doing so, the thunder began-first distant rumbling; but soon loud claps and pouring rain. They put my palanquin under some trees, and left the torch close to me, to prevent its going out. The Sowar got off his horse, and sat under it, and my poor bearers, in their light clothing, got all around me, to get as much shelter as they could from the palanquin. I thought of my mother and all at home, how little they guessed the situation I was in and poor F- too, I knew would be nearly frantic. You feel so lonely with only natives around you! At last daylight came, and the rain nearly ceased. I tried to encourage the bearers to go on; but they only told me the river was too high to attempt crossing it, and at last I said, “Come and look, and I will walk. You can carry the empty palanquin." It was about one hundred yards to the river, which I found not so wide as the first, but I was sure it was deeper, from the smooth way in which the water was running. The bearers were ashamed at seeing me standing in my thin shoes on the muddy bank, and the rain still coming down; so they at last began to exert themselves. A beggar was found close by, who, in the hope of some unlucky traveller, had constructed a raft, consisting of a hurdle, with four light earthen jars, placed one at each corner, with the mouth downwards. They took the mattress and pillows out of my palanquin, and rolled them up; then they put it on this frail raft, and by means of ropes they took it across, four of the men swimming alongside, and holding it up. . The moment it was put on, it sank about a quarter of a yard in the water, raft and all, but at last it was landed, and the raft came back for unhappy me. By this time I was nearly wet through, for I had only a shawl wrapped round me over my white dressing-gown. There was no use in delay, so declining the offer of being carried down the steep bank, I held their hands firmly, and leaning all my weight on them, I jumped lightly on the raft; "Oh, thought she, if her mother knew it, Deeply, deeply, her heart would rue it." How glad I felt that I was not very heavy; for even my weight sent it under water, and I was obliged, in order to balance myself, to kneel on it, so I was thoroughly wet through. At the other side I seated myself in my palanquin. There was a bungalow, I knew, about seven miles off and I hoped to reach it soon; but fancy my dismay at seeing that the whole country was a sheet of water! The bearers said, "There will be five miles of this; the inundation has reached it, and it is all low land; then comes the Marcanda river, where, perhaps, we shall have to wait twenty-four hours, for it is the largest of all the rivers here." How I did long for that bungalow, and what I would have given for a little tea! I sat shivering, and I had been long enough in India to know that shivering there in July was anything but what it ought to be. Five weary miles of water we had to go through. When I saw the knee joint of my bearers above the water, I was satisfied; but I saw it but rarely. Constantly it was waist deep, and constantly they stumbled with me; and from the poor creatures being tired and cold, they could not hold my palanquin as high as they should have done, and con stantly, therefore, was I in the water. I had not unrolled my mattress, &c.; as I was so wet, I hoped to keep it a little dry for me when I changed my dress at the much longed-for little bungalow; and the bottom of my palanquin being only ratanned, was of course no protection from the water. At ten o'clock, A. M., we reached the Marcanda, and about a mile on the other side I saw the bungalow. But such a river!-the others were nothing to it. It was so much wider and so rapid. I was really frightened. I must always have great faith in the power of my tears. I could not help it, I did begin to cry. I was tired out quite, and not feeling strength enough left, nor courage either, to tell them to attempt the crossing. I sat there without speaking, with the tears rolling down my face. The poor bearers had certainly never seen a white lady cry before! They all seized my palanquin, collecting all the men that were on the bank to help them, and putting it on their heads, instead of their shoulders, they shouted out, "Victory, victory over the Marcanda," and in we went. The water was in my palanquin the whole time. bearers kept their heads above; but we were washed down a long way. At last, to my great relief, I was placed on dry land again, and my poor bearers went back to bring my boxes over. The They were almost exhausted, and I was glad to find a small bottle of brandy, F- had put in for me, had not been left behind with my eatables. Don't be shocked at my taking such a thing with me, Sybel; dûk travellers always do; in cases of sudden illness, or one of your bearers being bitten by a snake, it is most necessary; so I told all the men with me they must take a little English medicine, and after a few scruples they all did, with