mous. The coast range of mountains that form the territory occupied from lat. 54° 40′ to lat. 60° is a continuation of the Sierra Nevada chain, in which lie the gold and silver mines of Nevada and California and of British Columbia. On the Stikine River gold has already been discovered, and miners are at work. The same formation reaches across towards Asia by the Aliaska peninsula, and sends a branch towards the Icy Sea. Indications of gold have also been found in the streams of the upper peninsula. Copper is known to exist in a virgin state, similar to that of Lake Superior, on the Copper River and at points along the Pacific coast. Lieutenant Pease found a copper-bearing rock at Cape Romanzoff, in Behring's Sea. Indications of lead were discovered by Lieutenant Zagoyskin in the lower part of the Kvihpak or Yukon. Iron has been found in several places on the Pacific coast, and worked by the Russians. Coal is known to lie in large beds on the northern coast. The natives report it in different parts of the interior. On the voyage down the Kvihpak, when two days' sail below Nulato, the natives pointed out a hill on the right, and told Lieutenant Pease that coal was found there, and that it had been worked to a small extent for native use. At Ounga Island, west of the Kodiak group, a bed of coal of inferior quality, about sixteen inches thick, is exposed on the hillside, and has been worked to a limited extent by the Russians. In the Kodiak group coal of better quality has been found, and worked successfully. The climate of the Pacific coast is much more temperate than that of the same latitudes on the coast of the Atlantic. The observations of Baron Wrangell at Sitka, for a period of ten years, gave a yearly mean of 46.4°. This, in lat. 57° 3' N., is a mean temperature four degrees warmer than that of Portland, Maine, in lat. 43° 40' N., and six degrees warmer than that of Quebec, in lat. 46° 49' N. Iluluk, on the Aliaska peninsula, in lat. 53° 52' N., has a mean temperature of 39.7°, the same as that of Williamstown, Vt., in lat. 44° 7′ N., and four degrees warmer than that of Copper Harbor, Lake Superior. At Sitka, it is said to rain nearly, if not quite, every day in the year. The harbor is always open, and there is not sufficient ice for the use of the inhabitants. Along the Aliaska peninsula, solid and clear ice is obtained for the supply of the markets of the Pacific coast. On Sitka and the islands of that group the valleys afford abundant grass for animals, and the settlers keep some cows and horses. Vegetables, such as potatoes, turnips, cabbages, and radishes, are raised with ease, and come to perfection. Potatoes are raised also at Cook's Inlet, in lat. 61° N., though they will not ripen at Kamchatka, ten degrees farther south, thus showing the great difference in temperature between the east and west coasts. At St. Michael, in Norton Sound, lat. 63° 28′ N., the occupants of the post cultivate a small garden, and raise turnips and radishes. The experiment has not been tried in the interior, but success would not be improbable, as the country abounds in edible roots. The temperature falls as the distance from the coast is increased. The yearly mean at Ikagmut, on the Lower Yukon or Kvihpak, in lat. 61° 47' N., long. 161° 14′ W., about one hundred and fifty miles from the coast, was 24.57°. At Fort Yukon, about six hundred miles in a straight line from Behring's Sea, the yearly mean was 16.92°, in lat. 64° N. At Ikagmut mercury froze in February and March on several years. As the mean of ten years' observation, ice forms on the Kvihpak November 4th, and breaks up May 23d, the river being free of ice about June 2d. The average period during which the river remains closed is two hundred days. In many places, if not throughout the main-land, "ground ice" is found at a varying depth. In winter the soil freezes solid, and in summer thaws out to a depth varying from a few inches to several feet, below which lies the permanently frozen subsoil to the depth of several feet. Zagoyskin relates that, in digging a well at St. Michael, alternate layers of ground ice and a fatty clay were passed through; and Lieutenant Pease reports having dug at St. Michael, in August, to the depth of thirty inches, when ground ice was reached. At Ikagmut, Zagoyskin reports the soil thawed to the depth of seven inches only. In exploring a route for the Russian American Telegraph line in lat. 55° N., long. 126° W., Major Pope reports that ground ice can be found at any time of the year at a depth of six or eight feet below the surface, and the surface soil usually freezes to the depth of two feet in the winter, leaving an intervening stratum of unfrozen soil from four to six feet thick. "ground ice" does not prevent the growth of vegetation. The roots of trees do not penetrate it, but spread as on the