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.

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

bling doubt between hope and fear of escape, has exhausted the irritability of the mind, and there is, as it were, a pause, an interval of passive endurance between the end of the struggle for life, and the bitterness of remorse, and agony of disappointment, which may begin at death. In this interval, the mind is released from the tension of its effort for self-preservation, and almost rebounds with the sense of relief that comes with certainty, even though the assurance be that of impending

death..... the hours previous to execution, presents features of intense interest to the psychologist, and, rightly comprehended, it is to be feared they would throw new light on the supposed preparation these unfortunate persons evince for a fate which, being inevitable, they, at the final moment, are able to meet with a composure in which hypocrisy or self-deception finds the amplest scope."

The mental state of a criminal, during

WILLIAM KEITH.

There are few among the landscape painters of the country whose work is more full, both of fulfillment and promise, than the artist whose name stands at the head of this paragraph. Mr. Keith has recently returned from New England, and has, in his San Francisco studio, eighty-seven sketches in oil of scenes in Maine and New Hampshire. To say that these are admirable is to do them scant justice. They range through all the different moods of Nature. They paint her in all her costumes, from the gaudy glory of her autumnal dress to her most sober and ashen vestment. They display more versatility than one would have imagined possible. To one familiar with New England landscape, they seem, in their way, perfect. A lady not inaptly remarked that they made her homesick. Detailed criticism is, of course, from the number of these sketches, impossible. The characteristic which they have in common is a remarkable truthfulness of impression, a bold grasp of the subject as a whole. They are vivid, realistic, true to nature as well as to art. In fact, one insensibly renders them the highest tribute that can be paid; he forgets the art, he sees only the scene. The impression one gets is general, not detailed; it is that which is received in gazing upon Nature for inspiration, not in examining her for information. Artists too often make the mistake of finishing every rock, tree, and bank as it appears upon a close study. As a result, the picture has no perspective; neither foreground nor background. It is bewildering. The one impression sought is lost in a maze of impressions. The picture is merely a botanical catalogue in oil. In Mr. Keith's sketches, everything is properly subordinated to and harmonized with the whole, as in nature itself. It presents the scene as the poet sees it, as the artist beholds it, not as the painstaking scientist analyzes it. Mr. Keith's admirers will claim that these sketches are equal, if not superior, to anything which has been produced in the same line. And those who enjoy the rare privilege of seeing them will not be inclined to dispute this claim.

THE ARCHEOLOGICAL INSTITUTE OF

AMERICA.

This society, founded in Boston a year and a half ago, has now had its experts for some months in the field, and is likely to make very important contributions to our knowledge of the life of prehistoric man in America.

The remains of the works of the former inhabitants of this continent are the principal source to which we must look for a knowledge of the condition of man in Amer- . ica previous to its discovery four hundred years ago. These remains have never yet been made the object of a comprehensive survey and a scientific classification, but their varied character, and the wide field over which they extend, make them a most attractive object of exploration. From the south-western corner of Colorado, across New Mexico, Arizona, and Mexico, to Yucatan and Central America, the unexplained structures of a vanished race impel us to inquire what were the objects of their builders, and how far their methods of construction indicate an intellectual purpose, mechanical skill, the possession of improved tools, or any other advancement toward civilization. Within the limits of the United States the principal structures awaiting interpretation are: (1) the extraordinary cave-dwellings, found principally along the tributaries of the San Juan, in Colorado, and built in the faces of cliffs hundreds of feet above the level of the valleys; (2) the towers and the ancient pueblos, no longer inhabited, built in terrace form, and comprising, in some instances, as many as five hundred apartments in one structure; (3) the modern pueblos, like the ancient in plan, and, like them, found principally in New Mexico and Arizona, and inhabited by existing Indian tribes. Such are the pueblos which extend along the Rio Grande del Norte, and are found at Zuñi and Moqui, points hitherto remote from contact with white men. To explore each of these groups of structures will be the first object of the Archæological Institute, which has wisely determined to begin investigations by a precise study of the inhabited pueblos. This will enable the Institute to put on record a scientific account of the mode of life, the industries, the customs, the religion, the folk-lore, the traditions of tribes which must soon perish before the advance of our own The information thus acquired will doubtless furnish the key to interpreting the constructive purposes of the ancient pueblos, so closely allied to those of the present; and the theory advanced as to the connection between the plan of the buildings and a supposed communal mode of life will probably be definitely settled. It may not be too much to expect that the study of existing pueblo life will also supply many hints as to the objects for which the cliff-dwellings may have been erected. The Institute will, at any rate, secure trustworthy ground-plans and measurements of those and of all other structures; and, in view of the demolition of many structures for building purposes which is certain

race.

