by the sleeve. The pallor of death was in her | around the corner Barbary Coast was still face. The clutch of death was in her fingers. Her white garments hung about her like a shroud, and her luminous eyes burned with an unearthly light. "For the love of God, sir, do not let my children starve. If you hope for mercy-oh, my poor children!—do not—" The exertion was too much. She staggered, and fell to the floor. The old man, with some effort, lifted her upon the bed. He chafed her hands nervously for a few moments. He spoke to her, but she did not answer. At last he saw that she lay very still, that the nostrils did not appear to move. Her eyes had a glassy look, and the children, who had huddled together frightened, began to cry. And well they might, for outside was the merciless world, and here, in this silent room, was merciless Death. ablaze, though the boys were no longer seen on the sidewalks. Men were drinking deeply and sullenly now. Now and then a drunken man staggered by on his way home. Now and then a noise from some saloon told of a brawl over the dice or cards. Farther up the street a man had been killed in a quarrel over a disputed game. On the hills above the lights were dying out of the windows. In a few homes they still shone on happy faces, and on fair forms that moved in the graceful dance. It was only a few blocks from this-to this. It is only a step from wealth to poverty, from virtue to crime, from innocence to shame. The echoes of the cathedral clock had scarcely died upon the midnight air when a carriage drew up in front of the tenement house. Two ladies and a gentleman alighted, and the three tation, opened the door facing the staircase. The children were still sleeping. "Poor things," said one of the ladies, "what would have become of them!" The little boy dropped something from his passed up the narrow stairs. At the third hand. It fell at the feet of the miser, who pick-flight they stopped, and, after a moment's hesied it up and looked at it, then took it to the light, and held it there some time. It was a small locket, and contained the picture of a young girl apparently about eighteen years of age. The locket was gold. It had a small chain, long enough to go about the neck, also gold. He examined both chain and locket closely, then put them upon the table. He picked up his hat, and moved toward the door. He hesitated at the threshold, tame back, put the locket and chain in his pocket, and went out, closing the door behind him. Who can tell his thoughts as he shuffled, muttering to himself, down the rickety stairs and into the narrow street? Was it not enough to lose his money? What right had a woman to die and leave her children for others to feed? It was not to be tolerated. Other women would be doing the same thing. People must pay their honest debts, and support their children. Little they would care for Old Hunks if he were to die! What if he did have a little moneythere wasn't so much after all-but what of it? Didn't he get it honestly? Didn't he pay his debts-that was the question-did he ever die and leave both debts and children behind? Whatever Old Hunks's thoughts may have been, he went slowly down the stairs and out into the night. And the helpless children were left alone with their dead-so helpless that they thought it was sleep, so innocent that they fondled her dead face and wondered why she answered not, and so tired with their sobbing that they finally crept up beside her and went to sleep upon her bosom. Two hours passed, and still they slept. The clock on St. Mary's tolled the hour of midnight. The narrow street grew quiet, but Carefully lifting them one by one, still sleeping, the gentleman carried them down stairs and handed them tenderly to some person in the carriage. He then returned up stairs, and the carriage drove rapidly away. Pacific Street awoke sluggishly the next day. On the side-street few were stirring early in the morning. The fumes of Chrismas Eve still polluted the pure morning air of Christmas Day. Mrs. Dennis Regan, who had rooms on the third floor of the tenement house, having heard unusual noises in the next apartment during the night, peered out of her room about eight o'clock. The door opposite was open, and she saw three persons, two ladies and a gentlemen, watching there. "The sick woman's dead," she said to herself, "and her rich friends have come to watch wid her. It wouldn't have hurt 'em to have looked afther her a bit when she needed it more than she does now, poor sowl." The news of the death, and the interest taken by the "rich friends," soon flew through the street, which straightway began to be mollified in its usual bitter feelings toward well to do people. But at ten o'clock an event occurred which roused the popular indignation to the highest pitch. The undertaker arrived, accompanied by a man muffled in a great coat, under whose directions the body was soon taken away. But Mrs. Dennis Regan, happening to come up the narrow stairs as the muffled man, who seemed desirous of avoiding observation, was going down, recognized him as the much detested miser, “Old Hunks." The theory of the "rich friends" was immediately abandoned by the street. "The old skinflint, bad cess to him," abjured Mrs. Dennis Regan, "has garnisheed the dead woman for the rint." "The Lord save them pore childers!" shuddered her neighbor, as she listened with breathless interest to the story of the miser's heartless action. "To think of me takin' that deperty sheriff fer a gintleman, and them two brazen-faced things fer ladies," exclaimed Mrs. Regan. That Christmas afternoon, Old Hunks climbed up to his little room on the fourth