The author, while often dramatic and always forceful, never eliminates or glosses over the crooked human side of every character, and even the real hero of the tale-Dr. Weston-has a secret fault which he only overcomes through undertaking the rescue of a soul far more deeply cursed than his own, whose reformation so ennobles his own nature that its tainted weakness becomes impossible. While it possesses the small faults of a first publication, still the book is human, logical, ingenious and natural. Its characters teem with life, not the stilted story telling life, but the down-right, real thing. The story begins with a robbery, successfully consummated by father and son, who gloat over their luck. The father is the incarnate type of every vice inherited through successive generations, and augmented by his own villainy and degradation. Hated and feared by the entire country-side, brutal and vicious and untrustworthy, still one human being loves him. His boy, and youthful partner in crime, loves and admires him. This is not strange, considering the fact that the boy's whole short life had been spent in an atmosphere of crime, and morbid dissertations against the law and order of the land. Compelled to shoot the father in self-defense, the officers vindicate themselves before an impromptu jury, while the boy, stupid with misery, utterly friendless, listens sullenly until blame is imputed to his dead father. Then with fearful passion, he cries: "You lie! Dad didn't try to kill you! You shot him down like a dog, and now to clear yourselves, you say you had to do it. It's an infernal lie, and I won't stand here and let you abuse poor dad any longer!"

While the boy, maddened into a delirium, insults and repudiates every liv ing soul, a stronger spirit than his and a nature blessed with gentle human pity.

enters, and Dr. Weston rescues this poor sport of a tainted heredity, transplanting him into a new world of purity and refinement. Through all the following years this new interest in life is gradually reclaiming the good Doctor from his secret sin against himself and future generations-the deadly and degrading morphine habit.

With the introduction of the two women, representing opposite types, and the wicked, revengeful Indian, the story increases in intensity of power, and the climax is too unusual and dramatic to spoil by describing. All through the story the fearful results of a corrupted heredity are vividly portrayed, and the mighty, unequal battle between virtue and inherited vice is pictured by a master-hand. Even Josephine, the dark beauty whose fascinations led men to ruin, and whose nature arouses our worst condemnation, even she-child of crime--compels pity as she cries, for once being honest with herself:

"You condemn me, papa condemns me, the world condemns me, for what you are pleased to call my wantonness. Do you condemn the lionness for her fierceness, the rattle-snake for its venomous sting? Can you change the nature of the beasts, or serpents, by simple disapprobations? Would you not have to revise the laws of the universe first? Then why condemn me? The blood of India flows in my veins, the desires and cravings of that blood are handed down to me through a thousand generations. Can you undo the work of centuries, and imbue me with the sluggish blood of the Anglo-Saxon?"

This pitiful, distorted nature is in contrast with the noble, unselfish Maurine. In the capable finale, when heredity is at last subdued (if not conquered) by the loving influence of purity, we close the book with only one dominant feeling permeating us, namely: how true it is, how human and what a solemn trust is imposed upon all in this world who perpetuate the race and launch innocent souls into the world with only, at first, the indelible handwriting of Heredity upon their whiteness.

We predict a success for this startling story, and congratulate its talented author.

Situated in a quiet retreat among the picturesque wooded foot-hills on the southern slope of Howell mountain, is the St. Helena Sanitarium, which enjoys a wide and enviable reputation. It is one of the leading health resorts on the Coast, and its location is peculiarly attractive. Only three miles from St. Helena, good roads leading up the pretty slope, and prompt and comfortable carriage-service, make the sanitarium readily accessible. This institution is located in the thermal belt, at an elevation of 760 feet above the sea. Back of the cheerful main building is a cool, attractive forest of shade and mystery.

Upon a Sunday afternoon, nothing is more invigorating than a drive up Howell Mountain behind two strong, sturdy horses, and a careful driver. Up and up and up we go, every abrupt turn refreshing us with a view of the valley that paralyzes à pen. At one point we plainly see the Napa Soda Springs in the far distance. At another point we view the two desolate trees commonly known as "Adam and Eve." It is a peculiar fact that these two trees can be discerned away down the valley, and their name originated from their age and appearance. "Adam" is very tall and spare, and is not vested. "Eve" has a little foliage, which the vulgar mind terms clothing. So these two spectral trees stand there amid storm and sunshine, and when at last one or both must fall a vague, superstitious chill will strike the inhabitants of this valley.