the exception of the Sowars, who, being Mussulmen, would not of course touch it. This revived them, and I reached the bungalow; it was occupied, and at first I felt glad that I should get a little tea without the trouble of making it. I was completely tired. I found one gentleman had taken all the accommodation; his breakfast was prepared in a small room he vacated for me; he sent, and had it all carried away! So feeling I really was in want of something after all my fatigues, I was obliged to look for my own tea and sugar from my palanquin. Alas! that I had never given them a thought before! The tin canister had opened, and the sugar had disappeared, and the tea was swimming about quite unfit for use. I still flattered myself the gentleman might have the civility to offer me a part of his breakfast; but not a thought of the kind entered his head, and I was too English to put myself under the obligation to him by asking for any. With some difficulty I extricated myself from my wet clothing, which refreshed me a little, and again I started. What specimens I have given you of our countrymen in India! I must say I was truly unfortunate. Here I had fresh bearers-the eight that brought me to the bungalow had been with me from five o'clock the evening before till eleven that dayeighteen hours; the Sowars had been rather longer, and really scarcely a complaint had escaped them. They had gone through a great deal of fatigue, and had they chosen to put me down, and run away, I was quite at their mercy. They might have robbed me of anything they liked, for even had they been discovered, I should not, in all probability, have recognized them; but they | F's, and was too much horrified at thinking have a sort of inherent respect for a white face: what I had gone through to mind, and out came ladies constantly travel alone, and I never heard the fowl in his fingers, and the bread likewise, and of any one losing the smallest article. They then he gave me a fork, carefully holding it by the seemed very well pleased with my reward, and prongs! began telling me their names, that I might ask for them if I came that way again. After leaving the bungalow, and its courteous tenant, I was very thankful to find the road better. I had one more river to cross, on a raft similar to the one I had before; but it was near a village, and better constructed, and they were able to get some blankets to keep me dry. I went on all day, and about midnight again we came to another river. They put my palanquin on their heads, and took me over in it. I was brave after the Marcanda, and uttered not a syllable of fear. In an hour after that, I heard a great shouting, and a number of torches were seen through the trees; some Sowars galloped up to inquire if it was my palanquin, and I found Harry had sent an elephant to meet me, in case the water had extended in this direction. The poor letter-carrier had reached safely, and my note had been delivered. Last, not least, under the circumstances, even when an elephant was concerned, was a box with a cold fowl and some bread, and as I had eaten nothing since my hasty luncheon on Thursday, and it was then Saturday morning, I really was very glad to see it. The servant with the box did not know what it contained. He was a Hindoo; and it is as much against their prejudices to touch a fowl, as it is against those of a Mussulman to touch a pig. However, he had been a servant of PRAYER FOR MISSIONS. BY MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY. NIGHT wraps the realm where Jesus woke, High message to the shepherd-throng, Bends low by Ganges' worshipped tide, Or drowns the suttee's shrink of pain With thundering gong and pagan pride. On Persia's hills the Sophi grope; Dark Burmah greets salvation's ray; On her sad lips a Saviour's name. Which from eternal death can save, And bid Christ's heralds speed their flight, Ere millions find a hopeless grave. I was almost too much tired to eat, and I found something to drink would be more acceptable at first. I could not fancy wine, which Harry had also sent, and as I did not like to mount the elephant at that time of night, feeling too much tired to bear the shaking of the animal, I told them I would remain in my palanquin, and sent on a Sowar to announce my approach. It was three o'clock in the morning when I reached Harry's house, and very thankful I was to do so, and to get at last a cup of tea. My ill fortune did not desert me when I continued my journey, the rains having become general over the country, and I was twelve hours beyond the usual time; but I met with no serious discomfort, and at last reached Delhi-finding poor Ffrightened out of his wits nearly. He had sent the carriage to bring me in the last twenty miles, which helped me greatly, though the roads were such as no English coachman would have cared to drive over. I had never such an expedition before or since, and I most sincerely trust I shall never be obliged to make