The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 26, 1897, Page 18

18 TIIE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUN Y, SEPTEMBER 26, 1897 DUSKY BEAUTY OF A TROPIC ISLE. The first time I met her 1 murmured, “She walks in beauty like ihe n--"" and there I stopped, fearing to be thought too original. But it was undoublediv her k that attracted my notic 0h, ye corseted high-heelea daughters of white man! What would ye not give for be rait of your untrammeled, bare- footed, sun-kissed sistersof the tropics! What calisthenic teacher can bestow upon you the swing of lissome hip, the poise of erect heac undulating motion sug zestive of ease and strength—old nature’s ¢ifts to her unfettered children? there comfort even for you, victims to civ- ilization. Know this, that mode hath more influence on motion monly allowed, and graceful Mademoi- seli¢ of Samoa,.if put into your fetters, wili shuffie and shoulder and jerk herself along, cutting even a more deplorable fig- ure thaa yourselves. Whereas, an’ ye willed to don her attire, perchance— once more I stop. White in Samoan classical costume. “She” was by no means overdressed on | this occasion, and it never struck my civilized ignorance that she might be a Per-onage, for was she not meekly help- ing her companions to carry the family wash to the river? How was I to guess tnat the companions were attendants and that the family wash representsa pleasing dnty which even a Princess Royal does not disdain? An old plaid shawi, wound tightly round ber loins and fringing her ankles, formed the lava-lava—the nationat skirt common to both sexes. Round her neck was flung a long, narrow strip of black material. In her black hairgleamed a red hibiscus. That wasall, that and the singular stateliness of her walk, siriking even in aland where grace seems innate. Not the grace of Atalanta—the Samoan woman who would bestir herself to runa race has vet to be born—but a magnificent Yetis | than is com- | 1 don’t quite see Miss | ignity lying her guard of women. This time it dawned on me to inquire who Pharaoh’s daughter was, and lo she | was in trath priestess, though but priestess of darn ana song. Daughter to one of the highest chiefs in the land, with an unrivaled repuiation for beauty, she held the proud position of “taupo,”” or Village Virgin, only fillea by those who combine birth with behavior. avior, according to a villags a very formal affair in- no fun and very litile a { no dwawndling and gossiping on the sunny high but only 7 staid constitutional | naed as discreelly as any French school- girl. No indiscriminate visiting, little in- discriminate receiving. Instead, a grave duties as are not reckoned incompatible with the exalted po-ition. Small wonder if a taupo holds her head | bigh and plants her soft broad feet with a proud consciousness, fully aware of the | difference between herse!f and that com- mon race who ugh and sing and flaunt along the road. A few days spent | Bamoa and you cau tell a taupo at a glanee, can tell her even without her sat- ellites. She has the seal of those who are “'set apart.” She walks with a grand air of fearless trus', knowing that wherever she goes she slaims deference and that in- | sult offered to her is sacrilege. | From our cottage in her father's com- pound I can ses her going about her daily tasks with leisurely step and unruffiad | mien. Our chief's home boasts some of tne complications of civilized life; there is morninz tea to be discussed, and tea must be drunk in the white man’s fash- jon, out of cups with saucers; a weather- board house 1s required wherein to safely [ store the cups and other treacures, and or a trip 1o the river, guarded and duen- | and censtant attention to such domestic | in | grace recalling the land of the Sphinx, the | this must be swept with a European sleepy grandeur of a priestess of Isis. | broom; all this unwonted minutie fails | Next time we met I was wandering | to the care, not of attendants, but of the | along the high road that borders.the blue | daughter of the house, who sets out tea | waters of the lagoon. Mauve convolvulus | twined about my feet, spreading umbrelia trees invited to rest, red and yellow “faun” blossoms scattered on the dusty road; broad-leaved breadfruit, dense candlenut, like flowering white lilac, lance-leaved mangoes made shade overhead: straight palms shot up their quivering gold-green crests, sprang a figure out of one of Alma Tadema’s paintings—a straighf, well-de- veloped, bronze fizure; a blue, sprigged