"But what has happened? What is the matter?" cried the young Count.

'Accompany me,” said Pietri, "and you will learn all."

The young man tremblingly followed the Prefect into his carriage, and was driven to the palace of the Emperor, where both were admitted into the cabinet.

Napoleon looked up, surprised, when he saw the pale and excited young man enter his room with Pietri.

"Sire," said the Prefect, "Count Lehon is deeply moved at the measures which I have been obliged to take against his mother, and he wishes to assure your Majesty of his devotion. I did not consider myself free, until here in your Majesty's presence, to impart to him that the Countess has delivered documents of importance, relating to state affairs, into the hands of the banished Prince of Orleans-that is, to the enemies of your Majesty and France."

"O my God," exclaimed the young Count Lehon, "what a misfortune!" He covered his face with his hands and leaned against the door. "Then it is really true?" asked the Emperor, with astonishment and alarm.

"It is true," said Pietri, while at the same time, with a light shake of the head, he gave the Emperor a sharp glance, "and your Majesty can conceive how painful this serious affair must be for Count Lehon, who is such a good Frenchman, and such an admirer of your Majesty."

"It is high treason," said the Emperor, over whose lips a fugitive smile passed, "which cannot occur without severe punishment.”

Count Lehon sighed deeply and painfully; then suddenly he arose, and stepped before the Emperor, with joyful mein.

"No, sire, no," said he; "it is not true-it is a false accusation. It cannot be true, for until this morning those papers were in our house. I have seen them myself, and since then my mother cannot possibly have had the time to send them to London."

"The papers were there? You have seen them yourself?" asked the Emperor, after listening with attention, while joyful triumph lightened up Pietri's features.

"Yes, yes," exclaimed Count Lehon. "They were there. I have seen them. I came into

"If that be the case," said the Emperor, "the accusation which is made against your mother must be false. But why has she not told it? Why did she not show these papers? That would have been the best proof that they cannot be in London."

"The Countess Lehon," said Pietri, "does not know what is here the point in question. I have not thought it necessary to communicate anything to her, but have, first of all, only made sure of her person in the most discreet way."

"Oh," cried Count Lehon, "one must look after them. You will be convinced that the papers are there, under the picture of Count Morny, which is hanging in my mother's room. You must press sharply upon the nail which holds this picture. A cupboard in the wall, the casing of which is exactly joined into the tapestry, and which cannot be discovered by knocking, because a plastered wall covers it, will instantly be opened, and the papers will be found in it. Oh, sire, believe me that my mother, also, in her most violent anger against the Count, would never be able to betray your Majesty."

"You hear, Pietri?" said Napoleon. "I shall be happy if it be so."

"It is so, your Majesty," cried Count Lehon. "One must convince one's self. I, myself, will hasten to my mother, if your Majesty permit me."

"The affair is too serious, sire," said Pietri, "to allow any intercourse with the Countess before she is freed from the suspicion that rests on her. I am Police-Prefect, sire. To me every one, even Count Lehon, must appear under suspicion until the contrary is proved."

"You hear?" said Napoleon, kindly, to the young Count, who cast a glance full of terror on the Police-Prefect. "He is as cold as ice. He must be so. Well, I will keep you here, myself, as hostage, till the matter is settled. Write, here at my table, to your mother, and beg her to settle the matter on your account, because pride and anger might, perhaps, otherwise prevent her from doing so."

"Immediately, immediately," exclaimed the Count. "Oh, how gracious your Majesty is! How can I ever thank you for such consideration?"

He went to the Emperor's writing desk, and wrote a few lines, which he gave to the PolicePrefect, who then went away. Napoleon invited the young man to take a place by his side,

and, with captivating amiability, absorbed him in a conversation, which made him almost forget the painful situation in which he found himself. M. Pietri drove back to the Hôtel Lehon. The Countess was lying on a lounge, reading, with apparent calmness and indifference, while the police officer was modestly seated near the door."

"Now," said the Countess, when M. Pietri entered, "the three hours have not yet elapsed. Have you yet convinced yourself that it will be in vain, if you intended to compel me, by a kind of modern torture, to deliver up documents which are in secure keeping far from here?"

"No, madame," said M. Pietri; "but I have to bring you this note from your son, who, moved by the kindness of the Emperor, beseeches you to put a stop to this unpleasant affair."