floor of one of his own buildings-a room for which no one would pay rent, and which he had accordingly occupied for many years. Do you know what manner of place a miser's home is? It is'nt a very inviting spot, to be sure. It has a barren and desolate look, like the life of the miser himself. But some how or other, the old man had become attached to this room through all the years that he had lived there. They were weary years as he looked back on them; years rich in gold, but oh, how poor in human sympathy and companionship! There was little pleasure that he could remember in them. He had given himself wholly over to moneygetting, and his soul had shrunk, and shrunk, until the room had not appeared small and mean to him. That is the worst of a sordid passion; we lose our finer sense of the perspective and relation of things. On this afternoon, somehow, the room seemed cramped and oppressive. He sat down by the table, and leaned his head upon his hand. He was buried in deep thought. The hard expression was relaxed, and there were fine lines in his face. Observed closely, he did not appear so old as his white hair would indicate. He was evidently much distressed, and a nature capable of entire devotion to one object, even though a sordid one, is capable, also, of intense feeling. At last an expression of pain escaped him: "O my God! And I never suspected it." Rising after a while, and, going to an old trunk in the corner, he unlocked it and took out a strong tin box, which he brought back to the table and placed thereon. Producing a small key from his pocket he opened it. On the top were some deeds and mortgages. Removing these, he came to a small parcel, carefully tied in a piece of oil-silk. He undid this parcel slowly, and as though every movement was painful to him. It contained two old letters, and a small gold locket with a chain. He took from his pockets the trinket which he had taken from the little boy. In outward appearance the lockets and chains were exactly similar. Vol. III.-6. The one he had taken from the box contained the picture of a young, and, withal, handsome man, and bore the inscription: "O. H. TO A. M." The one he took from his pocket contained the face of a young girl, and in similar lettering was inscribed: "A. M. TO O. H." The two letters in the box were yellow and discolored with age. "Twenty years!" he said, bitterly, to himself. "Twenty years! And we both threw our lives away for a momentary spite-she to become the wife of one she did not love, and I to become the miserable thing that I am. And I hunted her to the death! O my God! If I had only suspected it!" He paced the floor in agitation. The past rose before him like a hideous specter, grinning in horrible triumph. Even the sweet face in the locket was turned to him sadly, with a reproachful look. A strong nature, capable of utter selfabnegation, of the demolition of every ideal and idol, of the pursuit of a repulsive object not as a matter of choice but of will, is susceptible, upon occasion, of the most bitter and intense remorse. There was no thought in his mind. of the contrast between the promise of his youth and the barren and dreary fulfillment of his manhood-only the haunting suggestion of the wrong to another, of the contrast between the sweet face which looked up to him from yonder table and the agonized face which had implored him with dying eyes the night before. "Heaven is my witness that I never suspected it. I cannot It was too much. His head burned, and he felt a heavy, oppressive pain at his heart which startled him. He went to the table, took a sheet of paper, and commenced to write. After a few lines he tore it up and selected another sheet. Upon this he wrote a few short sentences, then signed his name and affixed the date. Weak and exhausted, he went to the bed and lay his head upon the pillows. The afternoon sunlight came in at the little window and shone upon his tired face. The rays seemed warmer and more rosy than usual. Looking out through the panes, the west was aflame with a glory of color. And through this radiance of the heavens the sun was sinking slowly into the waters of the limitless sea. Early the next morning, Digby, still out of work, and still in arrears for his rent, mounted the stairs leading to the miser's room, to beg for a further delay. Digby considered himself 86 wronged, in some indefinite way, by every one who had wealth, and by his landlord in particular. It had so happened that, on a certain day of the week before, Digby had been possessed But the landlord, of the money to pay his rent. not knowing this fact, failed to call upon him, having done so without success several previous days in succession. As a consequence, the money went into the coffers of the saloon situated immediately under the Digby residence, and that worthy, by some irrelevancy of logic, considered Old Hunks principally to blame for this result. Hence it was, as he climbed the stairs, that he looked upon his errand as largely in the nature of a humiliation; and it was a little vindictively, perhaps, that he knocked with such unnecessary distinctness. Hearing no answer, with the usual directness of his class, he applied his hand to the knob, and opened the door. He stood a moment irresolute. There is one presence which unnerves the strongest. Digby was not a bad man at heart. He took his hat from his head instinctively, and said, below his breath: "God forgive me for the hard things I've said about him." A doctor was soon brought, but human skill is powerless in the presence of the awful mystery of death. He pronounced it heart disease. He never knew with what unconscious truth