The Bangkok Recorder.

A Semi-monthly Journal, will be issued from the
printing office of the American Missionary As-
sociation, at the month of the Canal, "Klawng Bang-
kok Yai" about 1st and 15th of every month. It
will contain much Political, Literary, Scientific, Com-
mercial, and Local Intelligence, as shall render it
worthy of the general patronage.

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subject to the usual restrictions.

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sentiments of their correspondents.

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Messrs. Virgin & Co.

Bangkok August 16th.

It appears that an incipient rebellion has
really been quelled in this place. To what
extent thi[s] had gone, and what proportions
it had assumed is difficult to find out, as
there is evidently a disposition on the part
of those who know, to keep the matter
quiet. There are also any amount of ru-
mours afloat among the natives, so that it is
impossible to get any thing reliable. Some
rumours also implicate many of the principle
Siamese noblemen, and leading Chinamen
of the place. It is certain however that a
combination of Chinamen, but perhaps
nothing more than a secret society, has
been discovered which was assuming rather
alarming proportions. They also evidently
had in contemplation a strike of some kind
as a number of badges &c. has been discover-
ed, and are in the hands of the authorities.
The leader of the concern has been
disposed of in some way. The impression
is sent abroad that he has been banished to
China, but he has in all probability been
banished in such a way, that there is no
possibility of his ever returning to give any
further trouble.

Since our last issue the mail by the
French line has been receiv?ed here per
Pontianak but we have not been able to find
any later items of European news than
those already published-

In the United States the result of the
trial of the conspirators which has been
absorbing the attention of the country, had
not yet been published. Evidence suffi-
cient to implicate Jeff Davis to some ex-
tent in the conspiracy had been adduced.

A scheme has also been set afloat to
pay off the national debt by subscriptions
in shares of $10,000 each. The renowned
James Gordon Bennet, Editor and proprie-
tor of the New York Herald, claims to be
the originator of the scheme, and has him-
self subscribed four shares ($40,000). Some
of the other papers however deny that
Mr. Bennet is the originator of the plan,
and quote from the Springfield (Mass.) Re-
publican, showing that the scheme origi-
nated with some of the merchant princes
New York, some four months previous.
Cornelius Vanderbilt has headed the list
with $500,000. Bonner of the New York
Ledger and G. W. Childs of the Phila-
delphia Ledger give also each $40,000.

Arrangements are also being made by
which men of small capital can also con-
tribute. The affair once started must be
carried right through before it becomes a
drag. It is still however a matter of doubt
if the whole amount can be raised, the na-
tional debt is nearly $3,000,000,000, and
the amount subscribed is not quite
$2,000,000. Should the scheme succeed
there has been nothing in the history of
the world to equal it. Some of the lead-
ing papers however object to paying off
the debt speedily, either by subscription, or
direct taxation. It is contended that the
present system of taxation will liquidate
the debt in twenty years, those objecting
to the speedy liquidation of the debt say,
that the next generation have a right to
pay some of it, that the present generation
have borne their share and as the next
will reap the principle benefits of the war,
they should also bear some of the burden.

New Canal.

It appears that the new canal to the su-
gar districts of Nākawn-cheiséé has really
been commenced. We believe it is the
first great internal improvement undertaken
in Siam wholly for the purpose of facili-
tating trade. One or two other important
canals how been dug during the present
reign, but they appear to have been under-
taken moro for the purpose of gratifying
the lovers of pleasure than for the purpose of
facilitating the interral trade of the
country. It appears also, that the present
year has been rather a hard one upon the
royal treasury as well as upon the mer-
chants. In consequence of a deficiency in
the treasury the government has found it
necessary, to devise other means to obtain
funds for the completion of the canal just
commenced. Two plans were suggested for
that purpose. One was to grant the
contractor the privilege of imposing for a
certain length of time, say ten years, a
tax upon boats passing through the canal.
The only objection to this plan is that the
petty officers in charge of such things are
so accustomed to extort from the people,
for the purpose of replenishing there own
pockets and for which those imposed upon
can seldom if ever obtain redress. The
other plan was to pay the expenses by a
gambling scheme of some kind. Consid-
ering the propensities of the people for
gambling it was to be feared that they
would prefer this plan, but we are happy
to learn that the former plan has been
adopted. The work has been given by
contract to Poh Yim, which will insure its
more speedy completion than if done by
government directly. If the work is pro-
perly carried on it may be completed, at
least, by the commencement of the next
rainy season. It will also open up a great
section of country which has hitherto been
comparatively useless to any one for want
of proper means of communication.

These internal improvements once com-
menced, it is to be hoped they will be car-
ried on to a considerable extent. The
canals leading from here to Mahachei on
the Tachin and thence to the Meklong
need widening and deepening very much
in some places. Especially is this the
case at Ban Bon and Ma hon where the
tides meet. During certain seasons of the
years boats are often obliged to wait for
days, and even weeks for a tide sufficient
to carry them over the top of the hill.
Often-times, too, besides the loss of time in
waiting, the whole cargo is also spoiled,
which is not very encouraging to traders.
With a good dredging machine, (and we
believe there is one coming,) it would re-
quire but little expense to make those
places passable at any time. If it can't
be done otherwise, let it be done by taxing
the boats. Of course the new canal now
constructing will draw off some of the
trade from these canals but they must still
remain a great thoroughfare.

A canal is also needed to connect the
Meklong with the Bankaboon river so that
small boats from Petchaburee and other
places might avoid crossing the gulf which
is oftentimes dangerous. We learn that a
private individual has offered to undertake
the work upon the some plan of the Na-
kawneicheé canal, but has received no
response. The sooner government wakes
up to the importance of these things the
better.

Tuileries

The 20th of June was the forerunner of
a much more terrific day the famous
10th of August. The interval between
these two periods was marked by a succes-
sion of minor events, indicating by their
contradictory character the feverish and
uneasy state of the body politic.

On the 9th July the two conflicting par-
ties in the Assembly, the Constitutionalists
and the Republicans, agreed in a moment
of enthusiasm to forget their past differences,
and embracing, swore for the future to
labor together in harmony for the benefit
of their common country. This reconciliation
hardly lasted beyond the day on which
it was pronounced. On the 11th the As-
sembly declared the country in danger, and
restored Petion, who had been suspended.
from his functions as Mayor, by the depart-
mental Directory of Paris, for his conduct on
the occasion of the attack on the Tuileries.
On the following day, the anniversary of the
destruction of the Bastile, both he and the
King appeared at the F?te in the Champ de
Mars,—the one for the moment the triumph-
ing idol, the other the already bound and
all but sacrificed victim of that tyrannizing
populace, whose insatiable appetite for blood
was within a few months to destroy both.
It is said that in one of the speeches Petion
delivered on this occasion, the orator boldly
invited his auditors to join him in swearing
destruction to all Kings.