The Countess started up, frightened. Pietri gave her the paper.

"Oh," exclaimed she, with sparkling eyes, "they have ensnared the weak child. They think I shall yield to his demand. They think I shall forget myself, and sacrifice my revenge for the scrap of favor they have thrown to him. Never, sir, never!"

"Well, then," said M. Pietri, "so you have to blame yourself alone if I use force, and take a thing which you refuse to give me."

Pietri then quickly stepped up to the cabinet's wall, to where a picture of Count Morny, in a beautifully chased frame, was hanging. The next moment he had taken down this picture. A sharp pressure upon the nail that had held it, opened the panel in the wall. A small iron-safe stood in the dark hollow, lined with velvet. Like a tigress the Countess Lehon jumped up; she seized M. Pietri's carefully arranged side-curls with a tight grasp, and uttering an inarticulate cry of rage, she tore him away from the opening. In spite of this unforeseen attack, M. Pietri had already seized the strong-box, and thrown it to the officer, who had quickly approached.

"We have what we were looking for, madame," said he, removing her hand from his throat. "Every noise will be in vain, and will compromise only yourself. I beg you, therefore, to submit to the unavoidable."

"Ha, traitor!" cried the Countess, beside herself with rage, seizing a small Venetian dagger lying among her knick-knacks. She was about to rush upon the Prefect. But the officer quickly seized her arm, and pressed her wrists together, until she dropped the dagger. M. Pietri bowed to her very politely, and left the room with his companion. The Countess threw

| herself, sobbing convulsively, upon her lounge. The Police-Prefect returned to the Emperor.

"That is it; that is it," exclaimed the young Count Lehon, when he perceived the strongbox in Pietri's hands. "Your Majesty can well see that my mother is innocent. All the papers must be in it.”

Pietri opened the cover; the Emperor eagerly seized the papers contained in the small box, and glanced over them, one after another.

"Is it not so, your Majesty?" cried Count Lehon. "Is it not true, people have maliciously accused my mother?"

"It was a vile imputation of her enemies," said M. Pietri, pressing the Count's hand. "All the measures are again recalled. Your mother is again free. I feel sorry for what has happened, but I could not act otherwise, and I hope that nobody has become aware of it."

The Emperor placed the strong-box, with a contented smile, on his writing-desk. "Go, sir," said he to Count Lehon, "and carry your mother my excuses. I have been happy to talk a little with you, and to convince myself how France is justified in reposing hope in such an excellent young man as yourself."

He gave the Count his hand, who, quite enchanted, left him, and hastened to his mother. He found her still sobbing, almost suffocated with anger.

"You have betrayed me," cried she to him. "These demons have understood how to use the child against his own mother, with their devilish cunning."

"I betray you, my mother!" exclaimed the young man, greatly surprised. "I have rescued you. I have defended you against a false accusation. I have proved to them that you were falsely accused."

The Countess looked full of astonishment at the gentle, smiling countenance of her son.

"You have bereft me of the weapon, my son," said she, at last, with emotion, "to punish that false, spiteful traitor, who forgets his oath, and gives up to a stranger the place which is due to your mother."

"Is not here the place for my mother?" said the Count, opening his arms, with radiant glances. "Can she find a place that is better and safer than the heart of her son?"

The Countess, for a moment, pressed her hands on her heart, but she could not resist the glance of her child; weeping, she sank into the arms of the young man.

The marriage of Count Morny was celebrated with much splendor. He led his young wife to Paris, into the magnificent Hôtel Morny, and the first visit which both paid after his arrival

was to the Countess Lehon.

was warm.

had been nominated a "Knight of the Legion of Honor." Soon afterward he entered the State's service as Maitre des Requêtes; and again, a short time after this, he was, through the influence of Government, elected as Deputy, and appointed a President to the Conseil-général de l'Aix. A. WEISE.