he spoke. Upon the table they found a holographic will, penned, signed, and dated in the well known characters. It lay, still open, where it had been written. They took it up, curious to read the will of a miser. After the appointment of an executor, it contained these words: "I forgive and release all persons in my debt the amounts to which they are severally indebted. To my said executor, I give one-half of all my property, real and personal, in trust, to be invested by him, and the income to be applied to the relief of worthy people in distress in the city of San Francisco. All the residue and remainder of my property I give, share and share alike, to the two children of my deceased friend Alice Benton, formerly Alice Marshall. And, with trust in His eternal goodness, I commit my soul unto Him who knoweth and forgiveth." CHAS. H. PHELPS. NOTE BOOK. THE CIVIL SERVICE REFORM ASSOCIATION is the name of an organization having its headquarters in New York City, and having in view the accomplishment of the following objects, as declared in the second clause of its constitution: "The object of the Association shall be to establish a system of appointment, promotion, and removal in the Civil Service founded upon the principle that public office is a public trust, admission to which should depend upon proved fitness. To this end the Association will demand that appointments to subordinate executive offices, with such exceptions not inconsistent with the principle already mentioned, as may be expedient, shall be made from persons whose fitness has been ascertained by competitive examinations open to all applicants properly qualified; and that removals shall be made for legitimate causes only, such as dishonesty, negligence, or inefficiency, but not for political opinion or for refusal to render party service; and the Association will advocate all other appropriate measures for securing intelligence, integrity, good order, and due discipline in the Civil Service.' Mr. George William Curtis is President of the Association, and the high character of those who are engaged in promoting it is a sufficient guaranty of its purpose and aims. It is probable that this organization may be productive of great good if its influence be not dissipated in the attempt to bring about inconsequential "reforms" with which the people are not in sympathy. In other words, the progress of civil service reform so far has been retarded by the attempted enforcement of irritating, petty regulations as to the individual conduct of office holders, regulations which in some instances went so far as to abridge the freedom of one in office to participate with his fellow-citizens in the privileges of American citizenship. It is safe to say that the people have never been and will not be in sympathy with any such efforts. Now, the essential point in reforming the civil service is to introduce a tenure of office during life or good behavior. So long as the petty offices shall be bestowed in payment for party zeal, so long will those who desire to possess or retain those offices be mere retainers of the party "leaders," so long will the "leaders" use their power to perpetuate their rule, and so long will the reform be delayed. On the other hand, let the tenure for life or good behavior be introduced, there will be every incentive for the honest performance of duty, and none whatever for its neglect. Public officials will look forward to a long and honorable life in the Government employ, and these positions will grow in respectability There is no good reason why a and general esteem. change of administration should affect the position of any officer of the Government, except, possibly, the Cabinet. But how is this to be brought about. It is not to be expected that Senators and Representatives in Congress will lend their aid to any scheme which shall deprive them of the patronage by which they perpetuate their power. In fact, experience has proved that they will stand like a solid phalanx in the way of any such measure. And if one Congress could be persuaded into the passage of an adequate law, the same would be subject to the amendment, repeal, or practical nullification of every succeeding Congress. It is clear that any pro vision of this kind, in order to be permanent, must be placed above the reach of those who might be interested to have it abrogated or amended. There is but one such place, and that is in the Constitution of the United States. In the case of our federal judges it was thought to be important that they should hold office during good behavior, and it was accordingly so provided in the Constitution. As a result, they are, in general, men of intelligence and honesty, keeping aloof from partisanship and performing their duties efficiently. From the beginning of the Government the judiciary has been its most honorable and learned department. Now, if it be desirable that all our offices be as inviolable as these, it is also desirable that the enactment be equally beyond the reach of those who would render it nugatory. It is better, perhaps, not to make the experiment than to fail in it. If the Civil Service Reform Association will devote its efforts to procuring a constitutional amendment providing that all appointive executive officers, save members of the President's Cabinet, shall hold office for life or during good behavior, except when retired for old age upon suitable pensions, it will accomplish more in the direction of reforming the public service than can be brought about in any other manner. It is well enough to urge competitive examinations, but the manner of appointment is of infinitely less