Perhaps here a word should be said of Howell Mountain in particular. This fertile plateau, eight miles from St. Helena, is 1600 feet above the sea, and is

a great wine-growing section. Besides, it is invested with an historic and superstitious interest. Tremendous trees grow there, and its location in the thermal belt (where every tender plant may be grown), presents a climate which is very attractive to invalids.

Anguin's Hotel, high upon the mountain, is a favorite summer resort.

Returning down the mountain to the Sanitarium, we pass a farmer's cottage in the front yard of which stands a curious, carved image of a woman. There is nothing beautiful about this figure, but it simply arouses interest because of its age and oddity. It was supposed to have been erected over the remains of a settler's wife. If the wife looked like this image, it is perhaps just as well for the husband that she is dead.

The main building of the Sanitarium is a commodious five-story structure, furnished with elevators, steam heat, electric bells and lights, and other modern conveniences. The parlors are bright and luxurious. The outside sloping piazzas connect every floor with the ground, a great advantage for invalids. Numer

ous cottages and tents nestle among the trees, and there is a fine gymnasium and chapel in conjunction with the place.

Every essential for health and pleasure of a rural nature is here, and the eighty rooms for guests are always occupied. The treatment rooms are splendidly equipped, and the volunteer workers most energetic and cheery. Mr. Bell, in his book, says of the Sanitarium folk: "There you will find a strange sect grouped in a colony about the famousCrystal Springs, where the members greet each other as brother and sister, maintaining an asceticism better fitted for the Saints of the Middle Ages. They are deeply pious, these 'Seventh Day Adventists,' and consistent in their religious belief. They make good members of society, and are jealous in protecting and enforcing the plain principles of justice." Certainly there is a cheer and zest about this complete sanitarium, and a simple, well-lived creed, which compels the respect of all who visit it.

Down the hill from the Sanitarium is the Health Food Company's factory, from which thousands of pounds of Sani

tarium Health foods are shipped. These health food factories are wide-spread throughout the country, and their goods are sent all over California, Oregon, Nevada, Arizona, Utah, as well as to Alaska, Honolulu, Australia, New Zealand and Japan. Their goods are now extensively advertised by catalogues, price-lists, samples, etc., at fairs, in grocery shops, in newspapers and magazines. This St. Helena factory, in particular, is a wonderfully complete institution. Spotlessly clean in all departments, the dough is rarely touched by hand, and the immense ovens are kept busily at work all day long. It is intensely interesting to watch the various processes, and the many workers, and we predict a brilliant future for this St. Helena Health Food Company.

About a mile east of the Sanitarium, on the western side of Howell Mountain, is a deep cave extending far into the bowels of the earth. It is a mysterious place and as yet no human being has fathomed its secret recesses. For years no one ever entered it, and an almost impenetrable thicket has grown around its mouth. Great chambers, cut out of the white clay by the turbulent waters of early ages from time to time, "relieved

the narrow passage-way of its oppressiveness." Once or twice of recent years a bold spirit has ventured into its weird recesses, and one-a girl-penetrated further than anyone else, but even she succumbed finally to the dense blackness, foul odors and the awful gruesomeness of the place. How far the underground stream once flowed, or whence its sources flow, no one knows, for no one dares brave the terrors of that dark, narrow passage under Howell Mountain.

Rumor, of course, has been busy, and tales of a half-starved hermit with a romantic history, have floated around, but these Napa mountains are apt to develop the imagination, and the hermit must be taken "with a grain of salt," i he is taken at all.

Adjacent to St. Helena are many objects of interest to the tourist. The famous White Sulphur Springs, two miles distant, once presented a scene of "revelry and mirth," but are now a picturesque relic of a by-gone day. The winding road leading to these springs is very beautiful, and we can easily fancy the soft laughter, and the low murmurs of happy lovers in that time when the State was young.

The large stone winery of the California Wine Association (the largest in the State and costing $300,000); the Beringer places and extensive wineries; the big stone bridge; and the sanitarium, lie still toward the north.

Still journeying towards Calistoga we pass the interesting old Krug place, the pioneer winery of California. Right here seems the place to put in a few words concerning the grape culture and wine making of Napa County. This was one of the first counties to make dry, light wines from the grape, and Mr. Charles Krug was the pioneer-veteran in this industry. In 1858 he planted twenty acres in vines, and made the first wine ever produced in Napa County, for F. Pachett, on a small press constructed by himself. In 1860 he made 5,000 gallons for Colonel Yount, the old settler at Yountville. Mr. Krug found his first venture so successful that he went in for larger plantations, and built a large cellar near St. Helena. This was the beginning of grape culture in the country.