s rick of breaking avaso by a word rests on the same principle. The air is exhansted from within, and the thin, though massive looking sides of the vase collspse by the pressars of the air ont-, side ; and, just as ever so small a hole, made at the right moment in the side of the vase, wonld prevent the whols effact, so does swallowing, which makes s little holo, as- it were, for tho moment in the drum of the ear, prevent the in- essing or ont-pressing of the membrane. 3Mr, in his interesting book ** On Sound,” how he employed this precaution of with entire success, when, in gsure o — Popula) tells us swallowing, and one of his mountain excursions, the his ears became soverely painf Science Monthly,