A circumstance which took place about
this time led to a curious and characteristic
display of the temper of the times. The
garden of the Tuileries after being opened
on the 8th was closed again in a few days;
but on the 25th the Assembly decreed that
the terrace des Tuileries, should be consid-
ered as comprehended within the precincts
of their Hall and hence accessible to the
people. To prevent persons who might as-
semble on this national ground from tres-
passing upon the garden, which was divided
from it only by a small low wall, with a
flight of steps at one end, it was ordered
that a tricolored ribbon should be suspend-
ed among the trees around the bounderies
of the terrace. No instance occurred of any
one violating this barrier, so weak in itself
and yet so strong in its appeal to the pride
and patriotism of the people. But M. d'Epre-
mesnil, who, although one of the most con-
spicious popular favorites in the early days
of the revolution, was now regarded as an
aristocrat, having made his appearance on
the Terrace, the rabble of armed Sans Cul-
lottes fell upon and severely wounded him,
and would have massacred him on the spot,
had not some members of the Assembly
come up on hearing his cries, and with
much duifficulty rescued him from their
hands. "Comme vous êtes à present J'
étais aussi l'edol de ce gens ce," Even as
you are now I also was the idol of the
people, said Epremisnet to Petion who
approached him as he lay bleeding and
exhausted immediately after his escape.

On the 25th July a band of twelve hun-
dred men arrived in Paris from Britany,
and on the 30th five hundred more from
Marseilles. The professed object of these
strangers, afterwards generally known by
the name of the Fédérés, was to aid the
citizens of Paris in their contest with the
Court. And in this they did good service.
The Fédérés had in fact been invited to
Paris by the Girondists, and to that party
they continued to adhere during their stay,
protecting them from the mob when they
lost their short lived ascendency, as zeal-
ously as they at first performed their part in
the popular insurrection which was put in
motion by their leaders. And their presence
undoubtedly contributed in no small degree
to embolden the friends of republicanism
and to precipitate the overthrow of mon-
archy.

On the 10th of August a mob of twelve
thousand men and women, all armed and
desperate, surrounded and partially in-
vested the Tuileries where Louis and his
family were lodged rather as prisoners than
sovereigns. The Royal family escaped by
taking refuge in the Assembly. A general
massacre soon commenced which lasted for
nearly four hours. To use the words of
Barbareux who was present at the head of
a band of Marseillais, "they slew in the
rooms, on the roofs, and in the cellars the
Swiss who were found either with or with
ont arms, the chevalièrs and the valets."
"Our devotedness " Says Madam Campan
"could do nothing. We addressed oursel-
ves to men and women who did not know
us." The whole number of Swiss who per-
ished on this day was 666, besides cheval-
ièrs and domestiques who were also ruthlessly
massacred. The fullest and most minutely
particlular picture of this day is contain-
ed in the narrative of a person belonging
to the Bureau of one of the sections, which
has been recently published for the first
time by M. Dulaure in his " Exquises His-
toriques."

"Scarcely," says this writer, "had we en-
tered the l'Place du Carrousel when our eyes
were met by strange and horrible sights.
On our right lay many heaps each about
twenty feet in height composed of dead
bodies entirely naked. I saw a great num-
ber lying on the terrace of the Palace al-
ready stripped. The garden and adjacent
court were crowded with spectators, of
whom the greater number were women
whose curiosity it was evident was at least
equal to their modesty. The bodies of
the National guard, of the citizens, and of the
Fédérés, had been removed by their friends,
only those of the Swiss guard lay exposed in
this shocking manner. The narrative goes
on to say "that the whole of the front of the
Tuileries was bordered with naked dead
bodies frightfully disfigured, so that they
could not pass the staircases leading to the
chapel and private apartments, as the pas-
sages were filled with dead carcasses, and
streams of blood still flowed from them on all
sides." During the whole of this memora-
ble day the Assembly had continued their
sitting, the King and his family, who had
taken refuge in the Legislative Assembly
while the attack was going on at the Palace,
occupied the seats reserved for the reporters.
On that day it was ordered that all the
royal statues in Paris and throughout
France, should be thrown down, and in the
capital, at least, the mob lost no time in
carrying it into execution.

The Cradle of Treason.

Our first sight of Charleston was a dis-
appointment. We did not expect to see
such terrible desolation, and we wondered
how the rebel newspapers could have kept
back a knowledge of their sufferings.

One-third of the city, and perhaps the
best third, is utterly destroyed. If New
York city, extended only to Canal street,
and a fire, three blocks wide, should burn
its way from Fulton Ferry to the foot of
Barclay street, it would be something like
what has befallen Charleston.

Then, what is untouched by the fire is
pierced and torn and shattered by our
shells. Every second building, at least, is
injured by them. The Mills House, an im-
posing structure, resembling the Sherman
House in Chicago, was hit eighteen times.
We gathered some blooming white clover
from the grass that grew thickly at its
closed doorway.

The Charleston Hotel, the banks, the
court house, Hibernian and Secession Halls,
all bore the marks of Gillmore's stern com-
pliments.

Nor did the churches fare much better
—some of them, indeed, far worse! We
counted five burnt churches, the Catholic
cathedral, the finest in the South, and the
Circular, among the number.

In the quaint old church of St. Michael's,
built of materials brought from England
long ago, and in the pretty little, aristo-
cratic Huguenot church, which was filled
with tablets to the memory of the Sassures,
Porechers, and Gaussens, who fled to the
Carolinas after the repeal of the Edict of
Nantes, the work of destruction had been
complete. It looked as if some of Crom-
well's iconoclasts had been despoiling the
temples of the Malignants

Shells had burst in these buildings and
thieves had burst in after them, and seized
the cushions, torn out the pew-linings, car-
ried off reading-desk, communion-table, and
church ornaments, and left not a vestige
of the organs for our busy relic-hunters.

Mr. John Phillips, a lawyer, and one of
the few respectable white inhabitants left,
told us that, when the city was abandoned
by the rebel troops, the rogues entered
churches and houses, and carried off what
they wanted; that the negroes had no hand
in this plundering; that the newspapers, in
telling us that the city was but slightly dam-
aged by our shells, told us "infernal lies;"
that, at first, no one believed Gillmore could
throw a ball into the city—-a distance of
six miles, and when the shells did come
there was a great deal of terror. "It was
said work for us," said Mr. Phillips, "but"
-—with a grin smile-—"we heard it was
great fun for your soldiers."

Of course many lives were lost. We
heard of a brother and sister who were torn
to pieces as they stood talking by their fire-
side; and of fifteen negroes who were
killed by the bursting of a single shell.

There are no white Union men in
Charleston. "There was not a white man
in the city that I dared to trust," said Rob-
ert Small. There are some who call them-
selves loyal, but such loyalty would be a
Copperhead's delight in Brooklyn.

