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Among Scenes of Oriental Magnificence and Splendor Bafillnz Description. There is no twilight in Ceylon. When the sun sets darkness falls suddenly upon the earth, and the stars shine out as if some hand had turned on the starlight. And it is thick darkness, too ; so that an anthropo- logical speculation is born in my mind, that the dark complexions of these people are due to the primitive survival of the night- like. A Shinghalese man is invisible against the ni ht, and the trend of his bare foot is inaudi la. The lighter. more visible varie- ties of their race would have been killed ed by invaders and wild beasts, and those who mimicked the night would be passed by. In addition to this the predatory class would be successful in the proportion that, as it is said in the book of J ob. they were marked by the night. The Colombo coaohman will not drive a step after 6 o’clock unless his lamps are lit, lest he should run over asleep- ing native. This darkness lends a special beauty to the bungalows of the rich, which appear illuminated, the rays from their lamps shining through the foliage in a mys- tical way, es ecially if they be oocoanut-oil lamps, whic give a soft, spiritual light. The most palatial bungalow in Columbia, I should say' is that of Mutu Camera Swamy, whose hos itslity and that of his brothers was exten ed to me in consideration of my friendship for their uncle, the late Sir Cum- ara Swamy. As I drove up through the large park of palmsI radiant with fire-flies, the bungalow looked like A FAIRY PALACE IN THE DISTANCE ; but when I arrived and entu‘ed, it was a fairy palace. I feel sadly in need of some new similitudes. I am trying to write with- out referring to the “Arabian Nights," but it is not easy when I recall the verandahs, porticos. rooms of such a mansion and the entertainment of last evening. The tropi- cal heat was made pleasant by the gentle wind blowing from the neighboring sea through the open doors. It was difficult,” one passed amid the flowering trees and flo- ral festoons, to say just where the garden ended and the verandah began, or even the drawing-room, which had flown-laden trees in each corner, flowers and wreaths eVery- where. In front of the chair of honor to which I was conducted, stood a high table, and thereon a silver salver covered with stemless flowers,arranged with artistic skill. From the centre of the salver, which was nearly a yard long, roseseveral slowly-burn- ing stems, whose incense filled the air with a sweet and subtle perfume. The odors. mingled with the soft light of the cocoa lamps, shed their influence upon seers and scene with a sensuous efl'ect quite indescrib- able. When our beautiful hostess entered, with her rich Oriental robe, and the tur- baned Tamil took his place behind her with large peacock fan, I saidâ€"“No doubt, that is Maya, goddess of illusion, who has waved her wand and begun her air-woven mask.” But when presently a blonde young lady entered, in unmistakable English evening dress, realism came with her humorOus clear eyes. There were but four or five foreign- ers present, and we had an opportunity of satisfying our curiosity in several thingsâ€" for instance, chewing alittle betel and mak- ing our teeth red with it. On the walls were sacred pictures, one of the infant Krishna and his mother, the new-born babe’s head haloed with light. One side of the drawing-room was partly open, and from the room beyond we presently heard a slight jingling of silver ornaments, next caught flashes from jewelled hair, and after this the flash of dark eyes glancing into the room. Five N autch girls entered with five men, singers and musicians. The girls sat in a row on the floor facing us, and the men behind them, the plain snow-white of the latter making a background for the RICH COSTUMES OF THE DANCERS. These Nautch costumes, though glowing with color and laden with jewels, were not gaudy, nor even gorgeous ; they were some- what barbaric, but had a certain antiquar- ian character about them that was very pleasing. In old conventional pictures of goddesses and heroinesâ€"Draupadi, Dam- yanti, Sitaâ€"one may see dresses resembling these, with the exception of the silken trousers. These probably are the addition of a more prudish age. The Singhalesc N autch girls are dressed with scrupulous re- gard to decorum. These are all small of stature, several of them pretty, and the pearls and gold they wear, always excepting the nose-gems, and the silver anklets above their bare feet, well become their dusky beauty. Soon after they