surface of a flat rock. In the frozen soil of Kotzebue Sound, in the mouths of the Kvihpak, and in Bristol Bay, are found large deposits of fossil ivory, similar to that found in Siberia, and a considerable trade has been carried on in this article of com merce. The The inhabitants of Russian America are estimated at five or six thousand Russians, mostly settled on the islands of the Pacific coast, and about fifty or sixty thousand Esquimaux and Indians. The natives are divided into numerous tribes, varying greatly in their habits and traditions. The Esquimaux occupy the coast and the lower part of the rivers having their outlet in Behring's Sea. Differing greatly from each other in many of their characteristics, they differ still more as a whole from the Esquimaux of the Arctic regions to the eastward of Russian America. They live by fishing, and hunting the reindeer. The natives of the interior, classed by Richardson as the Kutchins, and known to the coast natives as KohYukons, and by other names, are of a totally different race, dressing more like the Indians of the lower latitudes, with an outer dress of furs for winter wear; adorning themselves with beads, which constitute their wealth; and building their winter houses on the surface, instead of partly under ground, as do the Esquimaux. They live by the chase, and trade occasionally with the British factor at Fort Yukon, and, by means of the Ingaliken, with the coast natives and the Russians. They have an enmity towards the Russians, and have several times surprised their posts and slaughtered the occupants. For this reason the Russians have not penetrated far into the interior. The Americans attached to the telegraph expedition found no difficulty in dealing with them, and Lieutenant Pease says he has left many friends among both Esquimaux and Indians. On the Pacific coast and islands there are other tribes, those belonging to the Kodiak and Aleutian groups being allied to the Esquimaux of Behring's Sea, and the natives of the Sitka group and coast, the Tchilkats, being evidently related by language and habits to the tribes of the Upper Yukon. By long contact with the white settlers and the sailors visiting the coast, they have become degraded and debauched. The men are semi-slaves to the Russians, working for the nominal wages of twenty cents per day. The women are very dissolute. By treaty made during the present year, the whole of the Russian possessions in North America are ceded to the United States, in consideration of the payment of seven million two hundred thousand dollars in gold, the cession including the islands in Behring's Sea, as also the whole of the Aleutian Islands, leaving to Russia only Behring's Island and Copper Island, off the coast of Kamchatka. By the terms of the treaty, all the franchises and leases granted to corporate bodies or individuals, of whatever nation, terminate on the transfer of the territory. The known wealth of the territory in fish, fur, and timber, and its probable mineral wealth, have already been set forth. To what has already been said may be added the opinion expressed in Blodgett's Climatology of the Northwestern Districts: "It is most surpris ing that so little is known of the great islands, and the long line of coast from Puget's Sound to Sitka, ample as its resources must be even for recruiting the transient commerce of the Pacific, independent of its immense intrinsic value. To the region bordering the Northern Pacific the finest maritime positions belong throughout its entire extent; and no part of the west of Europe exceeds it in the advantages of equable climate, fertile soil, and commercial accessibility of the coast. The western slope of the Rocky Mountain system may be included as a part of this maritime region, embracing an immense area from the forty-fifth to the sixtieth parallel, and five degrees of longitude in width. The cultivable surface of this district cannot be much less than three hundred thousand square miles." ritory, on the main-land, belongs to The greater part of this valuable terGreat Britain; but only about four hundred miles of the British possessions front on the coast. An outlet for the remainder was provided by the leasing from the Russians of the strip George Simpson, who, as Governor-inof main-land up to Cross Sound. Sir territories, visited the coast up to that chief of the Hudson's Bay Company's point, mentions the lease with great satisfaction, adding, that "this strip, in the absence of such an arrangement as has just been mentioned, renders the interior comparatively useless to England." The Russo-American treaty of 1867 puts an end to the " arrangement." THE AMONG THE HE players are no longer "the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time." The Associated Press, the telegraph, and "Our Own Correspondent' have usurped