THE CALIFORNIAN has now been running threequarters of a year. From the issuance of the January number to the present time it has been met with words of encouragement and approval alone. Personal interviews, private letters, and the expressions of the public press have all bid us God-speed. The reception which the magazine has met proves that a field is open for it on this coast, and a glance at the pages of the various numbers reveals the existence of a local talent which, to many, was unsuspected. But it has been evident for some time past to those interested in the enterprise that, in disregarding the experience of all other publications, by fixing the price so far below that of other monthlies, a mistake had been made which, sooner or later, would have to be corrected. The large sums which have to be expended for paper, composition, press work, and the innumerable expenses of printing, issuing, and circulating a monthly magazine, which have, of late, been higher than for many years before, prevent the possibility of placing the publication on that high plane of literary and typographical excellence which its proprietors desire, without a change in the present price. The only alternative was one which the owners would not for a moment consider, that of deteriorating the quality and diminishing the quantity supplied at the existing rates. For some time, therefore, the only question has been, when shall this change be effected, and it has been decided, after consultation, that the sooner it is done the better. Commencing, therefore, with the first day of October, the price of the magazine will be advanced to thirty-five cents for a single number, and to $4.00 for the yearly subscription, the usual price for first-class monthlies. In order that there may be no dissatisfaction among those of our patrons who have not, as yet, subscribed by the year, THE CALIFORNIAN will receive yearly subscriptions at the old rate ($3.00) until the date fixed for the change in the price (October 1, 1880). therefore, needs be affected by the change for the present year. With this change we expect to redouble our efforts to make the magazine worthy of the high favor with which it has been received, and are able already to promise new features which will make it more attractive than ever before.

No one,

IT IS A GREAT MISTAKE to suppose that the people of the Pacific coast are not a reading population. The number of books, periodicals, and papers annually sold

is enormous. These range over the entire field of scientific, artistic, and literary thought. It is a greater mistake to presuppose an absence of literary talent here. The people are strong original thinkers. They wear no intellectual shackles. To an extent their isolated position exempts them from the mental impediments, the grooves and molds which inevitably prevent the freest expansion in an older community. Not to be vainglorious, the articles that have appeared so far in THE CALIFORNIAN illustrate this. Many of them

have attracted attention in the East and abroad for the terseness of their style and the vigor of their thought. All that such a people require is a medium which shall not only reflect, but be a part of, the vigorous life which surrounds it-not in a feverish, sensational sense, but in that broad and comprehensive sense, which includes the whole gamut of human thoughts, impulses, inspirations. No man who wrote in deep sincerity the life of his age ever failed of recognition; and no magazine which truly embodies that which is best in a great people will ever fail of success.

The

THE EDUCATED MAN IN POLITICS is an individual much sneered at by the politician and much longed for by the citizen. There is no more urgent need in any popular government than that its best citizens, the representatives of its highest thought, culture, and conservative progress, should be brought to the front. spectacle of an official devoid alike of education and native ability is not, unfortunately, rare. And, in a measure, the educated classes are to blame for it. One would suppose that those who, by their property or position, had the most at stake in the government of the county, State, or nation, would manifest the most interest in securing the purity of the same. But, as a fact, no class is so apathetic. It is next to impossible to rouse them to any interest in that which concerns them most of all. And, even if their interest be once aroused and they be induced to enter the arena, it is too frequently with an affectation of superiority, a disdain, Coriolanus like, of the people.

"His nature is too noble for the world;

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for his power to thunder."

Now, if there is one thing which the average American citizen will not do, it is to hold a wax candle while some other citizen poses in the rôle of Virtue. And-right

here very many men mistake iciness for virtue. There

is nothing that will thaw under the temptation of a little warmth so soon as ice. What we need is men of broad sympathies, discerning minds, quick purposes, and unfaltering wills. I can count a dozen men in my immediate neighborhood who ought to be governors, congressmen, senators. They are business men of ability, integrity, and success. They are appreciated by all who come in contact with them. Their opinions are listened to with respect, and any one of them in politics would be welcomed as a godsend. There are enough of them in the State to compel, by concerted action, honesty and genuine reform in their respective parties. But great numbers of them will not even go to the polls, and hardly any of them will take an active part in seeing that a proper ticket is nominated even in their own city or county. The results of such indifference are inevitable-the politician, the machine. Upon the indifference of the community the demagogue thrives. Who is to blame if the government suffers?-if incapable or unreliable men are chosen? The confusion of republican institutions has often been predicted-most eloquently of all by Macaulay-at the hands of the rabble. But in any fair contest between intelligence and ignorance, the latter must ultimately give way. Mind always controls force. If ever Macaulay's prophecy be realized, it will be not so much from the inability of the better elements of society to prevail, as from the imperturbable complacency and criminal neglect with which the ship of state is abandoned to whatever fate the winds and the currents may chance to bestow.