lava-lav; ner feet; a black silk scarf, heavily fringed, concezled her bust; a blue ostrich feather was twined in her wavy, flowing hair. It was Pharaon’s daughter, going, with due dignity, for a bathe in the river. Behind, at a respectful distance, walked the guard of honor—elderly, wizened females, 1n somewhat dingy lava-lavas and necklaces of green banana-leaf. In response to her gentle ‘‘Talofa’” 1 turzed to watch her as she swung over the ground, head and hip well thrown back, eyes downcast, looking neither to the right or the left. Suddenly I noted a backward glance, an imperceptibie motion of the head, and the guard instantly drew close to her. She had become aware of the anproach of a white man, who might possibly not be aware of the respect due to her rank. It behooved her to assert her Into this framework suddenly | rose- | wound spirally, fell to | hut, beautifully arched and thatched, | daughter is no longer a taupo, her poetry on the veranda floor, sweeps up crumbs | | after the family have squatted and fed, | rinses cups at the well with the same dig- ;| niiy which invests an eldest daughter at home when intrusted with storercom keys. Then the household lamps have 1o | | be cleanea, carefully end languidly while | reclining in a picturesque pose on the | veranda —no Samoan woman ever| | stands when she can sit. But the natural | | life of the chief’s daughter is spent in the real family dwelling-house, the large, oval | open to the breeze while keeping out tbe | esun, suggesting a luxurious arbor for | | atternoon tea-drinking. Here clean mats, shaken at daybreak | and aired in the morning sunshine, are laid on a smooth, pebbly fioor, which is | | daily swept; here, a la turque, on her mat, | sits the taupo, her ironing-board or her | | sewing-machine before her, deftly wield- | ing her box iron, or running up the seams | | of oneof her mother's innumerable gandy | print gowns. And from here, on the im- | portant washing day, she emerges, like the | maid of blackbird fame, to hang out the | clothes. Modest and unconscious as the most severely draped Quakeress she shows her beautiful bust in the sunlight, ghsien- | ing with cocoanut oil, and decked out, perchance, with a necilace of chili berries |and strong-scented leaves. As for her i gance on her native dignity. | lava on these occasions it is apt to vary. One dzy I rubbed my eyes, descrying a favorite tablecloth with colored embroid- | ery, which was gracing mot the clothes- | iine but our beautiful taupo’s limbs. Had ; she washed 11? What did she want to do | with ii? A minute later I was informed | Mademoiselle was drying my tablecloth | her own fashion, but, a woollen shawl | baving caught her farcy, she had, with a | sudden switch and twirl, substituted the ! shawl and hune the clo:h on the line, To | a priestess ali vagaries are permissible. Ske is always ready with a radiant | smile or helpful word when Irun across | 10 her in some trade-and-barter aifficulty, | but language impediments prevent me | from holding the key to her thoughts as { she plies her busy hands. When the heat of noontide becomes overpowering she pushes her work aside, stretches her | straight limbs on the mar, places her | shapely head on a bard bamboo pillow | and sleeps through the blaze of the after- | noon. If the family oven has been lizhted or an influx of visitors causes extra feast- ing, she is sent across to us with a dainty offering—roast fish, iaro, smoking bread- iruit or some delicate cocoanut prepara- tion, all temptingly laid on fresh banana leaf over a mat tray; or she comes, a dusky Hebe, the kava-filled cocoanut bowl dertly poised in her raised band, to offer us the national drink. | Y¥or the Samocans are nothing if not hospitable, and we are family guests de- spite the fact that we pay rent. Guests vnder the chief’s patriarchal care and ac- cepted as such by his numerous retinue, who are quite willing to cheat any one outside the family, but who guard us and our possessions with affectionate solici- tude. When the shadows fall I can ree Hebe stand up, 4 classic figure in the smolder- ing, central firelight, to light the lamp banging from the oval-domed roof. Then | the entire household squat in a circle round the hut and chant the evening hymn, the men’s rich bass blending with the women's shrill trebles. Later on, in the moonlight, when there is no fear of disturbing our evening meal, the taupo will glide in noiseiessly and shyly for her daily visit; unattended despite the male element in our