had seated them- selves ou the floor all, men and women, be- gan to sing. It sounded as a cfi‘ant with grace-notes at the end of each bar, and my host, who sat beside me, told me it was a hymn to Siva. I did not like it much ; it impressed‘my ear as nasal, not to say whin. PRECISELY AS THEY RECEIVED THEM. The great piece of the evening was a long dramatic love-song of extreme antiquity, sung by all the performers, male and fe- male, accompanied by full instrumentation, and danced by the lending Nautch girl, who alone did not sing. Her gestures were very expressive, and I was at times reminded of the French saying : “What can’t be said can be sung. and what can’t be sung can be danced.” The feet had little more to do with the dance than to bear fer-ward and backward the swaying, or rather undulst. ing‘, and decidedly monotonous. Then fol- lowed a love-song, and for a. few moments it sonnded like the same hymn over again ; but as I listened mcre closelyâ€"as I tried to detach the accompaniment of tom-tom, pipe, and Violâ€"I perceived that there was more variety and more science in this music than my ear could easily take in. For the first time it occurred to me that part of the fault I found in Oriental music might lie in my ear being not sufficiently cosmopolitan. But at the same time I felt sure that this music was not a product of art in the Euro- pean sense of art; it was not a thing that aimed at beauty alone ; it had ulterior pur- poses, to move the compassion of a god or a lover, and was a. cry wrung one of the strug- gle for existence. It is a remarkable fact that all the ancient love-songs of India are uttered by women to men. My host, whose studies of such subjects have been careful and extensive, told me that, judg- ing by the ancient love-songs, the love- making used to be entirely 0n the part of women. These Nautch girls belonged to the Hindu temple, and they sing and dance only these very ancient themes, transmitting them to their children with extreme literal- ness, Dancing or the Nantch Girlsâ€"Tho cred Drama of nannohandxn. A‘ DAY IN CEYLON. ingI ft rm, while the arms were ever on the move, and the fingers twisted themselves into a thousand variations. None of these hand movements were the some, and each meant something. The first scene panto. mimed, so to say. was the first zlimpse of the beloved, told in embarrassment, medita- tion, and then the flinging up of the arms in appeal to the god of love. Then followed the first ccqnettish attempt to fascinate himâ€" now b coyness,next by 3 display of charms. Then ollows dismayâ€"the beloved makes no sign of reqnital. The maiden becomes mel- ancholy. weeps ; then she becomes pssaion- ate, and confesses to him her love. He is still cold, sud she is jealous. Finding he loves no other, she ssks it he is is man who is thus unmoved by Women's love. He then proposes illicit love ; that she refuses with an indignation that turns to sorrow. is thus unmoved by woman's love. He then proposes illicit love ; that she refuses with an indignation that turns to sorrow. Then she become angryâ€"and when her anger melts the heart of her be10ved aldb melts. Then her finale of joy is danced. Much in this dance was touching, much was exciting, and it was all of absorbing inter- est; when the girl sat down, breathless, it for the first time occurred to me that she had been dancing fifteen minutes without an instant's pause : and yet the last thing I should have ascribed to it is beauty. It was all too serions for that. It is a strange thing to reflect on the sublime secu- larism of the fact that such a chant and dance as that just described at times make Bart of the Hindu temple-service. “'hen avid danced before the ark could it have beenâ€"but I muan‘t get too profound. There were other dances, one of the most striking being A dance to the words, ~V._B _ ___-- -- -7- “morass, A scospros HAS s'roxo ME I" These words were endlessly repeated in the chant, though in varying tones, while the dancer goes through all the drama of pain, illness, parting, faintness, dtoth. This was skillful, and so were all the dances. Those in which all the Nautch girls dancedâ€"es- pecially one in which they fenced with each otuerâ€"were more beautiful ; but it was the more ancient dances, representing love and death, which I found most interesting. After the danceswere over I had an unexpecL- ed delightin hearing the singing of the closing acts oi the great sacred drama of “Harisch- andra.” I first made the acquaintance of this wonderful play, which may fairly be described as the “Passion Play" of India, through a trantlation by the late Sir Cum~ are. Swamy. It is of apical dignity and pa.