NOT ONLY do we require the active participation of educated men in our public affairs, but we need observers, scientific investigators. Mr. Henry George, in a recently published article, invokes with great force the assistance of the scientific method in inquiries into the labor agitation and kindred topics. This method should be applied to all social problems. Certain it is that denunciation and declamation effect little. No man can investigate who has prejudged. But a scientist, taking a deep interest in public questions, yet standing aloof from partisan activity, might discover many things which the combatants had overlooked, might trace causes where they saw only results, might find a remedy while they lamented over an evil. But such an observer must not be a mere theorist. He must see the world as it is, not as it might be. No man shall be our social physician who studies our organism from a chart. Society is the sum of men's prejudices, and one cannot be a reformer who fails to appreciate this. No reasoning will be so wide of the mark as that which proceeds from ideal premises. The scientific investigator, therefore, must possess a rare combination of qualities. He must be of the people and yet not of them. He must sympathize with their prejudices-for without sympathy no one can understand the truth which is in any idea-and yet he must not be influenced thereby. He must be able not only to observe, but to generalize. His mind must be both analytical and creative, radical and conservative, iconoclastic and protective. None other can interpret human nature, and none other can harmonize it. We believe that such an expounder will yet come. It is not conclusive against such belief that the physical Vol. II.-18.

sciences tend to "abstract" men, to make them incapable of appreciating such things as prejudice and passion. That result is an incident not to the scientific method, but to the matter studied. The facts of physical science are unvarying, rigid, unresponsive, unsympathetic. In many departments the disturbing elements are few; and even these, by further investigation, may be classified or predicted. There is no humanity, nothing individual, about physical science. The interest is purely intellectual, and it is for this reason that poets, who deal with the emotions, have so far given us more accurate ideas of our fellows than the men of science. There is more sociology in Robert Burns than in all the scientific books ever written. It is better that the science which investigates a rock should be as cold as its subject. But the science which investigates men must be warm. If it be not, the very difference between man and the rock may be overlooked. We must not hope to find our social scientific investigator among our scientists. He must be specially reared for his work. We cannot expect one whose training has been purely intellectual to accomplish it. What would be the value of John Stuart Mill's dissection of the French Revolution? Neither can we expect accurate generalizations from minds untrained to generalize. It is only very lately that men have commenced to study themselves. It is not wonderful that little has been accomplished. When specialists have devoted years to this field, we may hope that some man of acute sympathies, keen observation, and broad intellect may tell us what manner of men we are and how we can conserve our own highest and best interests.

The

A JUST CRITICISM upon a man of genius is a difficult and perhaps impossible accomplishment. Criticism observes rules, is conservative, is guided by experience, and forms its estimate by comparison with acknowl edged criterions. Genius, on the contrary, breaks through all barriers, disregards all experiences, is entirely radical, and disarranges the most approved standards. Criticism runs in grooves, like the river; genius is comprehensive and illimitable, like the ocean. former is forever fearful of overreaching its banks; the latter is impatient of restraint, and dashes impetuously against its rocky shore. Criticism points out the necessity of unities and combinations; genius violates them, and brings to view new beauties. Even while criticism protests, genius reaches down into some lowly place, and from out the poverty, and degradation, and, it may be, crime, brings such creations as Little Nell," unsullied and pure, to the light. Criticism is stationary; genius is progressive. The face of the former is turned toward the past, but the latter throbs with the life of the present. Criticism says, "It has never been;" genius speaks and it is! The former, therefore, can never grasp the latter. It may recognize genius, and thus be of benefit in exposing the spurious and detecting the genuine. But recognition was never analysis, and never can be.

THE OCTOBER NUMBER OF THE CALIFORNIAN Will be one of the most attractive ever issued. The editor has been able to secure several articles of unusual interest.

IS MATTER SIMPLY A MODE OF MOTION?