home, for is she not as sa- cred to us, admitted into the tamily, as to her own people? She will rest 1n an easy- chair as naturally as if she had been born to a drawing-room, accept a cigarette and | give us lessons in the pure pronunciation of her musical language. There are class | aistinctions of speech in Samoa as else- | wtere, and the taupo’s liquid accent and | cadenced intonation differ as much from the noisy gutturals of the Apia hawker as my lady’s utterance differs from that of Jane of Billingsgate. Or perchance we may bring out s pic- ture-book which our visitor will turn over with curious finger, and then it is thatthe “eternal feminine” peeps out, for she passes over lanascapes as uninteresting and love scenes as perplexing; but a fash- ion-plate attracts her at once and an his- torical personage, stiffly draped in regal robes, elicits a ery of delight. As for the nude, that shocks her past words. Sheis too polite 1o put ber feelings strongly, but how any one can dispense with a lava- lava 2nd not win condemnation is a deep problem to this maiden, whose attire wouid scandalize severe white matrons. Then she will leave us, with her soft *'I | mo now,” and her simple day is ended—a model copybook sort of day which would drive an American belle to despair. But when the Siva comes cif then the priestess reaps the reward of her diecre- | tion. Then it is that hours are spent in | arraying her for the festival till she emerges from cuunning hands, a marvel- ous edifice of black siapo and colored fiber ribbons, of berry and ieaf and flower, of necklet and armlet, the whole surmounted | by a colossal, mirror-decked wig. Thus arrayed she stands ferth from ali the com- moner rankes, a taupo among taupos, pre- pared to exercise that grace of limb for which she is renowned. Another festival will dawn for her some day, tue last in which she will take prom- inent part. And after that she will step down from her pedestal and jomn the troop of nobly born matrons. For the taupo, like the canoness, is not bound to perpetual celibacy, and if that exceedingly astute dignitary, her tather, finds a suitor with the sufficient number of dollars or pigs, wedding festivities on an extensive scale may be expected. And alas! on the day when the chiel’s will be gone with her priesthood. True, if she marry a white man, her innate refine- ment coupled with his training may teach heradaptability. She may learn to clothe nerself more or less grac fully in civilized garments, she may graft civilized ele- Whaether she thereby add to her happiness is a doubtful auestion. Bat if sne marry one of her own race and rank, the chances are that she will lose her own busy, graceful, household ways, adopt the shapeless dress and the gaudy hat, lie about, wax fat, unwieldy and careless of appearances. For it is against Samoan etiquette to follow the advice of the oid French woman: “You dressed to win your hus- band, dress to keep him." A. R. Rose-SoLEY. STORY OF CARLOTTA The BeatExIWoman Whom Death Seems About to Claim. Many things are forgoiten in thirty years and 1t is not surprising that when the approaching death of the ex-Empress Carlotta wes announced, the other day, people should have asked each other— “Who is Carlotta?’ Yet the answer to that question is that Carlotta’s lile has been one of the most romantic pagesin a thrilling and romantic drama of our own day. A young girl of 17, pleasing rather than beautiful, with a reticent "di-position which expanded under the influence of love, Carlotta, or Charlotte, as she. was ihen called, the orly daughter of King Leopold of Belginm, appeared at the'Eag- lish courtin 1857 to introduce Ler fiance, the Archduke Maximilian of Austria, to her father’s friend, Queen Vicloria.. The young couple won all English hearts. Prince Albort wrote: ‘‘Charlotte’s whole being seems to have heen warmed and un- folded by the love tbat has been kindied i her heart. She appears to be happy and devoted to her futurc husband with her whole soul.” And the Queen addressed King Leopold: “The Archduke is charming—clever, kind, natural, amiable and pleasant. I wish you really joy, dearest uncle, at baving got such a husband for dear Charlotte,” | They were married at Windsor, and went to live at Miramrr in Austria, in | a Swiss chalet, covered with vines and honeysuckle, in full view of the Adratic. The honeymoon Jasted seven years. But it was their destiny to be entangled in the infamous intrigues which marked the ciose of the Second Empirein France. The Empress Eugenie, thirsting for power, gave ear to the appeals of the Mexican | prelates who wanted the Government of Mexico overthrown in order to recover | their confiscated es'ates. The Duke de Morny saw in French intervention in | Mexico an opportunity of realizing mill- |lons through the purchase of French | claims en the discredited republic. The only one who was honestand clear-headed was the Emperor himself. **Why should 1, asked he, “‘go to war with Meéxico? Un- Ger preiense of recovering a trifling debt, should I pick a quarrel and involve my country and my soldiers in an inglorious | ana profitless enterprise?’ But nis wile | ana bis brotaer were 100 strong for him. He acquiesced in his wife's selection of Maximilian as -the future Empsror of | Mexico; ‘the gentle Archduke réluctantly | couseuted, and on April 13, 1864, at the | | darkest hour of our civil war, tue coming Emyeror with his wife-Carlotta took ship at Trieste for “his new dominions, Both were firmly persuaded that they were the choice of the Mexican people. In fact, no one, absolutely no one, came to meet them when they landed at Vera | Cruz, and Maximilian, with a French es- cort, drove to the City of Mexico in n shabby English barouche. He found everything in confusion. Nothing in this country,” said a Mexican gentlcman, “4s organized but robbery.”” He wasover= whelmed by disappointments. Carlotts served him indefatigably. She wrote his letters. She received his visitors. Tall, dignified and stately, she was an ideal Empress. Her voice recalled storfes of Isabella, the Catholic. She sat by her busband's side during the long, weary mooths he spent in endeavoring to create order out of chavs. And then like a thunderbolt: came the news of the collapse of the Southern Confederacy. There was a short com- munication from the American Minister at Paris to the Emperor Napoleon. Gen- eral Sherman received orders to concen- trate a force of 50,000 men on the Rio Grande, and General Bazaine, in Mex- ico, was ordered to re-embark his army forthwith and leave Maximilian to his faie. Tzis was death. Swift, bold, resoluie Carlotta droye to Vera Cruz aad took passage on the French steamer to demand of Napoieon that he keep his word to Maximilian, and support bim with French baycnets, She fouud the court at St. Cloud. Napoleon was sympatietic, but non-commiital. At the close of alongin- terview, in presence of the whole court, Carlotta feil back fainting. The Emperor bronght her a glass of water. “Take it away,’” she screamed, “Don’t you see that he wants to poison me?"” This was the beginning of the long malady. She was removed, and by soothing treatment recovered her senses and claimed a second interview, which was reluctantly granted. She wasted notime in preliminaries, but burst out: “Your Majesty know% the cruel fate which has overtaken my husband. May I hope that your Msjesty will grant him the support you promised?” SNAKE DANCE OF THE MOQUIS CAUGHT BY" A CAMERA # ® * Ataqblast from the horn of the chief priest, the priests, one after an other, thrust their bare hands and arms invo the kisi, and draw out indiscriminately two or three wriggling and squirming snakes. The serpents are snatched eagerly by | each of the antelope men and the snake dancs begins. The antelope men and the priests sing a wild, piercing song, while the tomtoms beat ficrcer and faster. Each of tne antelope men beats three and sometimes six rattlesnakes whoile he dances about the plaza. In a moment the little plaza of hard, sunburned earth becomes a scene of yeli- ing, dancing and hideously painted savages, while rattlesnakes that are carelessly let fall wriggie and squirm across the earth in their vain efforts to escape. The snake priests keep sharp eyes on the serpents and permit none to get away from the hands of the wild and excited antelope men. The serpents weave their rat- tles and twist convulsively in the hards and even the mouths of the antelope men. ‘When they fall to the ground they coil in an instant and very often strike their fangs deep into the naked legs and feet of the excited, dancing Mokis. One dapcer carries a | venomous snake in each hand and has two more tucked in a belt at his waist, while he holds two squirming and rattling snakes between his teeth. Over there is a lusty young Moki who has never been an antelope man before and he is gyrating about the | plaza with a serpent about his neck and holding several snakes over four feet long in each hand. Alittle old Moki, who bas evidently participated in many snake dances