MISCELLANEOUS.

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume v, Issue 415, 25 July 1849, Page 3

MISCELLANEOUS.

Already^ in the Unned States, we Jjave the first volume, of Macaulay's History of. England announced in two weeks' publications of a newspaper, at a cost of threepence.. Mr. John O'.Connell has published a letter in which he says — ** Paltry poverty hay driven me into temporary exile ;" in humbler prose, he has obtained,. we understand, a respectable situation in a r common establishment in London. The grant of Vancouver's Island to the Hudson's Bay Company, and the plans for immediate colonisation were advertised. All profits from sales of land or the working of minerals, .beyond 10 per cent., are to be applied towards the colonisation and improvement of the island. The colony is to be governed by a Governor,. with a Council of seven members appointed by the Crown, and a House of Assembly elected by the inhabitants, twenty acres of laud being the electoral qualification. The ports and harbours are to be .free to all nations. General Cavaignac received a few days ago » box from Jjondon containing a maguificeijt Urn lervie* in Queen's metal,' with an intcrip-

tion :—": — " Offered to General Cavaignac, by an EngSish manufacturer, as a testimony of esteem and admiration for bis noble character and patriotism." The person making the present did not communicate his name.

The Valley of the Sacramento. — Thii rtlley is the first undoubtedly in California, and one of the most magnificent in the world. It is about 500 miles Jong, with an average width of about fif'y miles. It is bounded on the east by the Greet Snowy Mountains, and on the west by the low range, which- in many places dwindles into insignificant hills, and has its northern terminus at the Strait of Carquines, on the Bay of San Fiancisco, and its southern near the Colorado river. The river of San Joaquim flows through the middle of the valley for about half of its extent, and then diverges towards the eastern mountain, in which it has its source. About sixty miles further south is the northern end of the Beuona Vista lake, which is about 100 miles long, and from ten to twenty wide. Still further souths and near the western side of the valley, is another and much smaller lake. The great lake receives about a dozen tributaries on its eastern side, which all rise in the great range of the Snowy Mountains. Some of these tireams flow through broad and fertile valleys within the mountains' range, and from thence emerging, irrigate the plains of the great valley for the distance of twenty or thirty miles. The largest of ihesp' rivers is Celled by the Spanish inhabitants the River Reyes, and falls into the lake near its northern end ; it is a well timbered stream, and flows through a country of great fertility and .beauty. The tributaries of the San Joaquim are all on the east side. On ascending the stream we first meet with the Stanislaus, a clear, rapid, mountain stream, some forty or fifty yards wide, with a considerable depth of water in its lower portion. The Mormcns have commenced a settlement, called New Hope, and built some two or three houses nrar the mouth. There are considerable bodies of fertile lands along the river, and the higher plains afford some good pasturage. Ten miles higher up is the river of the Tawalomes ; :t is about the size of the Stanislaus, which it greatly resembles, except that the so 1 is somewhat better, and that it particularly abounds with salmon. Some thirty miles farther comes in the Merced, much the largest of the tributaries cf the San Joaquim. The lands along Beuona Vista form a fine pastoral region, with a good proportion of arable land,' and a very inviting field for emigration. The whole of this region has been but imperfectly Explored ; enough, however, is known, to make it certain that it is one of the most desirable regions on the continent. In the valleys of the rivers which come down from the great snowy mountains, are vast bodies of pine, and red wood, or cedar timber, and the streams afford water power to any desirable amount. The whole country east of San Joaquim and the water communication which connects it with the lakes, is considered by the best judges, to be particularly adap'ed to the culture of the vine, which must necessarily become one of the principal agricultural resources of California. — Ibid. The ol I times were, not good times, at least for servants. Here is a deed which, now-a-days, would be deemed most brutal and unmanly, recorded in Pepys' Diary," as rather commendable than otherwise : — " December 1, 1660. This morning, observing some things to be laid up not as they should be by my girl, 1 took a broom and basted her till she cried extremely."

The Women of Montenegro* — Though able, the men are seldom inclined to carry anything, or to take any trouble they ran transfer to the women, who are the beasts of burden in Montenegro ; and I have seen women toiling up the steepest hills, under loads which men seldom carry in other countries,' They ace, therefore, very inuscuhtr and strong ; and the beauty they frequently possess is soon lost by the hard and coarse complexions they acquire ; their youth being generally exhausted by laborious and unfeminine occupations. The sheaves of Indian corn, the bundles of wood, and everything required for the house or the granary are carried by women ; and the men are supposed to be too much interested about the nobler pu suits of war or pillage to have time to alien \ to meaner labours.— -Sir J. Gardner Wilkinson,

Romantic Generosity. — Some twentyfire or thirty years ago, there resided in London an'ojd sergeant of artillrry. The person, in the course of his duties, by some mea:s or other, had been brought into frequent contact with Sir Francis Burdett, who had conceived a high opinion of the sergeant. One morning Sir Francia chanced to meet his h amble friend in the street; and observing him to look a little mere anxious than usual, kindly said to him—-" Well, N-^ r what are you about ? You are looking duller than usual ; has anything happened.?" " Nothing.,-very.-particular, your Honour," w«» (be rtply,