It

to attend the approaching settlement of the country, this work has not been begun a moment too soon. is also of importance that the work of collecting the legends and superstitions of the numerous small tribes of Indians scattered over Arizona should proceed as rapidly as possible. It has been a matter of frequent observation by travelers who have visited Arizona at intervals during the past ten years that a frightful mortality invariably manifests itself in tribes which come in contact with the vagrant mining population of the place. This fact should stimulate the Institute to push its work forward as rapidly as possible. The ability to do so will no doubt depend upon the subscriptions received.

The Institute appeals to the whole country. It is a thoroughly American enterprise. At the same time the field of its labors belongs especially to the Pacific Coast, and we do not doubt that the value of the Institute's researches as a basis for future history will be appreciated here, and meet with substantial encouragement. In the list of life-members, which appears in the first annual report, Mr. D. O. Mills has the honor of representing California. It is to be hoped that in the next report the names of many other Californians will stand by his. The conditions of membership may be learned by addressing the Secretary, Mr. Edward H. Greenleaf, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

CONTRARY TO GENERAL EXPECTATION, Daniel Rochat is a success in New York. Originally produced at the Théâtre Français, under the author's immediate supervision, to an audience composed of the elite of Paris, and interpreted by the best actors in all Europe, it failed to achieve even the modest success of being understood. This is something of a paradox, and the explanation interesting-for it is not often that the verdict of Paris is reversed in New York. The simple fact is, Daniel Rochat is an English play in a French dress, and its philosophy proved quite too subtile for the naïveté of the French mind. In the first place, the character of "Lea Henderson" could not be intelligible to them from any stand-point. That a woman could be religious without being bigoted, and worship liberty without denying God, has never entered into their ideas. Yet there is a little town in Massachusetts, Boston by name, which we venture to say would indorse "Lea" in toto. It is curious, in this connection,

that the author of l'Oncle Sam should have displayed to the eyes of Europe so favorable a specimen of American womanhood. He would apologize, perhaps, by pointing out the fact that she is half English. Again, giving to "Lea" the power of analysis was positively startling to them, and the remark which so fascinated "Rochat"-"La liberté en France est un peu comme le génie de la Bastille, le pied toujours en l'air pour s'envoler "-could never have come from the mouth of a French girl. As she is the central figure, and "Rochat," dramatically speaking, but a foil to her, this, of itself, would explain its success where she was a living thing, its failure where she was a shadowy unreality. Moreover, making "Rochat" more bigoted that bigot was another shock to the conventionalism which is so characteristic of the French mind; and yet the proposition that proselytism and intolerance are common to human nature, and not the accidents of creeds, would seem to be almost an axiom. Sardou evidently apprehended some difficulty here, since in the long scene between the elder "Fargis" and 'Rochat" he is careful to contrast the average skeptical temperament with the rarer enlightened one. Rochat," completely taken aback by the conservative skepticism of his friend, exclaims:

DANIEL. Enfin tu n'es pas un clérical! Tu es un philosophe! FARGIS.-Religieux !

DANIEL.-De quelle religion?
FARGIS.-De toutes.
DANIEL.-Et moi d'aucune.

It may be urged that all this belongs rather to a thesis than to a play. But there is a practical, a dramatic -nay, a poetic-side to the most negative of human ideas; and if Sardou has failed to state his premises with simplicity, he has not overlooked any element of human interest in the working out of his conclusion. It is just the element of human interest in "Daniel Rochat" and in " Lea" which is precious, for he would be a poor playwright indeed who should found a work appealing almost exclusively to the feelings and the heart upon a negation. They are in the position of two travelers meeting at cross-roads, but to take widely divergent paths. She, hating tyranny of every kind, thinks to find in "Rochat" a liberality equal to her own, but awakes to discover a skepticism more narrow than the bigotry from which she has fled. For if "Lea" is typical of anything, it is of a thirst for liberty, but not the liberty which rejects the good with the bad. She prosecutes a crusade against all tyranny in the name of God; he, a crusade against all religion in the name of liberty. The situation of making a play turn on the mere formalities of marriage is not absolutely new to the stage, but is nevertheless one of great power and purpose; that of being married and not married is certainly dramatic enough for any taste, and this is the gist of Daniel Rochat, all else being mere details grouped around the central point. That two persons should contract with enthusiasm, marry in haste, one of the parties even ignorant that she was married at all; that out of discussion of mere formalities should grow a knowledge of one another; that a terrible duel should arise; that love should expire in the conflict, and divorce be a welcome solution-surely all this is dramatic enough; perhaps too much so.