another journey during the month of July, in that very luxurious country! And now, my dear Sybel, I am afraid you are sadly tired of me, and this is the last safe day for the over-land letters. Pray write and tell me what you think of me as a heroine! and believe me ever yours affectionately, M. R. G. LORD, I confess this morning I remembered my breakfast but forgot my prayers. And as I have returned no praise, so thou mightst justly have afforded me no protection. Yet thou hast carefully kept me to the middle of this day, entrusted me with a new debt before I have paid the old score. It is now noon, too late for a morning, too soon for an evening sacrifice. My corrupt heart prompts me to put off my prayers till night, but I know it too well, or rather too ill, to trust it. I fear if till night I defer them, at night I shall forget them. Be pleased therefore now to accept them. Lord, let not a few hours the later make a breach; especially seeing (be it spoken not to excuse my negligence but to implore thy pardon) a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday. I promise hereafter by thy assistance to bring forth fruit in due season. See how I am ashamed the sun should shine on me, who now newly start in the race of my devotions, when he like a giant hath run more than half his course in the heavens.-Fuller. LORD, this day casually I am fallen into a bad company, and know not how I came hither, or how to get hence. Sure I am, not my improvidence hath run me, but thy providence hath led me into this danger. I was not wandering in any base by-path, but walking in the highway of my vocation; wherefore, Lord, thou that calledst me hither, keep me here. Stop their mouths that they speak no blasphemy, or stop my ears that I hear none; or open my mouth soberly to reprove what I hear. Give me to guard myself, but, Lord, guard my guarding of myself. Let not the smoke of their badness put out my eyes, but the shining of my innocency lighten theirs. Let me give physic to them, and not take infection from them. Yea, make me the better for their badness. Then shall their bad company be to me like the dirt of oysters, whose mud hath soap in it, and doth rather scour than defile.-Fuller. POETRY.-The Advent of Truth; Evening Chime, 590-A Meditation, 598-Nil Desperandum; Tell me All, 599-The Coming of Christ: The First Grief, 600-The Old Year, 610-The Lumbermen, 628. SCRAPS.-Great Events from Trifling Causes; Potato Disease, 599-To the Humane; First Man of the Day; Saxon Revenge; Iron Market, 610-Athenian Railway, 614Plague of Grasshoppers; Maps in Relief; Transit of Travellers; Mandarin and English Lady; Judge Story; South American Bamboo, 616-Junius; Newspaper at St. Helena, 620-Anti-Slavery Mission to Morocco, 621.-Execution without Trial, 624-Union of Atlantic and Pacific, 627. WHAT DOES FRANCE MEAN? times, by the ready hostility of the public mind in France, but has been saved by the skilful and saun-gacious policy of the French king. It is the opinion of Europe, that he looks to this alliance as a main security for the permanence of his dynasty. England and France have jointly made war upon Madagascar. THIS is a question which has given us much easiness. Look at the circumstances under which she interfered with the annexation of Texas, and we can hardly suppose that what she did then was without some strong motive. She took part with England, her old enemy, who is still most bitterly hated by the French people; the life and soul of the confederacy which marched twice to Paris and dictated terms to France. She took part against the United States, her "ancient ally," with whom it has been her policy to cherish friendship, as a growing counterpoise to the maritime power of Great Britain. The French government well knew how keenly we should feel this change, and it also knew how bitterly it would be assailed at home. What object can there be so important to the government of Louis Philippe, as to make up for the unpopularity of its course? This we must try to discover. Let us note a few facts. 1. As a safety-valve for the military ardor of France, it has been thought worth while to keep up the war in Africa; and this war, although disastrous and unprofitable, has always been popular. 2. A great eagerness for colonization has sprung up of late years, as has been sufficiently shown in the isles of the Pacific, and in Madagascar-and which at one time was like to anticipate England in the settlement of New Zealand. 3. The marriage of one of the king's sons with a princess of Brazil, and the interference in concert with England, in the River Plate, taking forcible possession of the fleet of Buenos Ayres. 4. An emulation of the British trade with China. 