Of this latter class is Governor Aiken, a
complaining, dissatisfied old gentleman,
vexed at the Proclamation of Emancipa-
tion, vexed at the loss of his wine and the
plunder of his plate by Sherman's "Bum-
mers," and altogether a lone, lorn creet-
tur— like Mrs. Gummidge.

The poor whites with whom we talked
are bitter rebels and did not think their
cause yet lost, although they willingly sold
us fifty dollars in Confederate money for a
dollar greenback.

A beautiful girl, scarce fifteen years old,
came out to unfasten a garden-gate for us,
and was very graciously trying to do so
when her mother appeared and said, with a
haughty air that could not brook our pres-
ence, "Come away, child." This was the
only fine lady rebel visible to us during our
stay in Charleston.

We asked Robert Small where'd all the
grand dames—-the wives and daughters of
the leading men, were. "I hope they are
all in their graves," was his savage answer.

There were many glad faces in the city,
but they were all black ones. The negroes
were in a strange state of delight; they
danced for us, they sung for us, they
brought us flowers in profusion, and refused
our proffered money—-"No; you have done
enough for us already; I spoke of Lee's
surrender to an old negro woman, the sole
occupant of a marble mansion. She did
not understand its full meaning, but felt it
must be something good, and so lifted her
hands and shouted: "Mighty King!"
Fort Sumer is much larger than we
expected. At the flag-raising there were
about four thousand people in the space in-
closed by its battered ramparts, and yet it
was not more than half-filled. Sumter,
with all its bruising and pounding, is still
impregnable. Five hundred men, with
communication open to Charleston, could
hold it against all comers.

An attacking force would have to disem-
bark at the base of a hill of crumbling
brick, broken shells, and loose sand, against
which the sea beats; then climb a chain-
fence at the very edge of the water, and,
before the top of this hill could be gained,
two rows of sharpened wooden stakes, firm-
ly imbedded in the earth and pointing out-
ward, must also be surmounted. It did not
seem as if this could be done in the face of
a determined enemy; our boys tried it
once, and failed.

As the hour passed for opening the cere-
monies we heard them ask impatiently,
"Where's Beecher?" " Where's Beecher?"
At length some one shouted, "There he is
in the white hat." We looked, and lo! the
great expected came looming over the top
of the parapet, in full view of the crowd
below, and descended to the center of the
fort amid great cheering. He was the fa-
vorite by all odds; the best-loved man in
Sumter that day.

Magnolia Cemetery, two miles from the
city, is a somber, mossy place, sadly
neglected, except one little spot where
rests the wife of an English sailor, who
has created a monument to her memory
which is perfectly unique. It is like a
very elegant doll's house, or a confection-
er's model of a mausoleum. There is a
miniature ship chained to a capstan, on
which is written in gold letters, "The
Promise, June, 1822." Then a pair of scales,
evenly balanced, and hanging from the cen-
ter of a triumphal arch, holds his heart in
one scale, hers in the other. There are two
lace handkerchiefs, with the words on glass,
"I had your first and last dear kiss." There
are turtle-doves, and love-mottos, and mo-
sale and shell-work; then another little
ship, then an American flag and a British
union jack, then a plaster cast of a little
boy, then ever-so-many other things, and
at last a head-stone with this epitaph:

All this is protected by a gilt and gayly-
colored roof, and the whole affair might
be covered by a good sized table-cloth.
Through the kindness of General Hatch
and Captain Hunt, all the ambulances, old
stage-coaches, one-horse shays, rheumatic
buggies, bony Rosinantes, and architectural
steeds in the place were impressed for our
use. They were the best the city afforded;
what more could we ask? One of our par-
ty, a grave and reverend seignior, but un-
used to these chariots of the sun, confiscated
a horse and buggy for his own sole use, and
drove, not through Charleston, as he cer-
tainly intended, but straight into the dock
—a depth of over twenty feet. The buggy
was lost for ever; the horse, after immense
labor, managed to come up swimming, and
escaped out alive. The company on the Oce-
anus came away loaded with relics. We
had stiff leather-bound books from the
locked City Library, amn?tes leaves from
Calhoun's game and Hemminger's resi-
dence, papers from the banks, records from
the court house, gilded cherubs' heads from
the churches, muskets from the slave-
marts, soldier's breast plates and epaulets,
and a new, newly-finished rebel flag, which
was presented to the Sumter Club by its
finder.

We found letters dated July and August,
1861, from the Bank of Liverpool to the
Bank of Charleston, "under cover to the
Bank of the State of New York," which ex-
plains how some rebels found means to
communicate with their friends in England.

The slave-mart were easily discovered;
and very airy, convenient shambles they
were; but the little den in which the crea-
tures were penned till brought out for sale
were dark, filthy, and horrible. And the
darkest and filthiest of all was a row of
cells, on an upper floor; where the negroes
were placed? the most crazy at being
parted from their children. Over the door
of one of these prisons was the sign,
"Clinkscales and Boozer. Auctioneers"
Phoebus! what a name, Well, they will
clink no more the dollar that has blood
upon it, and boo? no longer on the money
that made mad a slave mother.

Just before we left the city we stood at
the corner of the battery, and looking
across the harbor, saw the old flag over
Sumter again, and traced its crimson strip-
es on the eastern sky. It meant more than
ever before, and we loved it more than
ever, for it had been insuled for our sakes,
and we had suffered with it. And when we
turned and saw the ruined city—-saw its
silent homes and desolate hearth-stones,
the wild grass in its streets, and the un-
pruned rose tree choke its door-ways—-we
thought of the words, "They that take the
sword shall perish with the sword;" and
we felt something of the pity which filled
the bosom of the Master as, bending long
ago above another rebellious place, " he
beheld the city and wept over it.

The Brothers Leinhardt.