"

The

Science has already relegated to the domain of "motion" all such possibilities of sensation as light, heat, electricity, etc., which were formerly defined as imponderable matter; and now comes Professor Crooks with his alleged "fourth state of matter," involving conditions which seem to make it quite clear that not only gases, but even the most solid bodies with which we are acquainted, such as wood, stone, metals, etc., must also share the same fate, and be considered merely as different modes of motion. The Professor holds that a solid is simply an aggregation of molecules, "separated from each other by a space which is relatively large-possibly enormous-in comparison with the central nuclei we call molecules. These molecules, themselves built up of atoms, are governed by certain forces" -the chief of which are attraction and motion. Distant attraction is gravitation, but molecular attraction is cohesion. Both are independent of absolute temperature, but "the mass must be able to bear a reduction of temperature of nearly three hundred degrees before the amplitude of the molecular movements would cease.' What would result from the arrest of these movements, and the actual contact of the molecules, is beyond our conception. All we know of matter is based wholly upon our experience of molecular movements. atomic theory of matter was first announced by Boscovitch more than a century ago, and the idea that particles of matter are endowed with both attraction and repulsion, which is involved in that theory, has been held by scientific men in general until quite recently. When atoms "are said to touch each other they are by no means in actual contact, but separated by an insuperable repulsive force." This interval of separation may be the five-thousandth part of an inch, more or less. Within this interval, according to Boscovitch, if two atoms are brought a little nearer together they will attract each other; if still nearer, they will repel; "but no force, however great, can bring them into mathematical contact." The fundamental assumption was that matter does not continuously fill space. Faraday held that in regard to atoms and the intervening space, space alone is continuous. He further asked, Why assume the existence of matter independent of force?-and substituted the term, "center of force," for atom. Thus matter, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, disappeared entirely, to make room for the emanations of force, which fill the universe, and atoms to points of force-convergence. Of late the hypothesis of molecules and atoms has been greatly developed, and their size and motions mathematically measured. This need not be disputed when instruments have been devised by which one million lines can be drawn in the width of an inch, and each line distinctly seen by a microscope. In Boscovitch's theory there was no contact of atoms. By the theories of to-day they are constantly coming into contact and violent collision. What we call a solid is the first state of matter, and its molecules are in a constant state of activity. When the temperature of a solid is

raised, these molecular movements increase in rapidity and extent of motion, until the mass becomes liquid. Then we have the second state of matter. A still further increase of temperature converts the liquid into a gaseous form, in which the molecules fly about still more freely, and we have the third state of matter. The gaseous condition is one preeminently of molecular disturbance, attended with constant collisions with each other and with the sides of the containing vessels. Now, if a gas is so rarified by an approximate vacuum that the collisions of the molecules in their flight are few as compared with the misses, the molecules will obey their natural laws, and move in rectilinear lines, like a flight of cannon balls directed to a distant object. This is called by Professor Crooks the fourth state of matter. The logical inference from which is that what we call matter, whether solid, liquid, or gaseous, is nothing more than the effect which the movement of the mass of molecules exerts upon our senses, as in heat or light. If we take up a drop of water, the movements of its molecules conveys to our mind the sensation of moistIf we pick up a coin at ordinary temperature, the different motion of its molecules produces upon us an effect which we term metallic, and so on. If the temperature of the coin is raised, a corresponding effect is produced by the change of molecular movement. The Professor holds that the molecule, itself "intangible, invisible, and hard to be conceived, is the only true matter;" that the space covered by the motion of the molecules, which is the mass that we call matter, whether gaseous, fluid, or solid, "has no more right to be called matter than the air traversed by a rifle bullet can be called lead....... From this point of view, then, matter is but a mode of motion."

ure.

PROGRESS OF ENGINEERING IN AMERICA.

Until the close of the last century, natural power had ever been employed in its most primitive forms. Wind and water were the only motive powers called in to aid man in his labors; and the appliances to utilize them were of the simplest possible character. It is true, some great engineering works were undertaken and completed; but only at large expenditure of mere labor and muscle. But with the introduction of steam, in 1778, a new and wide field was opened up for the exercise of the genius of the engineer and mechanic. The invention of Watts was a triumph which set men to thinking, and its successful application contributed more to the prosperity and welfare of nations, and the advancement of science and mechanism, in the next succeeding century, than had been achieved by the united efforts of all previous time. Perhaps in no part of the world has it given birth to greater activity, or accomplished greater triumphs, than in the United States. At a late meeting of civil engineers in St. Louis, a very interesting paper was read by Mr. O. Chanute, summarizing the progress and wonderful growth which engineering has made in this country, and alluding to the high position which