- thetic beauty. Harishandra. is "The Mar- tyr of Truth." The prologue is in the court of the supreme deity, Indra, where the truthfulness of the great king is affirmed by one and denied by another. The result is a wager. Harischandra is subjected to the moat terrible ordeal: in order to induce him to tell a lie. He stands by his word at cost of his kin dem, his wife, his childâ€"these and himse f becoming slaves. In the end all their pri secutors throw off their disguise and are snown to be gods. and everything is restored. The poem is much the same as that of Job in the Hindu Paurans, where the test is not of Harishandra’s veracitylbut of his fidelity to his promise of gold for a sacrifice to the gods When he no longer has the gold (his ropertv being destroyed, as Job’s was.) his gold he obtains by SELLING HIMSELF AND FAMILY into slavery. The popular form has hu- manised, but not exactly raised. the motive. My friend who set by me translated for me in a low voice every sentence as it was sung, and then I began to appreciate something of the meaning of Hindu music. The singer was a. man over 30, with a fine voiceâ€"very flexibleâ€"and though a slight inclination of the head occasionally was his only gesture, the persons of the drama seemed to live in his tones. There is one part of the drama. where the wife of Hanscnandra. Tsmavsti, finds her only son dead. bitten by a serpent. She says to him: “Why do you not speak to me ? \Vhst have I done that you do not reply or look on me 3" One could hardly rexrsin from tears when the man sang these words. And again when Harischendra, or- dered to be the executioner of his wife (charged with child murder), says 2 “Tama- vati, my wife, lsy thy head on the block, thy sweet face turned to the east l” The voice was here most plaintive. and suddenly rang out triumphally when the sword of ex- ecution becomes s necklace of pearls on her neck, and the gods sy homage to the in- flexible "Martyr of ruth.” it is notable that while so many charge these Orientals with being liars, this should be their na- tional drams. It looks as if the Hindu Job were combined with the hero Omye. whose memorial has been translated by Mr. Al- ger : r Otaye, from his earliest youth, Was consecrated unto truth, And if the universe must die Unless Omye told a. lie. He would defy the tate‘s last crash. And let all sink in one pale ash. 0r o'er by any means was wrung One drop of poison from his tongue. As 1 left my friend's house it occurred to me whether it might not be posmble for us to import from the Orient something in the way of an occasional evening entertainment quite as dainty as their new fairly Angelic- ized curryâ€"some aesthetic dish such as that for which I was indebted to the thoughtful kindness of Mutu Gamma Swamy,â€"-M. D. Conway in Glasgow Herald. Well Met. “ There." she said, as she raised a. window in a Pullman car the other day : “ now I can breathe. The air in this car is stifling. VVny don’t they have better ventilation I If I couldn’t sit next to an open Window I believe I should die.” Presently a, slender female sitting directly back leaned over and asked her if she would- n't just as lieve close that wmdow now, as the draught was more than she could stand. “No, fiadam, I shall not closethis window. I could not live with it dawn. I was just thinking how delightful it; was with it open, now you Want it shut, but I shall not shut it: so there.” “Then you are a selfish thing, and I shall huge to change my agate.” Just then a. gentleman sitting close by reached over and said: “ Ladies, that window being raised makes no difl‘erence‘ as this car has double windows, and not a. breath of air can possibly get through the one that is still down." Then the one that had raised the window turned to the other, and. with a crushed look on her face, said : “ Madam, I beg your pardon, but I thxnk two fools have met at last.” Of the 27,672,048 inhabitants of France, 1,101,090 are foreigners. of whom 432,266 are from Belgium, 240,7 33 from Italy, 81,- 986 from Germany, 73,781 from Spain, 66,- 281 from Switzexland, and only 47,066 from the British Isles. The number of naturaliz- ed persons is but 77,046. JUST AS SHE TOLD IT. What time is it? Lor-rdl we'll have half an hour to wait. and I do hate sitting round in a. hotel with nothing to giq._ Ain't New Orleans an awfully funny place? It: can’t hold a. candle to Chicago. Some one told us to visit the French quarter; but, my goodness lâ€"its awfully shabby: just awfully shabby; and as for the