On the borders of a pretty Swedish lake
lies the village of Lundakolping. Lake and
village are each so tiny I doubt if you would
deem them worthy of the name; but the
lake, pure, deep, and cool, is the prettiest
and clearest of all lakes. The old forest
trees (clustering to the very brink, till the
long grey moos from their branches trails
in the quiet water,) wrestle around it a
rich emerald garland, and numberless fishes
peep in its calm depth. The huge moun-
tain, sheltering it from boisterous winds,
casts its regal shadow on the mirroring
surface, and down its steep sides, dashing
and foaming down, down from the far
region where the untrodden snow lies under
an ever-cloudless sky, dashes a mountain
brooklet, bearing to the lake in tribute of
impetuous waters; and the lake, taking the
sparkling treasure to its deep bosom, sends
it forth in a foam-tipped stream, winding
quietly away through the village to gladden
the hearts of weary-footed housewives. On
either side of the public road clusters the
village, with its quaint little houses of squar-
ed pine logs, painted a dull red, and cov-
ered with mossy thatch. The grey old
church stands just at the mountain's foot,
and many an old legend and strange story
will they tell you as you biter in the sombre
twilight of its low, massive arches. In the
grassy churchyard round where, year after
year, year after year, for, oh! so long, sire
and son have lain down side by side, sleep-
ing the same dreamless sleep, is shown a
spot where rest, they say, the ashes of a
grim old sea king, who spent his lifetime
plowing the stormy seas, seething, with right
mighty eddies.... whatever his hair desti-
ed, and reaching even the green slopes of
Vineland in his wild roamings. "He wan-
dered east, he wandered west, till, weary
of his wanderings, he returned to his old
boyhood's haunts and sleeps beneath the
turf his childish feet had pressed. Ah! poor
old sea king; another king, earl in royal
purple, sitting on his Hon-sarnished throne
of gold and ivory, the wisest, the rich-
est, the most powerful of the earth, had
published the sad truth long, long before
You : "The eye is not satisfied with see-
ing, nor the ear with hearing." I doubt
if it were ever even in his day; I fear Tubal
Cain read it in the glare of his molten metals,
and that the "longing for what is not" min-
gled its waiting voice with the harping of
Jabal.

Peace be with you, weary old Viking:
perchance to Him, all seeing as all holy,
the crimes of Blood and violence scream not
with deeper crimson than our dastard sins,
which scarce call forth a sigh of penitence,
or tinge our cheeks with shame. God pity
us!

A sabbath stillness reigns around this
little village, broken only by the laugh of
shout of children, the voices of women
talking to their neighbors, or the ringing of
the ax on the sturdy mountain pine; and
at evening, echoed and re-echoed by the
deep gorges, are heard the plaintive call of
the milkmaids and the lowing of the quiet
herds. In this sequestered nook life flows
on in a calm, unruffled current. A stranger
gazing on the tranquil scene, beholding
everywhere hale health and peace and plen-
ty, would exclaim: "Surely, here, if any
where on earth, must dwell pure innocence
and happiness. Ah! me! the Devil is a
woolgrown weight, and manages to keep his
mental upon a good horse with all his brustle.
Though he doubtless holds his high court
in great cities, and finds in potent oppor-
tunity a fruitful aid; yet there's not on all
this great round world a spot so tiny or
remote that he'll neglect it, if inhabited by
man. Traces of his nimble fingers show
themselves even here, in this lonely moun-
tain village, and in and aOows beside the
office of the holy man, whose voice from
week to week awakes the echoes of that
quaint old church, no empty sinecure.

At some distance from this village, there
stood, many years ago, a little brown house,
weather-beaten and old, but strong and
sturdy. A gaily heritage of sunny mea-
dow lands and fertile fields stretched out
on every side, and huge, substantial barns,
that scarce could hold the teeming harvests,
clustered round the little brown house, mak-
ing its dwarfed proportions seem yet more
pigmy. Large flocks grazed in the pasture,
and the air was filled with the lowing of
cattle, the cackle of poultry, and all the
sounds that tell of rural abundance. Here,
without wife or child, dwelt Hans Ander-
sen, the richest man in the villiage around.
Many times and oft, the simple folks would
gaze upon his hem, broad fields, and
burning barns, and sigh, "If I were rich
Hans Andersen," hopelessly and long-
ingly, as we would say, "as rich as Roths-
child."

Perhaps none thought this half so often.
or so earnestly as Franz Leihnalt, who
lived in a cot on the mountain side, from
which he could view his neighbor's smiling
fields. He and his brother, many years
his junior, followed the calling of wood-
cutters in the neighboring forest. No soon-
er had the first pale heralds of the day
appeared, chasing the shadows to their
lurking places, than their steady strokes
resonated through the forest: and not till
the sun was hid and deep gloom gathered
among the trees, did they wend their weary
way homeward. Few merry-makings could
boast Franz's presence; but when he did
appear, at bridal or at Christmas feast he
sat with the old men, listening to their
wisdom, and mingled not with the bols-
terous rout of younger revelers. To wo-
man's charms he seemed impervious. No
female glance, were it sly or artless, bright
or tender, could bring a glow to his swart
cheek, or quicken a pulse of his coldheart.
Tis needless to say, that while gravenhends
of families praised him, saying, "Twould
be a lucky girl who got so saving and in-
dustrious husband," he was no favorite with
the bright-eyed Swedish maidens, on whose
ruby lips he was "Old Franz Lein ardt"
while his cheek was yet decked with the
silken down of early manhood; butt, alas!
Franz cared as little for their frown or favor
as for the linnets that his ringing axscared
from their accentomed perch. Gold was the
idol of his worship. Even in the little world
in which he lived he saw that poverty was
a reproach no virtue or sense could quite
wipe away, and that wealth conferred a
dignity that mere good qualities could not
command. What wonder, then, that he
longed to close his grasp on the weird
necromancer that can make men bow hum-
bly down, calling deformity beauty, vice
virtue, futility intelligence. Fifty times a
day the eager, envious wish, " If I were as
rich as Hans Andersen," swelled his heart
or found utterance at his lips. He knew
the wish was wild, and unattainable as the
cry of a babe for a star. Working from
earliest dawn to latest twilight, spending
but what a bare necessity required, he
needs must know, count as he would, that
a patriarch's life would not suffice to gain
wealth at that poor, plodding rate; but he
thirsted for gain, and laid coin to coin.
The demons Envy and Love of Gold, which
he strove not against, hardened his heart
and held it closely barred, lest Pity, Love,
or Joy, should enter; and as the years rol-
led on, his life grew barren of kind words
or generous deeds, and in his eyes misfor-
tune seemed a crime. Yet he was sober,
and industrious; none went more regularly
to the church or tent with deeper reverence
in prayer, and this he deemed religion,
forgetting, as to many of us do, that He
prayeth well who loveth well both man, and
liveth and hears.