"only my .wife lias" pot a son this morning — and — and— Sir Francis, now I think of it, and )ou have no objection, I should like to name him after you." >r Surely, surely," said the amiable ol'i gentleman ; " but remember, N — , when he grows up, to bring me in mind of this — perhaps I may be able to do something for the boy." The ceremony of baptism over, at which Sir Francis appeared as gndfather, "nothing more is said to have past at the time. The Hon. Baronet, in the course of years was g. thered to his lathers ; as was also the old sergeant. The boy meanwhile had been promoted to the situation of mate of a merchant vessel. A few weeks ago, while in Liverpool, the young mau saw what he thought a good opportunity of purchasing half of a vessel on his own account ; but not being possessed of sufficient means, he wrote to his friends in Edinburgh to inquire if they could assist in the purchase. The idea now occurred to one of the young man's brothers that he might take it upon him to make Sir Francis's heir aware of the former promise of her uncle ; and a letter was accordingly sent to Miss Burdett Coutts, detailing the circumstances, and enclosing the young man's certificate of character The reply to this note was received in the last week, and was couched in that magnificent style in which the l.idy has become celebrated. It contained no vain words, but a bank cheque for not less than £1000. This story is a literal fact. — Edinburgh f\e\s.

A Fable. — Once upon a time, a man, somewhat in drink belike, raised a dreadful outcry at (lie corner of the market-place, " That the world was turned all topsy-turvy; that the men and cattle were all walking with their feet uppermost ; that the houses and earth at large (if they did not mind it) would fall into the sky ; in short, that unless prompt means were taken, things in general were on the high road to the devil." As the people only laughed at him, he cried the louder and more vehemently ; nay, at last, began abjuring, foaming, imprecating ; when a goodnatured auditor, going up, took the orator by the haunches, and boftly invertng his position, set him down — on his feet. The winch upon perceiving, I. is mind was staggered not a little. "Ha ! deuce take it !" cied he, rubbing his eyes, •' So it was not the world that was hanging by its feet, then, but 1 that was standing on my head !" Censor, Castigator mot urn, Radical Reformer, by whatever name thou art called, have a rare ; especially if thou a*t geui»g loud J— Carlyle.

" Happy Home." — A young tnan meets a pretty face in the ball room, falls in love with ir, courts it, " marries v," goes to housekeeping with it, and boasts of having a home to go to and a wife. The chances are, nine to ten he has neither. Her pretty face gets to be an old story — or becomes faded or freckled or fretted — and as that face was all he wanted, all he " paid attention to," all he sat up with, all he bargained for, all he swore to " love, honour, ami protect*' — he pets sick of his trade ; knows a dozen faces which he likes better ; gives up staying at home at evenings ; consoles himself with cigars, oysters, whisky punch, and politics, and looks upon his " home" as a very indifferent boarding-house. A family of children grow up about him ; but neither he nor his " lace" knows anything about training them : so they come up helterskelter — made toys of when babies, dolls when boys and girls, drudges 'when yout q men and women ; and so passes year after year, and not one quiet, happy, hearty, homely hour is known throughout the whole household. Another youn.; man becomes enamoured of a "fortune." He waits upon it to parties, •lances the polka with it, exchanges billet dnux with it, pops the question to it, gets " yes" from it, is published to it, takes it to the pardon's, weds it, calls it " irife," carries it home, sets up an establishment with it, introduces it' to his friends, and says (poor fellow !) thai he, too,* is .married, and has got a home. It's a lie. He is not married ; be has no home. And he soon finds it out. He is in the wrong box, but it is too. late to get out of it. He might as well hope to escape ftom his coffin. Friends congratulate him, and he has to grin and bear it. They praise the house, the furniture, the cradle, the new bible, the newer baby, and then bid the " fortune" and him who " husbands" ir, good morning. Good morning! As if he had known a good morning since he and that gilded •• fortune" were falsely declared to be one. Take another case. A young woman is smitten with a pair of whiskers. Curled hair never before hid such charms. She sets her cap for them. They tak*. The delighted whiskers makes an offer, first one, then the other, proffering themselves both in exchange for her one heart. The dear miss is overcome with magnanimity, closes the bargain, carries home her prize, shows it pa and ma, calls herself engaged to it, tbinks there never was such a pair (of whiskers) before, and in * few weeks they are married. Married,!. : ¥es, life world calls it ! so, and we will. What it tb» result ? A». ort honeymoon, sod then

the unlucky discovery, that .they are as unlike .as chalk and cheese, and not to be made ojpe, though all the priests in Christendom pronounced them »o. — Burritt's Christian Cv then.