their functions in this behalf, and so far their occupation's gone. Yet we should not the less worthily bestow them; for where dignity, self-respect, and honor go hand in hand with genius in the person of the player, he still has claims akin to those of the poet whose passion, feeling, and humor he interprets. We are not of those who hold that the stage is in its decadence; that all the great players went out about the time the grandfathers of the present generation ceased to frequent the theatre. There are many noble actors still upon the stage, and few have been more richly endowed with those talents which are the life and honor of the theatre, than the players who are altogether of the present time. is an old fellow, garrulous as ourThere selves, occupying the adjoining desk COMEDIANS. in our down-town office, whose mind is a storehouse of pleasant recollections of the players who fretted their brief "They are all gone now," he says, rehour upon the stage in his prime. gretfully, as if all good acting and the glory of the drama had gone down into dons, Kemble, and Kean delighted the their graves with them. The Sidtown in his London days, but the that of "Old Jefferson,” our own “Old name on which he lingers longest is Joe," whom he saw later, - a famous actor then, as any of the last generawith all our memories of his excellence tion of play-goers will tell you. Yet still fresh, and after carefully weighing posed to believe that his son, "Young all contemporary criticism, we are disJoe," is at least his worthy successor. Those who contest the palm with him are Mr. John Sleeper Clarke, sometime pupil of Mr. Jefferson, Mr. John E. Owens, and William Warren, ager and comedian. son of that great William Warren, man The style of acting of each, if not always original, is marked by strong personal characteristics; and as regards Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Owens, they may be fairly considered from their impersonation of one or two characters. Whatever natural powers or acquired abilities they possess are best shown in the rendition of certain parts of vivid individuality which they have made peculiarly their own. Mr. Owens seems almost inseparably connected with Solon Shingle, and Mr. Jefferson may be content to allow his fame to rest upon his personation of Rip Van Winkle. It is an accepted dogma in dramatic art, that whatever is presented on the stage must necessarily be measurably enlarged and exaggerated, or, as it were, looked at through a mental as well as a material lorgnette; that in no other wise can the fictions of the stage be made real to the senses of the spectator. In consequence of the actor's belief in this theory, he is apt to represent all shades and degrees of passion through the medium of exaggerated tone, stride, and gesture. And indeed it seems without the bounds of reason to suppose, that, should the tragedian speak the words of Hamlet in his ordinary tones of feeling, he would very adequately express the sublimity and weirdness of Hamlet's griefs, doubts, and struggles, or show, as in a mirror, the subtile depths of his nature. And yet, after witnessing the rendition of the character of Rip Van Winkle by Mr. Jefferson, we are disposed to think that, if he who enacted Hamlet possessed the genius of this comedian, he might show us such a portrait of the Dane as no one has seen since Betterton, without exaggeration of tone or robustious action, charmed the town in that part. In the play of "Rip Van Winkle," the scant material of Irving, borrowed by him from the German, is eked out by the skill of the dramatist into a play of moderate excellence, but admirably adapted to display Mr. Jefferson's peculiar powers. From the moment of Rip's entrance upon the scene, - for it is Rip Van Winkle, and not Mr. Jefferson, the audience has assurance that a worthy descendant of the noblest of the old players is before them. He leans lightly against a table, his disengaged hand holding his gun. Standing there, he is in himself the incarnation of the lazy, good-natured, dissipated, good-for-nothing Dutchman that Irving drew. Preponderance of humor is expressed in every feature, yea, in every limb and motion of the light, supple figure. The kindly, simple, insouciant face, ruddy, smiling, lighted by the tender, humorous blue eyes, which look down upon his dress, elaborately copied bit by bit from the etchings of Darley; the lounging, careless grace of the figure; the low, musical voice, whose utterances are "far above singing"; the sweet, rippling laughter, - all combine to produce an effect which is rare in its simplicity and excellence, and altogether satisfying. The impersonation is full of what are technically known as points; but the genius of Mr. Jefferson divests them of all "staginess," and they are only such points as the requirements of his art, its