His brother Flemming, handsome, gen-
erous, and good natured, with a ready laugh
and readier jest, was of a very different
spirit; and wherever fun, or good fellow-
ship, brought the neighbors together, there
was Flemming. Envy was unknown to
him. Little cared he how much the heavy-
headed harvests of Hans Andersen's fields
waved their golden treasures before his eyes,
so long as Christina's ringlets of brighter
gold shone in the sunlight or were tossed
against his cheek by wanton breeze. Hans
Andersen's herds might have loved them-
selves hoarse without winning a thought,
when, with her hand in his, they skimmed
over the frozen lake, the rattle of the skates
and the voice of the skaters making merry
music under the laughing stars, while the
bright Aurora painted the dark vault of
heaven and red and crimson till the snow-
clad earth grew rosy. Perhaps as they
gathered [???] in the sombre forest to strew
upon the floors, and Christina stood hold-
ing her arms to receive the fragrant tips,
her innocent eyes cast upwards, pure and
blue as dew-moistened field flowers, he may
have wished for wealth to deck her with a
crimson bodice and silken kirtle, and put
a ring of gold upon her dimpled hand; but
avarice had no place in his heart. A pen-
iless orphan was the fair haired Christina,
and maid of the village inn; but when the
weary working day was over, and Flem-
ming received from her hands, his mug of
homebrewed ale and oaten cake, what
prince so blest! Love breathed upon them;
the humble cot become an elysium, and
each with ecstasy ruled supreme over that
boundless empire—a loving heart. Why
are ye so fleeting, oh happy days of warm
young love! when a look or word has
power to swell the heart with joy unspeak-
able, and tinge life's weary, rugged road
with all Hope's rainbow tints! It is need-
less to say that Franz looked on this wooing
with no favoring eyes, and when in the
course of time the young people changed
courtship's fairy-land for the sober realities
of matrimony, he heaped many bitter, ang-
ry reproaches on his brother. Forgetting
that He who said "Thou shalt not steal,"
said also, "He that loveth not his brother
abideth in death." Franz thought himself
blameless because he made a just division
of his hoarded gains, though he robbed
the young couple of what God had made
their due—a brother's love and sympathy;
and Flemming, his heart wounded and
estranged, went with his bride to the neigh-
boring city to push his fortunes mid its
crowd and bustle.

General Robert

General Robert Edmund Lee is the son
of Gen. Henry Lee, of Revolutionary mem-
ory, and known as "Light Horse Harry,"
whose mother was the beautiful Miss Grim-
es, General Washington's first love, and
whom he celebrated as the "lowland
beauty." General Harry Lee was twice
married. By the first marriage he had two
children, (Henry, an officer in the war of
1812,) and Lucy. By the second wife—-a
Miss Carter, of Shirley-—he had five child-
ren, two daughters, Anne and Mildred,
and three sons. The sons were Charles
Carter Robert Edmund, (the general,)
and Sidney Smith, the last-named officer
in our navy, now in the rebel navy.

General Robert E. Lee was born in 1807.
and is, consequently, fifty-seven years of
age. He graduated second in his class, in
1822 (Judge Chalres Mason, of his city,
and formerly Commissioner of Patents,
standing first in that class,) and was assign-
ed to the Engineer Corps as second lieuten-
ant; in 1835 Assistant Astronomer, fix-
ing the boundary between the States of Ohio
and Michigan; in 1836 he was chief engin-
er under Scott, in Mexico, and greatly
distinguished, being promoted successively,
by merit, major, lieutenant colonel and
colonel; for his gallantry; in 1852 super-
intendent Military Academy; in 1855
transferred as lieutenant colonel of the new
regiment of cavalry; March 16th, 1861,
promoted colonel of the First cavalry; re-
signed April 25th following, and reluct-
antly embarked in the rebellion.

The following are the children of Gen-
eral Lee: GEORGE WASHINGTON CUSTIS
LEE, about thirty-three years of age; MARY
CUSTIS LEE, about thirty; WILLIAM FITZ-
HUGH LEE, about twenty-seven; ANNIE
LEE, died at Berkeley Springs in 1863, and
would have been now about twenty-five;
AGNES LEE, about twenty-three; ROBERT
E. LEE, about twenty; MILDRED LEE, about
eighteen. None of them have married ex-
cept WILLIAM HENRY FITZHUGH, whose
wife, MRS. CHARLOTT WICKHAM, died at
Richmond in 1868. The eldest son, GEOR-
GE, graduated at the head of his class, at
West Point, in 1854, and was a first lieu-
tenant in the corps of engineers when he fol-
lowed his father into the Southern service.
WILLIAM HENRY was farming upon the
White House estate, which belonged to the
Custis inheritance, when it was opened.
He was commissioned second lieutenant in
the 6th infantry in 1857, but resigned in
1859. ROBERT was at a military school in
Virginia. The sons, it is well known, are
all officers in the rebellion. The three
surviving daughters are with their mother,
who it is believed, has latterly been at
Lynchburg.

Mr. CUSTIS, at the time of his death,
owned some two hundred slaves, who, by
his will, were to be free at the termination
of five years from his death, which period
expired October 10th, 1862. The most of
these slaves were kept on the White House
estate, and the valuable portion were
retained South; some twenty or more old-
men and women and children were left at
Arlington. Mr. Curtis' mother owned the
White House estate, and resided there when
she became the wife of General Washing-
tion.

Death.

On the 1st. inst. at 3.20 p. m. Mr. Charles
G. Allen aged about 37 years.

Mr. A. was a native of Andover, Mass.
U. S. of America, and had been in Siam for
about 7 years.

Items.

A combination of Chiuannam has been
discovered which had formed some design
against the government. A number of
muskets, pikes, badges &c. were also dis-
covered. Rumour says the combination
amounted in number to about three thou-
sand. The leader was a pretty officer under
the government, and a Hokien Chinaman.
He, it appears acknowledged his design,
and has been banished the country. Some
reports say he was disposed of by dumping
him into the gulf, but it appears upon re-
liable authority that he was placed on
board of the Siamese Barque Castle bound

for Hong Kong, with the injunction that
if he returned his head would pay the pe-
nalty.

The Steamer Chow Phya is expected to
leave Singapore for this port, about the
20th mst.

It is reported that the Siamese Barque
Goldfinder, Capt. de Castro, has been lost,
two days out from Hongkong, and all on
board except one person, perished.

By private letters from Petchaburee we
learn that the prospects for the next crop
in that province still continues fair. Af-
ter a short season of drought any fears
that may have existed have been removed
by the copious rains which have fallen.

We are informed that the persons found
guilty of counterfeiting ots a few weeks
since, have been released by paying a fine
of less than one thousand Ticals. Report
says that they were treated thus leniently
because their counterfeit money is so im-
perfect an imitation as to be little likely to
pass for the genuine coin, and that there
was so little of it made as to be of no es-
sential damage to the public.

Garden Rambles in Siam.

The following article was written not
long since, by a person who spent a short
time in Siam. The article may be taken
as a specimen of a book preparing on
Siam by the same person.