5. A cultivation of the most cordial alliance with England. This has been endangered several VOL. VII. 37 LXXXV. LIVING AGE. 6. An apparent desire to quarrel with Mexicowhich has often been shown since the bombardment of San Juan de Ulloa-and which has especially broken out in the conduct of the late French minister. France has no representative there. Now there was a rumor several years ago, of a plan for placing one of the sons of Louis Philippe upon the throne of Mexico. If we suppose this to have been founded in fact, and that the intention is still persevered in, it may serve to explain the whole affair. But would England favor such a design on the part of France? She might concur in all points of the French policy which are intended to fend of war in Europe. She does so in Africa, where she promotes the French pursuit of Abd el Kader, even into the territory of her old customer Moroc co. England might wish well to Fray in this Mexican matter, as affording a counter ise to our growing ascendancy. With a Freng government on the south, and Canada on the rth, the great Republic would be well hemmed even if it were not entirely excluded from the ific, which might be a part of their future pol; This would indeed be so thing worthy of being shadowed forth by the Pthe object of French inse "balance of power," assigned by M. Guizot and it is difficult to find terference in Amery of this phrase. He could any other explana maintain the balance between not have meant England and the United States. As the French newspapers said, he ought rather to wish for the diminution of British power. But this was without the supposition of any interest of French aggrandizement. surer path to greater glory, by changing us from jealous rivals to cordial friends. She would then, as the friend of mankind, have the blessings of the Lord of Hosts upon her. In the management of affairs so much compli The steady and rapid growth of this republic,cated as our foreign relations are, let us give to our exerts more and more influence upon Europe, and it may be thought worth while to make a vigorous and combined effort to secure quiet at home, by effectually curbing the antagonistic principle-and this may be more easily done with twenty millions of people, than with the seventy millions which we shall be in the year 1890. Our position will enable us to command the commerce of Asia; and some more effectual competition may be intended tha can be made by lodgments in the outposts, the islands of the Pacific. A war for the acquisition of Mexico would be popular with much of France. Their liking to us, is only hatred of England. They would like to show how much better they could fight us than England has done. They are ambitious of the extension of their territory-eager for commerceemulous of British colonization;-and we cannot depend upon the Republicans or the Bonapartists, in opposition to the attractions of such a contest. The first step would be the only difficulty. If the French government could hold its own against the first outbreak of anti-Anglican indignation, there would be little difficulty in reconciling all parties in France to the continuance of the contest. The French papers, speaking of Algeria, say that fifteen years is not long in the foundation of an empire that a century may elapse before French dominion is quietly acquiesced in by the Arabs. And so a war in America would be more popular, the longer it lasted. own government a confiding and hearty support. Let the president feel that if he will continue to be moderate in tone, and to show an earnest desire for peace, he will be sustained by the whole people if war should be inevitable. Even with the greatest union among ourselves, the crisis is sufficiently difficult for him. Some of us have blamed him for declining arbitration. But if there be any foundation for the suspicions to which we have here given vent, it may be difficult to find an arbitrator upon whose impartiality we could depend. For our own part, we breathe freely since we have been satisfied on the two important points: The quarrel is not of our seeking, and the right is on our side. If we can maintain this position, we shall cheerfully submit to any trials and dangers which may come upon us, and never doubt the result. OREGON AND THE PRESIDENT. We have read the Oregon negotiation and think Mr. Buchanan's part of it admirable. It develops the point which gave us the greatest difficulty, and which, in our opinion, operates most against the American claim in the minds of those who do not go beyond the surface, beyond the prima facie case. Thus it has appeared: We claim the whole coast up to the Russian possessions, deriving our rightin part, and for the north part entirely, from Spain. Great Britain says in answer, "Your claims are greater than Spain made, for she, by the Nootka Sound convention, agreed to a joint ownership. Our rights are so clear, and were then so clear, that we should have made war against Spain, had she not recognized them, which she did, and we have ever since held possession." With France on the south we should have a continual war of smuggling going on-and very many other occasions of contention would arise to turn our