from his early manhood, and meuns to silence dispute as to his prowess, is practically naked and is apparently mad with excitement. He carries a very large rattlesnake in his mouth and lets the tail trai! on the ground while he hops about. The reptile is fully six feet long and as large around as a boy’s erm. It is of the bullsnake species, the most deadly reptile in America. Its fangs are thrust far out toward the face cf an Indian, who has at least six serpents dangling from his brown hands and coiled about his wrist~. As the performance goes on one sees snakes engaged in fierce com- bat upon the stone surfacs of the court. Some of them dart here and there 1n a frantic effort to escape from the frenzied | dancers, and when thev find the way cut off by the edge of Indian and white specta- | tors at the edge of the cliff they quickly coil and make ready to spring. Buta Moki i is there with his whip, and soon they again form part of the mad exercises. When | the snakes fight among themselves the Moki spectators regard their actions with superstitious terror, and the red-skinned spectatorslook on with thumping hearts. Louder and louder swells the wild delirious chorus. Itis lLike the thunder of an impending storm. The oid snake priest Honi swings his charm, and suddenly, amid the uproar, the dancers break and rush in pairs toward the kisi, Hands are quickly thrust into that squirming mass of serpents. The white spectators are catehing their breaths at the awful sight, but they are 10 see much more yet. One Indian of each puir grasps as many snakes ss he can conveniently carry. He immediately places a | twisting, angry reptile between his teeth. The head extends at least a quarter the length of the body from the face of the Indian. The spectator sees the horrid thing dart its tongue in an angry kiss, as the lower part of the body writhes helplessly in the grasp of the riing red man, In his ex- citement he throws himself on the ground, and to show his indifference to the ser- pents’ venom he piles the serpents in a tangled, writhing heap upon his chest.. Then i he springs to his feet, and throwing all but one ot the serpents upon tha ground, he twists the remaining one about his neck as one would acravat. The snake youths, who brought the bowls of the anti-venom decoction from the kiva, are flying about with ‘feathered sticks in their hands, gathering the wriggling and ratiling snakes from the earth. The boys tickle the reptiies with the feathers, and when the snake is stretched prone and uncoiled 0 it cannot strike and fang the lad dexterously snatches it behind the head and hands it to an antelope man or a snake priest for further performance with it. The dance continues about fiity minutes. While it is progressing the Moki women sing songs in harmony with those of the snake priests, and occasionally throw small handfuls of sacred cornmeal upon a serpent that has failea to the earth nearby. As the dance continues the din of voices becomes more discordant and indescribable, There can be nothing quite like this elsewhere., The dancers reel and stagger at the last from their violent exertion and excitetaent. They are running with perspiration, and their flesh paints have melted and trickle down their bodics in tiny streams. At last a signal is given on the tomtom, and tine dancers cease their gyrations and whirlings, and, with their writhing serpents in their hands, they march past the snake priests, who throw sacred meal on the reptiles. Another beat on the tomtom and the men starton a rundown the precipitous, rocky path to the sandy plains below. There the perspiring, panting Indians stop, and, with the writhing snakes still in the kneel and utter a short prayer that these messengers may carry to the god- of the mountains the information that the Mokis have this day shown their rey- erence for the water god, and that they ask that rain may soon come uvon their lands. Then the serpents are cet free upon the desert, and the Indians come running back as best they may after their tremendous physical exertion to the plaza. They are led into the stone subterranean kiva for a lew minutes of silent worship, while the whole Moki population and the paleface visitors stand about outside. Presen tly the braves emerge from the kiva, and then follows a scene as ludicrous as the previous scenes have been thrilling and awful. The great, strapping Indians, in their horrid paint, range them-elves in two long lines aiong the low stone wall at the north of the pueblo of Walpi, and are