In a climate so hot and humid as that of
Siam, (mean annual temperature, eighty-
three degrees Fahrenheit,) vegetable life
rejoices in perennial and surpassing luxur-
iance, variety and beauty. Unvisited by
fell frost, key blast, or arid wind, garden
and field and wood are clad in living verdure.
Toward the end of the dry season indeed,
the leaves wear a tinge of brown and the
grasses of straw, but a few showers, and all
are fresh and green again. The change of
leafage is a little perceptible, the dying of
the old and the budding of the new on most
trees being simultaneous. Leaf, flow-
er and fruit together, and such wondrous
variety and exuberance! Every where na-
ture is prodigal, on mountain peak and
valley-bottom, in frequented street and by
river side, every where she spreads her gifts.
If earth be too narrow, she goes up and
decks the house-top and wall with shrub
and vine; she climbs the trees, loading root,
trunk and branch with epidendra and par-
asites, and leaps from top to top, festooning
and sreading still forest depths with vines,
leaves and blossoms; she hangs in air the
orchard's 'outlandish roads and marvellous
flowers;' she goes into the streams and in-
vades their muddy beds with filibustering
atap or mangrove; and upon the ponds,
covering their calm waters with cress, lily
and lotus; while down beneath the gulf she
lays out vast parterres of curious sea-plants.
The broad, alluvial river-valleys, and most
mountainous regions are densely covered
with huge and lofty trees, and in many
parts with a heavy, tangled, impenetrable
undergrowth. The districts under cultiva-
tion are of wonderful fertility, manifold
rewarding the rude and indolent labors of
the husbandman. Bangkok, the capital
seems dropped down amid a great forest of
fruit-trees, shade-trees and vines. The ex-
tended fields trenched, ridged and planted,
the orchards and vineyards of other lands,
are here named 'Gardens.'

On the margin of the river-bank, which
loving hearts called 'Garden Reach,' thickly
screening from the too inquisitive grass of
the many passing boats, the old bamboo
house, which the same loving hearts called
'Home,' grew the cocos nucifera. It is the
clink of the Sinese, the—atap (from the
Malay word for thatch) of the European.
A single stalk rising from the mud and tide
to the height of eight or ten feet, with long
dark green leaves, close set, like the lam-
ing of a feather, it is one of the humblest
and yet most useful of the palms. The
leaves separated from the common stalk,
doubled and strung together by woman
and children on bamboo splits, in pieces
two feet wide and one and a half long, form
the waterproof roofing and siding of the
bamboo houses. Resembling in color,
when dry, corn leaves, costing six dollars
per thousand, and lasting three or four
years, they're a cheap and not unhandsome
housing. A few steps, and we stand by
the 'light, feathery, tree-like grass,' of which
the wondering historians of Alexander's
conquests first told the ancient West. How
gracefully, beautifully, the bamboo, with
slender stalk and bright green spray sways,
to-and-fro with every passing breeze! Does
it not remind you of the weeping willow in
the farther West? This species grows in
clumps or clusters (of fifteen or twenty
stems) often ten or twelve feet in circum-
ference and from thirty to fifty in height.
From large, tough, inter-grown roots spring
the smooth, hard, hollow, long and many-
jointed stalks, which at ten feet begin to
jut out the branches armed with sharp,
thick thorns, and adorned with leaves two
or three inches wide and ten or twelve long.
There are several other species, some of
greater size and use. What a blessing al-
most necessity, the bamboo is to the tropic
inhabitant! It forms, with the chak or
atap, three-fourths of the Siamese houses,
frame, joists, rafters, cave-throughs, floors,
foundation, (of floating-house,) fences and
all. With it they go forth to bear their
burdens, handle their tools, water level their
walls, pole their boats, yard their sails, cable
their junks. With it, hardened by fire,
they spear fish and foem an through it blow
the poisoned arrow. With it they at home
again kindle by friction the extinguished
fire, and castigate the trunks of negligent
youngster. With its sweet tender shoots
they relish their rice and fish; from it im-
bibe the sparkling river or canal. With
it, cut in to small bits, they make not-jack
ots moro old than useful. With it accor-
gan or flute, they beguile the closing day,
and labor and pastime done. But who can
recal the more than fourscore enumerated
user and beauties, of the bamboo?

That is a singular palm: the rattan,
which furnishes writes for the bamboo
and atap, for thongs, cordage, cables and
many other purposes. Its application in
the moral improvement of criminals is not
infrequent, and is more painful but less
ignominious than 'bamboozing'. Its power
to enhance female bear? however, un-
familiar to the Siamese fair, though some-
times subject to Parisian rubes on gala-
days at the Royal Palace. The purple
juice of one species enters into the com-
pound, 'Dragon's Blood' of the apothecar-
ies. Another, with its long, sharp thorns,
makes an impassable height. Another, in
its native forests, creeping among the thick
underbrush, tangles and toils all into im-
penetrable barriers, or coiling its stem,
two or three inches thick, around and up
the giant trunks, with leaf and flower-cover-
ed fetters, binds bough to bough and tree
to tree for hundreds of feet. Rumphius
mentions those extending twelve to eighteen
hundred feet, or one fifth to one third of
a mile from the root. But these little stems
swinging from the high branches and rootsing
in the wet trenches at our feet, are not the
rattan nor the banian. They are a rather
ivy-like vine, which will ere long ungrate-
fully cause the tree kindly supporting them
to droop and die. The banana or plantain,
with its soft green stalk, six or seven inches
thick—which a rattan could cut to the
ground—leaping like a mushroom ten or
eleven feet high; its great green leaves, of-
ten two feet broad and ten long, finely
arched, and gently swaying in the breeze,
or spangled with the rain-drops: its long
spike from the very top bending with en-
circling rows of green or yellow fruit, and
terminating in a large purple flower, is it
not a thing of beauty? To the native it is
indeed a joy forever, with its other-in-season
fruit, several dozen in number, three to
three inches in length, three-fourths to two in-
ches in diameter, all sweet, acid, subacid,
mealy or juicy, according to the one of the
thirty or forty varieties. From the tree every
day of the year, or in pastry or fritters, or
dried in sugar, it is the pleasant, healthful
and nutritious food of the young child and
the old man, the sick and well at home
and abroad. According to Humboldt, they
would in a year produce forty-four hundred
and ten pounds of ripe plantains. From
the leaf are made dishes, the covering of
cigars, etc.; from the fibre, wrapping-twine.
From the folds of the stalks are carved some
of the finest decorations of festal halls and
funerals. Hope too, the palm-lifts
its majestic head, plumed with a dozen or
more leaves, as many feet long and two or
three broad, starred with light-yellow
flowers, and laden with scores of green and
golden nuts. It is not a strange conceit
that the name cocoæ is derived from the
Portuguese (macaco or macaco) for monkey,
on account of the resemblance which the
nut, with its three embryo holes (one ger-
minuative) bears to that animal's facing. As
you look wistfully up, in a twinkle the boy,
with cleaver in hand, his waist-cloth, with bare
feet and hands clasping the nity trunk, is
literally walking up the rings or grooves
whence leaves have fallen, up, up, thirty,
forty, fifty, sixty feet. Stand from under,
and down pump the nuts in the soft earth.
Down comes the boy—a cleaver stroke—
and the bronze Ganymede hands you the
opened goblet whence you may quaff nec-
tar the gods might have envied. Another
stroke, and your gablet is in hemispheres
and a nice white blue mange is dished
before you. The congealed and hardened
cream of the elder nut is a prime ingredient
of curries. The meat of the yet older is
sun-dried, pulverized, and then subjected to
a process similar to tea and sugar-packing
and wine-pressing. The natives express
from it, through a perforated tub, with their
pedal extremities, an oil very pure, and so
attractive to their taste, that our lamps of
ten snuffed behind their erect. From
the husk half-rotted in water, beaten on
stones and dried, is made the filling of cu-
shions and beds, from which might also be
made the very best 'coir' cordage.