A Yankee Horse Dealer.—" Morning to you, squire !" he said, in his accustomed loud tone and familiar manner. " 1 am- glad to see you. I have been waiting for you for some time, to look at a horse I have hero, that will just suit you. He is great, that's a fact ; a peifect case, I assure you. He can trot his mile in two minutes and thirty se-, conds, and no break, shuffle rack, or pace, but a handsome rrund trot, with splendid knee action ; not pawing the air like make believe, nor pounding the road like breaking stones, but a sort of touch- me-light-and-go-easy style, like the beat of a gal's finger on ihe pianny ; and so gentle, a child can manage him. When you want him to go, take up the reins and he's off like a fox ; when you want him to stop, throw them down, and he'll stand all day. The way he makes the spokes fly round, in a wheel, so that you can only see the rim, as if it was a hoop, is amazing. It frightened me at first, and I ain't easy scared by a horse. He is a sa-perior animal, beyond all doubt. I never was suited befoie in my life,, and I don't know as he ain't spoilt me, so I shall he suited again. Sometimes I can't part with him any how, for I can't never get another like him ; and sometimes I take a notion into my head I ought to sell him, as it is too much money for a poor man like me to have in a horse. Oh, he's a doll ! His sinews are all scorpion tails and whipcords, and he's muscle enough for two beasts of his size. You can't fault him in no particular, for he is perfect, bead or neck, shoulder or girth, back or loins, stifle or hock, or chest and bastions ; and as for hoofs, they actually seem as if they were made for a trotter. In fact, you may see he's the greatest piece of stuff ever wrapped up in a horse hide. Come and look at him, and judge ior yourself. My price is two fifty ; but if you like him, say the word, and he is your's at two hundred dollar.*, for I'd like you to have him." — " Squire Barclay," said a man, who had just removed a pipe from his mouth lor the purpose of placing it with.* tumbler of rum and water, — ' Squire, you hmve heard Zeb Hunt talk afore to-day, I reckon. I have been listening to him while he has been running on like a mill-wheel, a-praising liis horse up to the very time as the pink of all perfection ; but he never said a word about Itis soundness, do you mark ? If you intend to make a trade with him, I guess you bad better be wide awake, for he is too much for most folks : a man must rise early in the morning to catch him napping." — " What's that you say, you leather-lipped rascal ?" retorted i he Pippin, as he advanced menacingly towar is his accuser, " How dare you put in your oar when gentlemen are bantering for a trade, y«.u ewe-jiecked, cat-hammed, sha'lbuilt, lop-eared, _onderbread villain? You measure other folks' corn with your own bushel, and judge yoar neighbours by yourself; — about as bad a standard as you'll find anywhere. Squire," he continued, turning away with apparent contempt from the man who had traduced him, "if there is any one thing I pride myself upon in the world, it is on being canili 1. I am straight up and down ; what I say I mean, and what I mean I'll stand to. I take all mankinl to be rogues, more or less, and what's more, canting Hypocriiicdl rogues, too ; for they pretend they are honest, all the time they are cheating the world and the devil. Now, lam straightforward, open and above board. I pretend to nothing. I won't say I'll not get the ad vantage if I can in a horse trade, or any other trade. I don't deny it, I avow it open. What sort of a deal would it be, were I to get the disadvantage always ? Why, in six months I shouldn't have a horse to trade with ; for, what is trade, if you come to that, but gambling with the chances in your favour ? lam not bound to tell my horsed faults. I'doh't like to dwell on the faults of my friends ; I praise their virtues. People don't cfy stinki'lg fish, in a giniral way, iv any market I was ever in yet, because folks have noses, and can smell foi themselves. 1 don't talk of sprains, curbs, and ring-bones : people have eyes, and can see for themselves ; and, if they are too plaguy careless to look, whose fault is that? No, sir, I scorn a dirty thing. I conceal nothing. I say, publicly, I expect the advantage in a bargain ; and if I can't get it, I don't trade.' That's my rule, sjr ; and I don't care who knows it. I hate and despise pretence. The world's full of it. Everyman, in a ghiiral way, has more cloaks to cover his viliany than shirts to cover his back. — The bid Judge, by the author of Sam Slick. _ . .

«Vhist. — Punch's recent question, •• Will Louis Napoleon lead up to the King or play the deuce?" has created a. sensation over all the world ; and rather than keep the whole world waiting, for an answer, Punch will give one hi(nself : — Louis Napoleon will not- lead up to tbe king, but if he should get out all the knaves, with the assistance of a few

trumps, he may, perhaps, make, the honour. he : now,K'as in his hands. If, on the'contfary, henries' to win by treks; the elder hands will pfotiSbiy'/get jhe gamS by the honours falling to'lheir'stiare in another deal' of the cards. His. best suit to rely upon at present is hearts, while his opponents are ratlier .strong in clubs. But much will depend on the next game t!hat is played;' "for" there Is the rub." It has since been suggested to us, by an ingenious Liverpool friend', that Prince Louis Napoleon may not only adopt both" the courses suggested in our original query,' but that also*, before the game is up, he will have to " Cut for Deal" in a fishing-boat. — Punch.