jealousy and animosity away from England, who would then feel much more secure of her position at the head of nations. We cannot but think it would be a stroke of English policy This is the strong point, to the popular reader, worthy of the Fiend himself, thus to set her two that is, to almost everybody in the United States great rivals at work, to worry and weaken both. and Great Britain. But it now appears to be enIt ought to be impossible for such a policy of their tirely without foundation. What Great Britain government to be supported by a people to whom threatened war about, was, not that Spain had by speech, literature, habits and religion, we are so usurped territory, but that she had confiscated much assimilated. But it would encounter little British property: just as France and England have opposition from the religious mass, which is fanati-threatened Mexico for the same reason. cal on the subject of slavery ;-or from the capitalists, who are disgusted with our repudiation. Mexico has sometimes endeavored to prevent foreigners from settling in her territory for the purpose of trade, and she has, by the governments, to which they belonged, been obliged to give up her intention, and the traders have remained and traded, but this would not be a sufficient foundation for a claim to joint sovereignty on the part of such gov Mexico, with one million of white inhabitants, and seven millions of Indians, negroes, and mulatJoes, will not be considered entitled to any more bearance from England and France, on the score of civilization, than has been shown by them to the Arabs and East Indians. In many points of viewernments. it may be thought a disadvantage to us to extend If we are right, the British negotiator misrepour boundaries-but we have been so comfortable resents the Nootka Sound convention, and builds while "dwelling among our own people," that we his argument upon the misrepresentation, so that ought to suit to many inconveniences, rather even if the Nootka Sound convention were still in than encounter the intrusion of quarrelsome stran-existence, instead of having been put an end to by gers and rivals. As lessening this danger, we are the war which Spain afterwards waged against glad of the annexation of Texas; we should rejoice England, no pretension to territory could be mainin the purchase of California; we should vote for tained from it. The American claim to the counthe incorporation of Mexico. try watered by the Columbia, as founded upon discovery, exploration, purchase of Louisiana and settlement, is clearly shown. We have the best reason to be satisfied with both our admirable secretaries of state; and with the caution, as well as firmness of the president, in the management of a difficulty which has been thrust upon him. Although we have this dwelt upon the inducements which the governments of England and France may have to a wa. with us, we do not think they are sufficiently weighty to counterpoise the arguments for peace which will weigh with England; and we hope that she may take the REMINISCENCES OF THE LATEe elizabeth fRY. | the benefit of her fellow-creatures. "THE Friend," a London journal, introduces a sketch of Mrs. Fry from the Norfolk News. "Of her it may truly be said, that whilst her 'witness is in heaven,' and her record upon high,' it is also inscribed, in living characters of veneration and love, on the hearts of thousands of varied station, name, and country, to whom, through submission to the effectual operation of the grace of God, she was made a ministering spirit; comforting the mourners, warning the careless, instructing the ignorant, and, in strains of heavenly invitation, beseeching all to come and partake of the waters of life. Being led by the power and love of Him who came to seek and to save that which was lost,' she yielded her spirit to commiserate the multiplied forms of human woe; not shrinking even from willing sympathy with that awful gloom that envelopes the soul of the desponding sinner, trembling on the verge of the fathomless gulf; and she was made the blessed instrument of directing many of these, to that Almighty Saviour, whose hand of mercy was still extended to pluck these brands from the burning. May the influence of that divine compassion which was so eminently infused into the heart of this devoted servant of Christ, animate many who survive, to go and do likewise."" Elizabeth Fry was the third daughter of the late John Gourney of Earlham Hall, near Norwich. When a child, she was remarkable for the strength of her affections, and the vivacity of her mind, and early learned the lesson of enhancing the pleasure and happiness, and soothing the cares and sorrows of all around her. As she grew up, philanthropy became a marked and settled feature in her character, and she took great delight in forming and superintending a school on her father's premises, for poor children. The effect which her gentle authority and kind instructions