The lan-palm, tapped beneath the flower-
aloot, gives daily a gallon or two of sweet
maple-like sap. This rather pleasant drink
on the third day ferments into the intoxi-
cating toddy. Boiled, it yields a brown,
thick, ungranulated sugar, very excellent,
which is sold in small earthen jars, very
cheap. The leaves of the tailpot tree lam-
palm, cut into strips two inches wide and
twenty long, and rendered smooth and pli-
able by water and friction, form the leaves
of the smerged hooks. The area is one of
the noblest of the noble family. Planted
in rows eight feet apart, the smooth, slen-
der trunk rises like a column, straight, leaf-
less and branchless forty to fifty feet, with
long, pinnate, gracefully-curving, bright
green leaves, feathery plume of staminate
flowers, and hanging clusters of hundreds
of dark green or reddish orange nuts. A
step across the trench and the narrow strip
of weeds and bushes, the only (but usual
native) boundaries, into the grounds of our
neighbor, and we shall find yet another
beautiful sight. It is a field of the plant
whose leaf's always used with the areca-
nut. For a moment you might easily im-
agine yourself in one of the well-kept hop-
yards of Central New-York. But it is the
seri or betel pepper (cousin to black and
red) vine, which, with light green leaves, is
twining up the poles set in rows between
the trenches, traversing at intervals of six or
eight feet the whole field. With what fast-
idious neatness is every weed and blade of
grass kept out; how thoroughly softened
and mellow the soil; how carefully watered
day by day from the trenches each plant!
Your off-spirations recall a down-shore Long-
Island farm in fish-time. Hard by, in large
earthen jars buried in the ground, are rot-
ing quantities of fish, and from these scul-
ptures life is sprinkled every day or two on
the vines. You will stop to admire the
rapidity with which the girls are sorting
and packing, in regular number and circle,
the leaves for market. The master oversee-
ing, with the accustomed courtesy of the
host, orders the betel or scri-leaf tray to be
passed to you. But you are ignorant as to
its use, and he politely takes from one dish,
the hot peppery leaf, plasters it with lime,
tinged a pretty pink by turmeric, quarters
with iron shears a hard, astringent areca-
nut, adds finecut tobacco, rolls all together,
and presents it. Or with extra politeness,
if you, through age have lost some teeth,
he in a small brass cylinder, with an iron
punch, combines this delectable mixture.
The pleasure which you decline is one to
which the Siamese, high and low, male and
female, young and old, are exceedingly
addicted. No man of wealth but has in his
retinue one who bears the "betel-nut" set,
with its rich vessels of gold and silver. He
or she of the single wrist-cloth infolds with
in it the nut and leaf, sometimes carrying
the latter rolled over the ear. The mouth
oozing blood-like saliva, and the teeth black-
ened by burnt cocoa-shell to prevent cor-
rosion by lime! add nothing, contrary to
their opinion, to the beauty, not naturally
excessive, of the people. The defiling stains
and debris are seen in hut and boat, palace
and temple. Universally used in the East,
the betel is mildly stimulating, slightly
narcotic, and ultimately tonic to the inha-
bitants of these hot, moist countries. Yet
another plant of Siam, or rather its Malayan
dependencies, is the sago from whose del-
icate pith is chiefly made the flour so much
esteemed, especially by invalids.

Marvels of Memory.

Some examples of the feats of memory
would be rejected as altogether fabulous
had they not been given us on authority of
the highest respectability. It is related of
Themistocles that he could call by their
names every citizen of Athens, though they
amounted to twenty thousand. Cyrus knew
the name of every soldier in his army.

Mithridates, King of Pontus, knew each one
of his eighty thousand soldiers by his right
name. Hugo Grotius, on being present at
a review of some regiments in France, re-
called all the names of the single soldiers in
the order of the roll-call. Scipio knew all
the inhabitants of Rome. Seneca could re-
peat in order two thousand words heard only
once. Cook, the tragedian, is said to have
committed to memory the entire contents
of a large daily newspaper. Lord Granville
could repeat from beginning to end the New
Testament in the original Greek. George
III. is said never to have forgotten the face
he had once seen, or the name he had once
heard. Racine knew by memory all the
tragedies of Euripides. Justus Lipsius ven-
tured to rehearse the works of Tacitus from
the first word, to the last, and then from the
last to the first, even when a man was stand-
ing before him with a drawn dagger to
pierce him the very moment he should fail
to give a single word. Bottegella knew by
heart whole books, verbatim. Mirandola
need to commit the contents of a book to
memory after reading it thrice, and could
then not only repeat the words forward, but
backward also. Thomas Cranwell in three
months committed to memory, when in Italy,
an entire translation of the Bible as made
by Erasmus. Leibnitz knew all the old
Greek and Latin poets by heart, and could
recite the whole of Virgil, word for word,
when an old man. Bossuet knew the Bible
by heart, and could also repeat, verbatim,
all Homer, Virgil, and Horace, and many
other works. The Abbé Poule carried all
his sermons—the compositions of forty
years—in his head.

Mozart had a prodigious memory of mu-
sical sounds. At the early age of fourteen
he went to Rome to assist at the solemnities
of Holy Week. Scarcely had he arrived
there, ere he ran to the Sistine Chapel to
hear the famous Miserere of Allegri. It
had been forbidden to take or give a copy of
this famous piece of music. Aware of this
prohibition the young German placed him-
self in a corner and gave the closest atten-
tion to the music. On leaving the church
he noted down the entire piece. The Fri-
day after he heard it a second time, and fol-
lowed the music with his copy in hand,
assuring himself of the fidelity of his mem-
ory. Next day he sang the Miserere at a
concert, accompanying himself on the harp-
sichord—a performance which caused so
great a sensation at Rome that Pope Clement
XIV. immediately requested that the musi-
cal prodigy should be presented to him.

One of the most remarkable instances of
memory we have ever yet met with was that
of a young Florentine named Magliabechi,
who died in the year 1714. This young
man possessed a most insatiable passion for
reading, and become familiar with nearly
every book then extant in Europe. He
seemed to have no taste for any particular
subject, but read indiscriminately whatever
came to hand. He was able to retain near-
ly every thing he read, till he became at
length a living speaking index of all the
literature of the age. The learned con-
sulted him when writing on any subject with
regard to which they desired information,
and he was always able to direct them to the
books which treated upon the matter, desig-
nating those which discussed it fully, and
those which merely touched upon it. He
remembered not only the matter of the
books, but also the places where they were
found, and by studying catalogues become
familiar with the great libraries he had
never seen. He became librarian to the
Grand Duke, who one day asked if he could
obtain a certain very rare book for him.
"No, sir," was the reply, "for there is but
one in the world, and that is in the library
of the Grand Segnior of Constantinople, and
is the seventh book on the seventh shelf,
right hand side as you go in.