French Market, you get up at an unearthly early hour in the morning, and the coffee they have’s fit to poison you. I think it's your duty to see everything that’s to be seen ; so laid to the chamber-maid. the other day, “ Where are your handsome dwelling- houses 7" So we wpent, andâ€"would you believe it? â€"they're all made of wood I Did you ever I Yes ; this is a dreadfully queer place. I used to have sort of romantic notions about the Southâ€"thought it must be just per-r- feot. I thought, don’t you know, you wore white dresses all winter, and sat on piezzas in hammocks, and that the Southern men were all dark, and tall, and very fiery : and the darkiee were so funny, and sang, and played on banjos ; but, acioua ; they behave just like every one a se; and as for white dresses. I've never come so near freez- ingjo fleathjp all my life. i v “Art: I out Prytania and St. Charles, mum, thgre’s ilegaqt fine_manaions, ' she agid. Vii‘néd 65am any ibat’a because I never read anything, not listen to what any one's saying: _ _But Qantuain’t it‘ at all. . " u You'd just die if you knew Fred. He's1 the funniest boy. Awfull nice, don'tI you know, only he will prose a about literature and culture. Ont he's too funny. Why, when he likes one book by an author, he must rush right off and read all the reel; of ’em. He read David Cop’fiddâ€"did you ever read David Cop’field‘! Well, I did, and I declare I thought I’d be old and gray before I got through ; but I'd promised Fred I’d read it. Well, then he read all of Dickuns. Same way about Thack’ray. He began Vanity Fair, and just went crazy about Thuck'ray. Ever read Vanity Fair .7 Ain't it simply awful T I told Fred I just wouldn’t read it, if he never spoke to me again. Then thafBecky Sharp, too. A girl at our school wrote a compouition about Backy Sharp. What did she say about her? Lor-r-d! I didn’t listen to it. A111 know is, it was about_Bec_ky Sharp. " Fred ain’t a bit like me. Now when I like one book by an author, I never read another, because I think I‘d be sure not to like it half so well, and then I’d get to hate the whole lot like poison. But you mustn’t think Fred ain't nice. He's real handsome and fascinating ; has big brown eyes and the cutess moustache ; only he will be superior, and it’s so fatiguing. Now what‘s the use being superior? Why can’t yen just be happy and sensible? I've known Fred for per-r-fect ages. Why. he used to walk to school with me, and carry my books. But that was laat year, for I've been out ever so long. We used to quarruel like cats. One day he said to me. "Marie Cassidy. do you ever intpnd to be anything but a. fnvolous butter- fly 2" "Frivolous fiddlestiok’a end I" said I, and I spoke very severely, too. “if you want superiority, just visit; mommer seven evenings 3 week.” MoEmer’s superior enough, gracious knows. The way she goes in for general in- formaitiorndis sitpply awfgl. “Well.” said 11-9, “ if you are content to remainâ€"" “Fred Delbert,” I said, "am I a grimn or a 053191“ 1”. “'Wb}, of course not,” he said opening tbeuLbjg eyes of Pis._ ‘ V “Well. then I ain’t 'a Cyclops. that’s settled, and opper has lots of moneyâ€"just dead loads ofpibâ€"so what do I want with superiority? I'm sorry you find me so un- attractive. There’s De Laney Witherington, he says my eyes are like bits of heaven on earth, andâ€"” \Vell, somehow or other we made up agnin, and I made him kiss Gibi, because he'd said such horrid things about the poor little pet. Gibi’s just killing ; you ought to see him. Fréd got so mad he regularly stamped. “Don’t quote to me the inane remarks of an idiot.” he aboufed. r "Anyhow," I said, "he likes me inst as I am, and he isn’t always treading on my p001: l_ittle pug.':_ . “I hate finial,” said Fred. “They alwaws look ag if theytre making _f‘a.ces.” Fred and I were sort of enga ed. Not quite, though, because popper ssi Fred was young, and I was young, and he didn’t want to give up his little girl just yet awhile. That made me cry, and feel real badly, because I’ve never been anything but; the bother of his life. But Fred and I had a. serious row once. You see, there was 2. girl staying with Mrs. Calvin, in our block; Pamela Stone- henge was her name, and she came from somewhere East. Some people said she was so elegant and charming, and talked about her "classic outline," but. Lor-r-d ! she was so tall and thin. and her nose was miles :00 long. I don’t care what anybody says, it was long. _ u... p . ‘1'! She a.