given bowls of some decoction by the young Mok: women. The effect of this flu'd would give points to a stomach pump. Not one of the braves speaks a word. They go about this part of the proceed- ings with the most solemn faces imaginable. When this is over, the young Moki women—the wives and daughters of the dancers—bring cold water for the men to drink, and in the presence of the hundreds of onlooking Mokis, and the many curious palefaces, the women wash the pain¢ and perspiration from the bodies of the men. Those who have been bitten by the rattlesnakes have their wounds bathed and are es- corted home by their friends, subjects of solicitous care throughout both the Moki puebics. There is seldom 2 fatal result from snake poisoning there. & After a moment’s silence Napoleon an- swered : | “My action in Mexico, madame, is at an end, and Icannot renew it. | clined to do so, my Government and the | Chambers would not assent.”” “You are Emperor, sire.” “I am Emperor, madame, and my com- mands are respected and obeyed when they are in harmony with the glory and interests of France, but I will not use my power as Eymperor to plunge myv country | into imminent danger from an intermin- able war from which France could gain | nothine.” | “A short time ago, sire, youspoke differ- ently.” “A short time ago, hopes.” “Hopes?’ “Hopes that Maximilian would avail himself of the assistance I gave him and | win the love of his peopie; that he wouid | learn to understand their needs and their natures and be abte to carry on by him- self the work which we began together.”’ “And now?" “Now I have no longer those hopes.” The Emprass Carlotta rose and paced the room holding her hand to her fore- head and muitering, “This is terrible, ter- rible.” ‘Then she seated herself, and in supplicating voice: “Sire,” she pursued, “it is said thatyou are kind, that your heart is touched by those whno ere in misfortune. My hus- band and I are the victims of misfortune. Have pity upon him and upon me. Iim- plore you, sire, give us your supvort and our hearts will love and bless vou.” And she seized the Emperor’s hand and kissed it. He bent over her and touchea her fin- | gers with his lips. “You speak, madame,”” hs said in a voice full of compassion,” “‘as though your husband was in danger. 1t lies with im to escape the danger. Let him re- treat with mv troops, and leave behind him the dream of an empire. It was an unfortunate dream.” “‘What! sire,”’ cried Cariotta, drawing herself up to her full heigbt, and with pride flashing from her eyes, “‘vou coun- sel my husband to fly, to commit an act of cowardice and of dishonor?”’ “A general, madame, is guilty of neither coward ce nordishonor when, after having lost a battle, he capitulates. Is not the Emperor Maximilian in the position of a | deieated general? Let him actassuch a seneral would. Fine phrases have little sense or utility, You are suffering, mad- ame, You are uLstrung. 1 pray you to calm yourself,'”” & *“Never,” she answered, in an absent tone, as though her soul was far away; ‘“never will Maximilian accept vour pro- posals. He will never try to escape nor turn his back 1o the faithiul Mexicans who have surrounded his throne. He will die, if necessary, for the cause which he has espoused, and I will die with hin.” Y1 beg you, madame,” retorted the Em- peror, more coldly, “to examine the ar- guments whic: I have laid before you, and the advice which I have given you. The Emperor Maximiliun's. future and your own depend on your doing so.”” Carlotta was not listening to him. Her Were I 1in-| madame, I had beart was with the man she loved, away across the sea. She murmured: *‘He will die, he will aie, and I will die with bim. I They will put us into the same tomb. We | shall lie there together, and we shall love | each other. Ob! we shalllove each other still, despite the cruelty of man. We shall | be exalted, and tbe future will sing our | glory.” It flashed upon the Emperor that the fit | of mental aberration which had occurred | at St. Cloud was about to return, and, | seizing Carlotta’s arm, he genily placed | her in a chair. She did not look at him; | she probably did not recognize him. After a moment she troke cut: ‘“‘Ah! you are the Emperor Napoleon | 111, that ali-poweriul Emperor who raised my husband to the throne, and I am a wretched woman, imploring mercy for a victim you have condemned.” After a vause she continued: “Ycu have made your final decision? You leave us to our own resources, with no hope of assistance from you?”’ Resolute in her purpose, Carlotta sought the intervention of the Pope, though her attacks of mental disturbauce began to return periodically. The Holy Father re- ceived her while he was at breakfast. She snatched the cup of chocolate out of his hands, and drank it, exclaiming, “At any rate, this cannot be poisoned.” Then they took her to Miramar, where she had spent sc many happy years with bier husband, and it was there she heard of his execution. She would not believe it. She used to wander to the country vil- lages and mingle with the pessants, who idolized her, and who used to kneel in the road when she passed. Like herself, the simple Dalmaiians refused to telieve in Maximilian’s death. They would accost the widow with cheerful cries: *“He will return. Never fear, sweet lady.” At last her maiady increased in severity to such a degree that her family insisted on having her under their own eve in Belgium. She was removed to an elegant residence her father provided for her, and there, surrounded by doctors and nurses, she has lived for over thirty-five years. She has tucid intervals, during which, io relieve her restlessness, she has iraveled mcognito from place to place—in France, Belgium and Germany; but strange scenes are apt to bring back a return of the disease, and then she hasto be con- veyed to her home in haste. Of the precious relics of ber imperial days one rests in a silken bag over her Leart, and never in her most cruel attacks | does the poor maniac forget how dear it is to her. It is the letter which Maxi- milian wrote her the day before his execu- tion, when he knew of the infirmity which had befallen her. It runs: “My Beloved Carlotta: 1f God should permit you one of these days to get well enough to regd these lines you will know now sad has been my fate since your departure. You took with you my happiness, my very life, and my goo2 fortune. Why dia I not take your ad- vice? So many sad things have taken place, so many unexpected catas- trophes and undisturbed misfortunes | | have fallen on me that I have now lost heart and hope, and % x| look upon death as my good angel. 1f you cannot, dearest, bear up under your load of sorrow, if God in Lis mercy soon reunites us by vour death, I will bless his fatherly hand, which now seems very beavy upon me. Adien! Adieun! EXPOUNDS MYSTIC CULTS. Mme. Florence Montague is a lady who has resided in Oakland for about seven years, and who because of her psychical or abnormal intellectual development has for the past two years been the lecturer for the Oakland Psychical Socie:y. On taking her s:aton the platform during the sing ing of her favorite hymn, ‘“ Nearer, My God, to Thee,”” Mme. Montague by a few passes with her hands over her head puts herself in the first stage of hypnosis. At the close of the hymn she rises to her feet, and is apparently in a normal conditlon except a slight cfiange in her appearance. She ien delivers her adcress. Though_ her lectures are often on philosophy and on science they are generally on some ethical subject, always enjoining purity of lifs, kindness “and good will toward all as the best seed to sow here if we would reap a rich harvest in the won- derful hereafter. Her moral teachings are drawn almost entirely from the Sermon on the Mount and other precepts of the man of Nazareth, whom sh: regards as the greatest philosopher and tzacher that has ever lived. Though a French lady Mme. Montague has a fine command of the English lan- guage, and.she knows how to use it in the most artistic manner. Her addresses are given with so much force and vigor, and yet so smoothly and gracefully, that a stranger would believe that she must have thoroughly prepared and memorized them, and studied her part well. , She, however, assured the reporter that \yvhile she kn;ws for a short time what the subject of her address will be, she does not allow herself to make the s ightest preparation for it, but keeps her brain perfectly passive with reference to it, so that it will be ready to receive whatever thoughts may be given to it. X Stl:ong if not positive proof that her statement is true that she makes no prepa- ration for her lectures is shown in her ability to answer instantly written questions pmlpoun\kd by the audience and read to her while on the platform during her hyp- nouic state. Each one in the audiznce desiring to ask a question writes it on a small “Your Poor Max.” ballot. The notes after being collected are read to her by the president of the society, and each one is answered instantly.