produced, in these objects of her care, was indicative of that remarkable gift of influencing others for good, which was so distinguishing a feature in her character in after life. Notwithstanding this and some similar pursuits, she was in no small degree attached to the vain pleasures of the world, and was herself peculiarly attractive to such as were making those pleasures their object. But infinitely higher and better things awaited her. In consequence of a complaint which appeared to be of a serious character, the instability of all temporal things became, unexpectedly, matter of personal experience; and soon afterwards, under the searching, yet persuasive ministry of the late William Savery, she became deeply serious. Her affections were now directed into the holiest channel; the love of the world gave way to the love of Christ: and she evinced the reality of her change, by becoming a consistent member of our society. This change, however, was far from disqualifying her for those social endearments, which a widowed father and ten beloved brothers and sisters claimed at her hands. On the contrary, she became more than ever the joy and comfort of the home circle, until the year 1800; when at the age of twenty she married Joseph Fry of London, and settled in the heart of that metropolis. Here she became the mother of a numerous young family, over whom she exerted the tenderest maternal care; yet her domestic relations did not prevent her laboring with constant zeal and assiduity for The poor found in her an unfailing friend, and numerous indeed were the instances in which cases of distress were first personally examined by her, and afterwards effectually relieved. She was eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame, and the cause which she knew not, she searched out. Deeply impressed with a sense of the incomparable value of that grace, of which she was herself so large a partaker, she found it to be her indispensable duty to declare to others what God had done for her soul, and to invite her fellow-men to come, taste, and see for themselves, how good the Lord is. The sweetness and liveliness of her communications, the clearness and force of her Christian doctrine, and the singular softness, power, and melody of her voice, can never be forgotten by those who have heard her, whether in public or private. She was often engaged in gospel missions, to other parts of England, and, subsequently, to a large extent, in Scotland, Ireland, and on the continent of Europe; in the course of which, as well as at other times, she found abundant opportunities of putting forth her energies in the subordinate, yet highly important character of a Christian philanthropist. She visited hospitals, prisons, and lunatic asylums, and often addressed the inmates of these and other institutions, in a manner which was most remarkably adapted to the state of her hearers. Well did she know, in dependence on divine influence, how to find her way to the heart and understanding of the child at school, the sufferer on a sick bed, the corrupt and hardened criminal, and even the wild and wandering maniac; and thousands, both in her native land and in foreign countries, have risen up around her, and "called her blessed in the name of the Lord." The leading object, however, of her benevolent exertions, was the melioration of prisons. Her long and persevering attention to this object, which continued to be dear to her until her end came, commenced with a circumstance, which is already well known to the public, both at home and abroad. At an early period of her life in London, she was informed of the terrible condition of the female prisoners in Newgate. The part of the prison allotted to them was a scene of the wildest disorder. Swearing, drinking, gambling, and fighting were their only employments; filth and corruption prevailed on every side. Notwithstanding the warnings of the turnkeys, that her purse and watch, and even her life, would be endangered, she resolved to go in without any protection, and to face this disorganized multitude. After being locked up with them, she addressed them with her usual dignity, power, and gentleness; soon calmed their fury, and fixed their attention, and proposed to them a variety of rules for the regulation of their conduct, to which, after her kind and lucid explanations, they all gave a hearty consent. Her visits were repeated again and again; and with the assistance of a committee of ladies, which she had formed for the purpose, she soon brought her rules to bear upon the poor degraded criminals. Within a very short time the whole scene was marvellously changed. Like the maniac of Gennesareth, from whom the legion of devils had been cast out, these once wild and wretched creatures were seen neatly clothed, busily employed, arranged under the care of monitors, with a matron at the head of them, and, comparatively speaking, in their right mind. In carrying on her measures of re |