“ dreadfully profound and high- toned, and Fred began to fly around her a little. I didn’t let on I cared a. bit, because lwaan't going to set him up, but I just fluted awfully withVDe‘ Laney." It was at 'Mra. Jenifer’s Ball. and De Laney and I were sitting on the stairs, when I saw Fred and the classic Pamela skipping off to the conservatory. Ain't men too heartless? I was sure he must have something impor- tant to say to her, so I told De Laney I wanted to stroll about and look at the flowers; and of course he agreed, for he was mashedâ€"regularly mashed. I passed as close to Fred and Pamela. as I could. They were talking in a. low, earnest tone, and I heard someming about “a. scheme of cogrnic philosophy." Now-did you ever I The idea of dragg- ing a girl off into a. conservatory to whisper such jaw-breaking things in her ear ! I xelt sort of relieved, for it's a. comfort, after all, to have a lover who's too big a, goose to flirt wi_th other gigls. But when I thonght it over that night, while I wan taking out my hair-pins I began to think there might be more in it than met the eye. I don’t know but it was the intel- lectual way of marking. !ove. ‘ I was very cold to him when he brought me chocolate creams. I told him I abomin- ated chocolate, and it was very plain he found it tuo troublesome to remember r‘y likes and dislikes. Well, then, in the midst of this, he had BY JULIE K. WETHERILL. to go to St. Louis on business ; and while he was away I repented, and began to feel sort of soft about him. He had written he was retty sure to be home Tuesday evening. E was sitting by the window. and the gas was turned low, and somehow I felt blue. 1 could see Mrs. Calvin’s house, where that horrid Pamela Stonehenge was staying ; and as I was look ing two men went up Mrs. Calvin's steps. It was a hateful shOWery night ; but they were laughing and talking, and when they put down their umbrellas I saw something that made me jump. \Voll, who should walk in bright and early the next morning but Fred himself! He looked paleâ€"with remorse, I thought. But icebergs and polar bears were nothing to me in the wa._y of coldness. Fred has an. umbrella with the funniest head, an ebony skull with Rhine-atone eye: that flash in the most lite-Ilka way, and there that thing was winking at me in the gas light across the street. I was so mad I just criedâ€"regularly howled. To think that Fred would go to sea her first of all 1 ‘ He turned very red, and stared at me. Then he said : “What do you mean 2 What argzpq ta}king about Ej’ .. u v "be of oouurse you haven’t an idea," I said ; and so it went on from bad to worse, until he just got up and remarked. with the- moat dreadful dignity. He began. "I wanted to see you the first thing .Marlsrj'. _ "Ivudeed T" I interruptel. “I feel quite honored." “You seem to be accusing me of some, thing ; but as you will not do me the justice to explain dyounielf, I will bid you good- morning an _good-by, Min- Caaaidy.” Oi cont-ea I never meant him to get on his dignity, and when I saw him going I had half a mind to run after him, only I was too pro_ud. Two or three days used, but still no Sign nor sympton of red. Mommer was getting ready to go to Chautauqua, and the house was turned upside down, and I was fairly distracted. At last I just wrote him a. few lines, telling him I wished to explain something. I waned all that day, and all the next, but no answer came. Then I got desperate. I just decided life wasn’t worth living. and I’d be superior, and go in for sociology and demonology, and all that sort of thing. So I told mommer I was going to Chautau- qua. with her, and she said she was glad I had awakened at length to a. sense of my own deficiencies ; and we started 05. It isn’t any fun to travel with mommer. See always declares she’s sufi'ocating in the Pullman, and she thinks the train is running 03 the track every few minutes. and drives the conductors half crazy asking questions. Then she’s always dropping her eyeglasses and hand -bag and handkerchiefâ€"particularly her handkerchief. I tell her it's like the French exercises. "0n est le mouchoir de ma. maze P But that makes her hopping mad. Cbautauqua’s an awful bore. don"t you know-11. lot of old drenea and mummies going about, and pretending they enjoy it so much. I believe they really hate 1:, only they {kink it looks nice to be profound. And then Palestine Park 1 Oh, my 1 how those Eastern people can make such guys of themselves, and dress in bag: that havn’t any hang. or fit. or anything, Ican’l: im- agine. Momma: would drag me about every- where, to improve my mind, she said. She has a mania tor measurements and calcula- tions, and one day she was calculating the dimensions of the Great