importance than the tenure of office after appointment. THE INFLUENCE OF SUCH A REFORM upon the motives of the voters will not be inconsiderable. The elective franchise will be to an extent lifted out of the quagmire of politics on to the higher and better ground of statesmanship. The objective point will be essentially different. An election will no longer be a mere scramble for offices. It will be a struggle to secure the legislative rather than the executive department of government-to shape the national policy, to enact the laws, and to determine in a given way grave questions of statecraft, rather than merely to secure the spoils. In England, when a change of administration takes place, a score or so of gentlemen, whose positions have directly to do with the national policy, go out of office, and are replaced by as many of their opponents. The great body of office-holders are undisturbed. The question of spoils does not come even remotely into the contest. The question of individual gain does not and cannot enter the mind of the average voter. It is purely a matter of public, and not at all of personal, moment. The end in view is to influence legislation or to effect in some manner the public policy. It is a matter of utter inconsequence who does the clerical work, who fills the petty places. A broader, higher, and better motive prevails. In this country the struggle is to secure the executive department. The party is deemed to have won who has this, even if its adversary remain in possession of the law-making power. Every voter is a possible office-holder, and it is to be feared that too many of them have this fact in mind at the polls. When the tenure of office is for life or during good behavior, this motive will cease to exist, and voters will consider merely the public good. THE INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBILITY OF WRITERS for the opinions which they express in the articles published over their signatures in THE CALIFORNIAN has been editorially proclaimed upon several different occasions. But as a number of persons not otherwise open to the charge of feculence of intellect seem unable to comprehend this very general rule, we take occasion to reannounce it. We desire, and expect to publish, vigorous and able articles from leading men on both sides of live questions. We do not expect to prune, cut down, or distort the same, nor to strike out ideas with which we do not agree. If the magazine were to be held responsible for opinions expressed in articles it would be necessary to do this. Every article would be deprived of its individuality, and the only opinion would be that of the editor. We prefer to make the magazine the exponent of the best thought of the contributors, and we shall not ask them to write or think by measure according to our dictation. As a corollary, it is not THE CALIFORNIAN, but the contributor, who is responsible for the sentiments which appear over his signature. SCIENCE AND INDUSTRY. DUST-SHOWERS. The wide-spread area over which a single occurrence of that class of phenomena known as " 'dust-showers" frequently extends has suggested the idea that they may oftentimes have a cosmic origin. Dust-showers, it is true, often occur from local causes, such as volcanic eruptions, by which ashes are distributed over areas of many hundred miles in extent, or from dust raised by the passage of wind-storms over large tracts of desert, and deposited at distant points, as often occurs in the southern part of California. But the following, collated from the official organ of the United States Civil Service for March, 1880, would seem to imply a cosmic origin: A most remarkable dust-shower made its appearance in British Columbia on the afternoon of March 24th, and, moving southward, passed over Idaho on the morning of the 25th; still continuing its easterly course, it was central in Nebraska on the afternoon of the 26th. At midnight of the same day it was central in Iowa. On the afternoon of the 27th it was felt in Illinois, and at midnight in Ohio. Very remarkable dust-storms prevailed at the same time in Missouri, Kansas, and New Mexico. During the continuance of this fall of dust the barometer at the different localities mentioned varied from 0.04 to 0.75 below the normal point. It is well known that snow collected on mountain-tops and within the Arctic Circle, far beyond the influence of factories and smoke, or the effects of wind passing over the bare earth, confirm the supposition that minute particles of dust float in space, and, in time, come in contact with our atmosphere, when they fall to the earth. These particles of dust are sometimes found to consist largely of iron, and by many scientists are thought to bear some relation to auroral phenomena. Gronemann, of Gottingen, has put forth the theory that streams of these particles revolve around the sun, and that when the earth passes through such streams the iron particles are attracted to the poles, from whence they shoot forth in long filaments through the upper atmosphere with such velocity that they often become ignited, and they produce the well known luminous appearance characterizing auroral phenomena. Professor Nordenskjold, who recently examined snow at points far north of Spitzbergen, reports that he found in it exceedingly minute particles of metallic iron, cobalt, and phosphorus. It would seem exceedingly probable that such particles could have no other than a cosmic origin. HOT ICE. The idea of "hot ice" would seem to be somewhat paradoxical. Yet it may be realized, and ice, or frozen water, may be kept in a vessel-glass, if you please-so that it may both be seen and