THOSE WHO THINK THAT GENIUS HAS DEPARTED from the stage should see Sheridan. If greatness consists in a complete identification of the actor with the character, then Sheridan is unmistakably great. On seeing Louis XI. a second time, we tried the experiment of repeating mechanically to ourselves, "This is Sheridan the actor." The experiment proved a failure. Sher

idan the actor disappeared, and in his place stood the grim personality of "Louis." Sheridan has this advantage over many of his fellow-actors, that he has attained celebrity after a long apprenticeship. He is master of the technics of his art. Sheridan has this in common with his English prototype, Irving. They are both realistic, though the former possesses a far greater power of drawing out the salient features of the characters he

plays. Moreover, he would not have stooped to the bit of clap-trap which Irving introduced into his Louis XI., in making his hair turn white between the fourth and fifth acts. In fact, he is an artist, disdaining all unworthy ways to public favor. Never playing to the galleries, but always to the most critical of his audience, he has attained complete success by absolutely artistic methods.

FOUR CENTURIES OF ENGLISH LETTERS. Selections

from the Correspondence of One Hundred and Fifty

Writers from the Period of the Paston Letters to the Present Day. Edited and arranged by W. Baptiste Scoones. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1880. For sale in San Francisco by Payot, Upham & Co.

This collection of letters is, of course, open to the same general criticisms as all collections. They are never very satisfactory. They contain too much and too various matter to be read consecutively through, and not enough to be perfectly satisfactory for browsing among. The old letters of English writers are as interesting as any branch of history, biography, or literature could be, but the ideal way to read them is in full files. We ought to have libraries at our elbows in which should stand side by side full collections of the letters of every English writer worth publishing, and also of a good many not worth publishing, to make us appreciate the good ones. Among these volumes we could search and prowl at our own sweet will, and feel very much as if we had found in an old chest up garret stores of yellow packets recording the courtship of our great-grandfathers and the household affairs of their aunts and mothers, and had sat down on the floor beside it, with our laps full of the brittle sheets, to spend a long afternoon in wandering through the world of a hundred years ago. The obvious impossibility of reading old English letters in any such ideal way, unless one lives at some great literary center, reconciles us to such eclectic works as the one in question. It gives to most of us the opportunity to read letters that otherwise we should not have read at all.

It is somewhat surprising to see how small a proportion, even in a book of selected letters, consists of really good ones, and flattering to nineteenth century vanity to see how this proportion steadily increases as one nears the present time. The chronological order adopted by the editor displays this progress excellently. The most marked and permanent impression made by the book is the steady increase in simplicity, self-respect, and sincerity apparent in the tone of the letters. The strain of artificial compliment in all the earlier ones seems to us not simply a custom, but an indication of a certain servility. The self-respect with which writers of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries ask favors, the frank equality with which they address friends, is not to be found earlier. Humor, too, appears to be in letters a modern product, though literature showed no lack of it as far back as Chaucer. Another thing which few of the older letter-writers seem to have been capable of is clear and direct expression. It is really refreshing to

see the vague, cumbrous sentences grow clearer, century by century, as we approach the present.

The really good letters are distributed among a very few writers, and these are almost invariably men of literary distinction, whose "Life and Letters" are already in print. This fact takes away from the interest of the book. We feel that all that is best in it we have had before in lives of Charles Lamb, Wordsworth, Macaulay, etc. Nevertheless, the book gives us an interesting opportunity to compare the good with the mediocre; it includes many letters that are not brilliant, yet are mildly interesting, and it also includes some excellent ones that are not likely to be found elsewhere, especially among the older writers. There are one or two excellent letters of Roger Ascham, of Sir Thomas More, and of Lord Bacon, shining out like lamps among feeble tallow-dips, and there is at least one good, vigorous letter from Queen Elizabeth, written when too angry to mind the formalities. But the whole collection leaves us free to believe that instead of lost arts, letter-writing and conversation are still vigorous, and improving from generation to generation.

LEARNING TO DRAW, OR THE STORY OF A YOUNG DESIGNER. By Viollet-le-Duc. Translated from the French by Virginia Champlin. Illustrated by the author. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. For sale in San Francisco by A. L. Bancroft & Co.

Everybody can learn to draw, but not everybody can be an artist. This dictum, which has the support of Ruskin, is also the guiding principle of the lessons conveyed in this capital book by the late distinguished architect and critic, M. Viollet-le-Duc. "Drawing,"

says the author, "taught as it should be, no more leads a child to become an artist than instruction in the French language leads him to become a poet. To me drawing is simply a mode of recording observations by the aid of a language which engraves them on the mind and permits one to utilize them, whatever the career he follows." If children who have gone through a long series of drawing lessons "never think of making a sketch which will remind them of a scene, a place, a piece of furniture, or a tool," it is "because they have never been taught to see; and one learns to see only by drawing, not from engraved patterns, but from objects themselves." These principles M. Viollet-le-Duc proceeds to illustrate in a charming story; for his whole book is only the story of a little boy who showed in a crude, but original, drawing of a cat that he had the talent of seeing for himself. Captivated by this sketch,