Pyramid, and I said, “Lor-râ€"d, mommer I you must have been evolved from a measuring-worm." She didn't like it one bit. but I think she ought to have been glad I knew how to apply my knowledge. I was :0 braken-bearted I took up Hebrew, and it ’most blinded me. How people could avg: have talked Ain such a language?! Well. one day I was in the steamboat on the lake. and I was looking over my account book. Popper always makes such a point of my keeping accounts, because he says it teaches me the value of money, but no one ever knew the value of money better than I do. I had Gibi with me, and its awfully expensive boarding with a dog; and then the servants are always so grasping! I declare they’re just like those horrid daugh- ters of the horse-leech that said, "Give! give 1” though why the daughters were a bit worse than the sons I never could see, only people are al ways slandering women. floxfiehow or other I never can get my accounts to come exactly right. There were four dollars I couldn’t ac want for. no I just put them down to “ charity,” because "sundries" has such an “businesslike look. thongh, to tell the tram, I'd only given ten oegts to an organ-grinder. 'I was so hard at? work that I never noticed that I'd been taken ever, so far past where I ought to have got out, so I just, stepped at the next stopping-place, and waited for another boat; to take me back. I: was quite a pretty spot, with trees and things. and a sort of cave not {at OE; and I sat and gazed at the beauties of nature till I was most starved. All at once I heard a. noise be- hind me, and I looked around and there we} Fred coming out of the cave I Aâ€" horrid; unfeeling twinkle came into his eye, and he said, "Do you remember Miss Stpnhehengez” "‘VVfio‘sumisel-ab-le?” I enquired. “Sgweak for_ypuree}[f, Frqdjl meap Delbqrt. ’ _ I I thought for a. moment maybe remorse had driven him to retire from the world and be 1! hermit. Wouldn't that have been to- mantic ? I glanced at him very haughtily, but he began right away : “ Miss Cassidyâ€"oh, Mariel don't let us make ourselves miserable by keeping this up I” "Oh yes," said I. icily. “She has such a long nose I” ' “She has it stillâ€"” “Don’t jrst on such a. subject, if you please,” I said. ‘ "Well," said Fred, “ I admit that it is a. serious one. The point is that she was married last week to a. Professor of Sans- krit.” Then he said a lot of absurd things I won‘t repeat ; and I told him how I thought he'd gone to see Pamela. that evening. It turned out that the poor boy had come back sick with malarial féver, and wasn’t able to leave the house ; and Ned Parkinson had dropped in and borrowed his umbrella. “I aupfnse she's refuped you,” I said; “3.351 yqu’veppmfa to_m_e to lgeAqousoled.” _> “But that doesn’t explain your not anavzgring my n_ote,’_' I said: “ You Zea, when it came I was very sick at my rooms. and there wasn’t a. soul to do anything for me but an old man with a wigâ€"" 7‘ Well, did his wig prevent you from writing to me 2" I asked : for sax-cutie wheuI feel like it. “Of course not ; but I was too sick even to raise my head As soon All I could stand, I rushed around to see you ; but you had gone. Dellie Juues told me that you had gone to Chautauqua. ; so I followed you, and here I am.” “thl,” I said, very aternl , “I'll forgive you this nme, Fred ; but you we treated me very badly. And, Fred, she has got. a. long noseâ€"hasn’t she 2" "Shockingly," be said. So we were married, and came South for awedding journey; andâ€"0h! there’s Fred, It's time to start. Ain’t he a darling? Do tell meâ€"is my bang all right? Thanks, ever so much 1 By-by. Chinese Lepersâ€"A Great Bellâ€"Hotels ln- Switzerlandâ€"Hard Times in Cnbaâ€"&c. &c From 1876 82 the population of Norway creased 104. 000. The Norwegians, twenty or twenty-five years ago, had plenty of oysters, but now they have scarcely any. The Austrian Parliament has lately pass- ed a. measure assuring compensation to per; sons who have been wrongly convicted. There are nineteen Chinese [opera in a. San Francisco hospihl awaiting return to their native land. The return is delayed because of the difficulty the steamship companies find in landing such cases at Hong Kong. It is reported that the French Govern- ment in about I0 lay a further length of 4,530 miles of underground telegraph wires. the cost of which will be about. $11,000,000. Cholera is increasing at Calcutta, two hun- dred and fifty-seven deaths having occurred there from the scourge last week. A steam- ship which has arrived at Suez had two geaths on her voyage from Bassein, Bom- 3y. A despatch from