handled, and yet be so hot that it will burn the hand that holds it. The principle under which it is possible that this curious experiment may be shown is as follows: In order to convert a solid into a liquid, the pressure must be above a certain point, else no amount of heat will melt the substance. Hence, if we can keep a cake of ice at a certain point of pressure, no heat can liquify it; the degree of heat which it will withstand depending upon the degree of pressure which is maintained. This interesting experiment has recently been performed by Mr. Thomas Carnelly, during his experimental investigations in regard to the boiling point of water, and other substances, under pressure. ENGLISH DISLIKE OF INNOVATION. One great cause of the decrease in English exports is the conservatism among English manufacturers and their extreme dislike of innovations. They are inclined to stick to old processes and old styles, refusing to study the tastes of their customers. They seek to impose their own notions and ideas upon the world. Hence, foreign buyers seek in America, in Germany, and in France, goods better suited to their taste and needs. French manufacturers are particularly ready and quick to suit their work to the tastes of their customers. They are especially apt in devising new styles and patterns, such as shall most readily meet the varying tastes of buyers. They realize that variety is pleasing and fashion capricious, and never hesitate to change a machine, or a pattern, when the old one fails to suit; while the Englishman looks well at the cost, and prefers to continue "in the good old way," with the hope that some day the fashion may come round again. Another example of the conservatism of the English manufacturer is manifested in his preference for hand work over machine work. He refuses to believe that a machine can be made to do more perfect work than the hand. Hence, in the manufacture of watches, of sewing-machines, and of many classes of fire-arms, he utterly fails to compete with more progressive mechanics on this side of the Atlantic. The more observing and thoughtful of Englishmen themselves are beginning to realize these facts, and have already raised the note of alarm. A British correspondent, who styles himself "A Skilled Workman," who recently visited some of our manufacturing establishments, writes as follows to the Sheffield Telegraph: "The use of files, rasps, and floats are superseded by other tools [machine tools] astonishing in their adaptability for perfect and rapid production. No written description could convey an idea of their great ability and method. . . . . The skill of the engineer has taken the place of the skilled artisans; for mere boys are tending these operations, and yet quality is not ignored. . . The readiness of the employers to adopt any practical suggestion from any one of their hands is a notable feature in most American factories, whereas the cold shoulder is generally given such in England. We weakly waddle in the wake of America in the matter of inventions until a necessity is proved, when an earnest effort is made and progress is attained. Old-fashioned methods of manufacture will have to be abandoned for newer and better ones, if 'Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin,' is not to be written across British commerce in the future. The individual skill and handicraft of the best Sheffield workmen I have not seen surpassed in the United States, but they are inadequate for all the requirements of the present age." A DELICATE INSTRUMENT. Professer S. P. Langley, of the Alleghany Observatory, has invented an instrument for measuring the intensity of radiant heat, which he claims is thirty times more sensitive than the ordinary thermopile-the most delicate instrument yet invented for such use. Moreover, the thermopile is very slow in its action, while the Professor's new instrument, which he calls the thermal balance, takes up the heat and parts with it, so that it may be registered, in a single second. Its action is almost as prompt as the human eye. Its accuracy is so perfect that it will record within one per cent. of the amount to be measured. Its sensitiveness is so great that it will register, accurately, an amount of heat which will not exceed one fifty-thousandth part of a degree of Fahrenheit. When mounted in a reflecting telescope, it will record the heat given off by a man, or even any small animal in a distant field. The Professor has been applying it to measure the heat of the moon, from which some interesting and reliable data may soon be expected. It is the most delicate and truly scientific instrument for measuring the energy of radiant heat which has ever been devised.. ure. THE DEAD-POINT IN MIND TENSION. It is a common subject of marvel that criminals, in the presence of immediate execution, are so often perfectly self-possessed, and exhibit such singular composThey will sleep through the night before execution, and rise as for an ordinary day's duties. Those who form exceptions to this rule, who are more or less prostrated by the agonizing prospects of violent death, no doubt suffer much more than those who control their feelings. The former usually retain every faculty and sense, and seek for information, and adopt measures to minimize their sufferings at the critical moment. As a general thing, their pulse is even less disturbed than is that of the officials who are compelled to carry out the dread penalty of the law. Why is this? The Lancet answers as follows: "The mind has reached what may be designated a 'dead-point' in its tension. The excitement is over, the agony of anticipation, the trem ་ |