passion, humor, or dignity, suggest. From the rising of the curtain on the first scene, until its fall on the last, nothing is forced, sensational, or unseemly. The remarkable beauty of the performance arises from nothing so much as its entire repose and equality. The scene, however, in which the real greatness of the player is shown in his "so potent art," is the last scene of the first act. It is marvellously beautiful in its human tenderness and dignity. Here the debauched goodfor-nothing, who has squandered life, friends, and fortune, is driven from his home with a scorn pitiless as the stormfilled night without. The scene undoubtedly owes much to the art of the dramatist, who has combined the broadest humor in the beginning with the deepest pathos at the close. Here there is "room and verge enough" for the amplest display of the comedian's power. And the opportunities are no bly used. His utterance of the memorable words, "Would you drive me out like a dog?" is an unsurpassed expression of power and genius. His sitting with his face turned from the audience during his dame's tirade, his stunned, dazed look as he rises, his blind groping from his chair to the table, are all actions conceived in the very noblest spirit of art. In a moment the lazy drunkard, stung into a new existence by the taunts of his vixenish wife, throws off the shell which has encased his better self, and rises to the full stature of his manhood, — a man sorely stricken, but every inch a man. All tokens of debauchery are gone; vanished all traces of the old careless indolence and humor. His tones, vibrating with the passion that consumes him, are clear and low and sweet,-full of doubt that he has heard aright the words of banishment, full of an awful pain and pity and dismay. And so, with one parting farewell to his child, full of a nameless agony, he goes out into the storm and darkness. The theatre does not "rise at him": it does more, —gives finer appreciation of the actor's power; it is deadly silent for minutes after, or would be, but for some sobbing women there. After a scene so effective, in which the profoundest feelings of his auditors are stirred, the task of the comedian in maintaining the interest of the play becomes exceedingly onerous; but Mr. Jefferson nowhere fails to create and absorb the attention of his audience. One scene is enacted as well as another; and that he not always creates the same emotion is not his fault, but that of the dramatist. The player is always equal to the requirements of his art. The versatility of Mr. Jefferson's powers is finely shown in the scene of Rip's awaking from his sleep in the Catskills, and in those scenes which immediately follow. Here he has thrown off his youth, his hair has whitened, his voice is broken to a childish treble, his limbs are shrunken, tottering, very palsied. This maundering, almost im [June, becile old man, out of whose talk come dimly, rays of the old quaint humor, would excite only ridicule and laughter in the hands of an artist less gifted than affections, so rise up through the tones Mr. Jefferson; but his griefs, his old of that marvellous voice, his loneliness and homelessness so plead for him, that old Lear, beaten by the winds, deserted about with honor than poor old Rip, and houseless, is not more wrapped wandering through the streets of his native village. chief power it is not easy to show. Exactly wherein lies Mr. Jefferson's With the genius inherited from "Old Joe," he possesses a mind richly stored, edge of his art which teaches the force a refined taste, and that rare knowlof repression as well as expression. scientious student. Mr. Jefferson is also a close and conThe words that flow from his tongue in such liquid resonance seem the very simplest of utterances. And so they are; but it would be interesting to know how many hours of study it cost him to arrive at that simplicity which is the crowning charm and secret of success. Why, in the very speaking of his daughter's name in peal to her for recognition, the last scene, in that matchless aptenderness, and beauty that charms like Meenie," there is a depth of pathos, "Meenie, music, and attunes the heart to the finest sense of pity. There is but one other artist withfacial mobility or expression of Mr. Jefin our knowledge possessing the rare ferson, whose features are at all times the running commentary of the text. sentences, or even parts of sentences, In the momentary pauses between his face foretells the coming bursts of charged summer sky presages the lighthumor or pathos, as surely as the overning's flash. The wide blue eyes and lustrative of the artist's power as the the nervous, sensitive mouth are as ilsages. utterance of the most sonorous pas is full of an indescribable grace, seems This actor, whose every movement never to attitudinize. Whatever he |