Matamoras, Mexico, save the conditxon of affairs of the Government is deplorable, charges financial rottenness, and intimates a. revolution it a greatly bet- ter state of things is not spaednly brought about. At the temples of Ktoto, Japan, is the great bell cast in 1633. It is 18 feet high. 9 feet in diameter, and 91]; inches thick. Its weight is nearly 74 tons. About 1,500 pounds of gold are said to have been incor- porated in the composition. Its tone is magnificent. When struck with the open hand its sound can be heard aha. distance of a hundred yards. In regard to the state of affairs in Egypt the following dispatch from Cairo tells a sad taleâ€"There are 138 men, women, and children of all ages in the infirmary at Tou- rah, living like wild beasts in indescribable filth and neglect. Among the inmates are several raving madmen Who are sometimes unchalned. There are other inmates in every stage of the most loathsome diseases. Two black men walk about entirely naked. In New South Wales all labour in paid by the day of eight hours. Carpenters, 10s. to 125. (city). 13-1. (auburba);stonema.sons, 116. to 12s ; stonemasons’ labourers, 8;. to 10s.; plasterers, lls. tol4|.; plasterers’ labourers, 85. to 10s; bricklayers. 123. to 133.; brick- layers’ labourers. 8i. 110103.; painters, 93. to 11s.; joiners, 103. to 12s.: plumbers, 115. to 125 ;ga.sfitters. 95. to 113.; sawmill hands, 9d. to 15. per hour. At Caeur d'AIene, says a traveller who re- cently arrived at Denver, everything is very dear. It costs twenty-five cents to get a paper by mail, and fifty cents for a letter. Nothing is considered less than I quarter. Shaving is a quarter, hair cutting fifty cents. any kind of a meal costs $1, and eggs fifty cents extra. You can't get a place to slap for less than 1, even though you bunk on the floor. Some bad dividends have been lately an- nounced by steam shipping companies, but the Cunard Company has, acooriing to the Pall Mall Gazette, made an exceptionally wretched report. N o dividend whatever has been earned for the pat year. while 4 per cent. was paid in May last. 3 per cent. in May, 1832, and 6 per cent. in May, .1881. Tue times are explzsined to have been gener- ally bad for steam shipping during the past year, as to which there is no son of doubt, and thelines of shi ping running to America have not been the eat to feel the want of remunerative freight. In a recent scientific feuilleton in the Paris Debuts, M. Henri Parville quotes a reference to the singular action of oil on waves by Theophylictes, the Byzantine historian of the sixth century. The passage occurrs in a dialogue on “various natural questions." The question propounded is, why oil makes the sea calm ? and the answer given is to the effect that as the wind is “a subtle and deli- cate thing," and oil is “adhesive, unctuous, and smoothe," the wind glides over the sur- face of the water on which oil has been spread, and cannot raise waves. The wind, in fact. slips over the water without being able to obtain a grip, so to speak. A Parisian correspondent says Ethet the archaeological researches on the site of an- cientCarthage, conducted by Messrs. Solo- mon Reinach and Ernest Babelon, have brought to light a number of objects of his- torical and artistic importance. Conforma- bly to the instructions of the French insti- tute, this scientific mission has been chiefly occupied in determining the relative levels of the Roman and the Panic soil on the site of Cabbage. The great accumulation of rubbish and stones which forms the upper layer of the Carthaginian soil renders the work of excavation long and difficult. Five metres deep 3. series of wells, cisterns, and cellsrs of the Panic ecoch has been discov~ MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS. ere4 Cuba is at present passing through a. peri- od of extreme commercial depression. One resultof this is to increase the dissatisfaction with Spanish rule. Even the wealthy plant- ers who formerly were fierce Spanish parti- sans, and aided in suppressing that long- continued insurrection which ended Only a few years ago, are now somewhat disloyal themselves, and inclined to favor indepen- dence or annexation to the United States. They do not want Cuba; and as that is pretty well understood, independence is mostly discussed. The country is ripe for any re- volt that may be started. Aguero's attempt, which a few days ago was so insignificant as to be laughed at by the Spanish officials, has already met with such encouragement that it is now undeniably formidable, and there is no telling what may be its out- come. nbe