The editor of a New York paper vouches
for the strict truthfulness of the following:
Some years ago A held a bond against B
for several hunderd dollars, having some
time to run. When the bond became due,
A made a diligent search for it among his
papers, but it was not to be found. Know-
ing to a certainty that the bond had not
been paid, or otherwise legally disposed of,
A concluded frankly to inform his neighbor
B of its loss, and to retry upon his sense of
justice for its payment. But to his surprise,
when informed of the loss, B denied ever
having given such a bond, and strongly in-
timated a fraudulent design on his part in
asserting that such a transaction had taken
place between them. Being unable to prove
his claim, A was compelled to submit to the
loss of the debt, and also to the charge of
dishonourable intentions in urging the de-
mand. Years passed away, and the affair
almost ceased to be thought of, when, one
day, while A was lathing in Charles river,
he was seized with cramp and came near
drowning. After sinking and rising several
times he was seized by a friend and drawn
to the shore, and carried home apparently
lifeless. But by application of the usual
remedies he was restored; and as soon as
he gained sufficient strength he went to his
bookcase, took out a book, and from between
the leaves took out the identical bond which
had been so long missing. He then stated
that while drowning and sinking, as he sup-
posed, to rise no more, there suddenly stood
out before him, as it were in a picture, every
act of his life from his childhood to the
moment when he sank beneth the waters,
and that among other acts was that of his
placing that bond in a book and having it
away in the bookcase. A, armed with the
long-lost document found in this marvellous
manner, called upon B, of whom he re-
covered the debt with interest. Similar
instances of quickened memory might easily
be given.

To a truly good man a retentive memory
is an invaluable boon. In a true and noble
life, a life full of sympathies and generous
deeds for the welfare of the race, there must
exist all the materials for the highest possible
enjoyment on earth.—Ladies Repository.

H. B. M. Family.

The people of this realm have the best
of reasons for rejoicing in every event which
consolidate the stability or augments the
happiness of the Royal Family. Under
Queen Victoria this nation has enjoyed a
prosperity and realised a progress which, if
not wholly without precedents, can be only
compared with one, and that the most
glorious reign of our history. Besides this
we owe to the Queen, and to the Prince
whom we still lament, the priceless bless-
ing of a pure Court and of a family life
and discipline which have made the Royal
household a praise and an example through-
out the land. We offer our respectful
congratulations to the Queen, who again
sees her illustrious line extended and asur-
ed, and to the Royal Parents whose hopes
are once more fulfilled. We salute with
our warmest good wishes the Child which
has come to take its place at the royal
hearth and in the capatious affection of a
generous people. May Heaven guard its
tender years, mould and fashion its mind
to every noble grace and every Christian
virtue, and make the Prince as dear to our
children as his Parents are dear to us.

Sizing Down The Ages Of Man.

The man that dies youngest, as might
be expected, perhaps, is the railway brakes-
man. His average age is only 27. Yet
this must be taken with some allowance,
from the fact that hardly any but young
and active men are employed in this capa-
city. At the same-age dies the factory
workwoman, through the combined influ-
ence of confined air, sedentary posture,
scant wages, and unremitting toil. Then
comes the railway baggage man, who is
smashed on an average at 30. Milliners
and dressmakers tire but very little longer.
The average of the one is 32 and of the other
33. The engineer, the fireman, the con-
ductor, the powder maker, the well digger,
and the factory operative, all of whom are
exposed to sudden and violent deaths, die
on an average under the age of 35. The
cutler, the dyer, the leather dresser, the
apothecary, the confectioner, the cigar ma-
ker, the printer, the silversmith, the paint-
er, the shoe cutter, the engraver, and the
machinist, all of whom led confined lives
in an unwholesome atmosphere, do not
reach the average age of 40. The musi-
cian blows his breath all out of his body at
40. Then come trades that are active, or
in a pure air. The baker lives to an ave-
rage age of 43, the butcher to 49, the
brickmaker to 47, the carpenter to 49, the
furnace man to 42, the mason to 48, the
stone cutter to 43, the tanner to 49, the
tinsmith to 43, the weaver to 44, the cook
to 45, the inn-keeper to 46, the labourer
to 44, the domestic servant (female) to 33,
the tailor to 43, the tailoress to 41. Why
should the barber live till 50, if not to
show the virtues there is in personal neat-
ness and soap and water! Those who
average over half a century among me-
chanics, are those who keep their muscles
and lungs in health and moderate exercise,
and not troubled with weighty cares. The
blacksmith hammers till 52, and the wheel-
wright till 50. The miller lives to be
whitened with the age of 61. The rope-
maker lengthens the thread of his life to 55.
merchants, wholesale and retail, to 62.
Professional men live longer than is gener-
ally supposed. Litigation kills clients
sometimes, but seldom lawyers, for they
average 55. Physicians prove their use-
fulness by prolonging their own lives to
the same period. The sailor averages 43,
the caulker 64, the sailmaker 52, the steve-
dore 55, the ferryman 65, and the pilot 64.
A dispensation of Providence that "Maine
Law" men may consider incomprehensible
is, that brewers and distillers live to the
ripe old age of 64. Last and longest lived
come pamper, 67, and "gentlemen" 62.
The only two classes that do nothing for
themselves and live on their neighbours,
outlast all the rest.

Royalist Church Sympathies.—

It is curious to observe the sympathies of
the royalist or conservative parties all over
Europe, in hoping for the destruction of
this republic, and deprecating our success
in the suppression of the rebellion. Profess-
or Hentsenberg, of Berlin, of the Establish-
ed Lutheran Church, and a high saint in
religious pretension, in his Annual Re-
view—a dictatorial publication, called by
the students "The speech from the throne"
—finds nothing to report from America, but
the people here "have steadily persist-
ed, with more than Pharaonic obstinacy,
in this same striving against God." Their
heart is "hardened, like that of Pharaoh,
sevenfold." "This obduration," he proceeds,
"shows itself in various ways, especially in
the re-election of Lincoln, that man of blood
and tears."

Lying.—"So, Tom, that old liar, Dick
Fibbins, is dead.—"Yes, his yarns are
wound up; he'll lie no more—the old
rascal.—"Indeed, it's my opinion,
Tom, that he'll lie still!

"Setting a Man-Trap" is the title given
to the picture of a pretty young lady arrang-
ing her curls at a mirror.