"The Dahoman capital is, in fact entirely unprotected by its walls and gates, and built in the most ill judged of posi tions for so large a city. For a distance of five miles on every side there is no water. Passing out of the north gate, the traveller soon arrives at a most beautiful point of view. Standing on an eminence of some hundred feet, a fertile valley lies stretched at his feet, bounded in the extreme north-west by the lofty summits of the Dab-a-Dab hills, tinged with blue, and looming larger from the distant view. Here and there about this fertile plain are small oozy reservoirs of water, from which the sole supply of that necessary element is obtained for the populous city. With so scanty and precarious a supply, it may well be supposed that fresh water is a luxury in Abomey, and the cry of Seedagbee (good water) as constant as ths Agua de Lisboa of the Gallegos in Portugal. On the northeastern side of the capital, the farms are dependant solely on the rain water collected during the rainy season, and secured in deep pits smeared on the inside with palm oil, whence it is drawn off into earthen vessels, and thus stored up within the houses until the return of the rainy period." "No visitor can enter the capital, | red clay walls, which enclose large forest Abomey, without a sensation of disap- trees, besides orange, banana, and other pointment in the want of grandeur, and fruit trees. All the houses are low and disgust at the ghastly ornaments of its thatched, and one only, in the palace of gateway. The city is about eight miles Dange-lah-cordeh, and one in that of in circumference, surrounded by a ditch, Cumassee, can boast of two storeys. about five feet deep, filled with the prickly acacia, its only defence. It is entered by six gates, which are simply clay walls crossing the road, with two apertures, one reserved for the king, the other a thoroughfare for his subjects. In each aperture are two human skulls; and on the inside a pile of skulls, human, and of all the beasts of the field, even to the elephant's. Besides these six gates, the ditch, which is of an oval form branches off, at each side the north-west gate, to the north and north-west, and over each branch is a similar gateway, for one only purpose, to mislead an enemy in a night attack. In the centre of the city are the palaces of Dange-lah-cordeh and Agrim-gomeh, adjoining; on the north stands the original palace of Dahomey; about these, and to the south gate, are houses, the most conspicuous of which are those of the ministers. In front of Agrim-gomeh is an extensive square, in which are the barracks and a high shed or palaver house, a saluting battery of fifteen guns, and a stagnant pond. Just inside the south-east gate (the Cannah) are a saluting battery and pond, and numerous blacksmiths' shops. The roads or streets are in good order; and, though there are not any shops, the want of them is supplied by two large markets-Aha-jah-ee, to the eastward of the central palace, at once a market, THE OAK OF SAINTES.-Among the oak trees, parade, and sacrificial ground; and Hung-of those that have been accurately measured, the jooloh, just outside the south gate. Be-largest in Europe is no doubt that near the town sides these, there are several smaller of Saintes, in the department of the Charente markets, the stalls of which are all owned, is sixty-four English feet high, has a diameter of Inferieure, on the road to Coyes. This tree, which and are generally attended, by women, twenty-nine and a-half English feet near the the wives of all classes and orders, from ground. In the dead part of the trunk a little the miegan's to the blacksmith's. The feet wide, and nine to ten feet high, with a semichamber has been arranged, from ten to twelve fetish houses are numerous, and ridicu- circular bench. A window gives light to the lously ornamented. Cloths are manufac-interior, so that the sides of the chamber (which tured within the palaces and houses. There are no regular streets, and it is difficult for a European to imagine himself in the capital of a large country, as all the houses are surrounded by high Dahomey, adieu ! is closed with a door) are clothed with ferns and lichens, giving it a pleasing appearance. Judging by the size of a small piece of wood which has been cut out above the door, and in which the the oak of Saintes would be between 1800 and marks of two hundred rings have been counted, 2000 years old.-Humboldt. WHY I DIDN'T MARRY. "OH! what shall we do this weary dreary evening!" so spake my niece Mary at the close of one of those rainy afternoons just before Christmas; it was dull truly, but then old folks, like me, were glad that terrible frost had vanished, which threatened to freeze us all up into icicles. “Tell us a story, Auntie, yes, do tell us a story;" said the young voices in chorus. And the stories I had told! oh dear! stories of the most probable and improbable kind, and my nieces yet clamoured for another. So they folded up their work (the bridal work they were about), placed their feet upon the fender and looked determined. "Tell us why you didn't marry? Auntie," said Emma, a bright-eyed girl of seventeen. "Why! why because of Auntie's name, I'm sure," cried Anna. Now my name is Judith, and as Aunt Judith my nieces alone knew me. "Nonsense," said the bride elect"that's not true." So then, I came in with my quiet voice and said, "I have another name, girls, poetical and romantic enough, and that is Rosalie, and by that I was called in my young days." "Is not that a settler for you, Anna ?" cried Emma, who was given to use her brother's vocabulary. "Will you tell us, Auntie, though?" asked the fair and quiet Mary. Now our thoughts were all running on matrimony at that time, because my eldest niece, the one who had just spoken, was to be married when the new year turned (ah! it's come now and the wedding's over, and Mary's flying about Germany); or else, I, an old woman of more than sixty, should not have begun to prate an old romance to my young nieces, putting silly thoughts into their young heads. So I looked round at the six eager eyes that were intently watching mine, and looked out of the window, and looked into the fire, and as nothing suggested itself by which I could divert | their attention from me and the story they were waiting for, I began "Well girls, I was twenty-two before I'd a single prospect of matrimony. From eighteen to twenty-two, just four years had passed away, and in all that time I had never exchanged a sweet sentence with anybody. Four years! why in that time I might have been appren ticed and learnt a trade, or I might have sailed round the world, or I might have done everything except the very thing I hadn't done-marry. I asked myself the reason for this, was it in my looks? no, surely; there was Miss Smith, yes Anna, only plain Miss Ann Smith-not even had she your terminal vowel to redeem her name from its intense plainness— there was Ann Smith, plain in name and plain in features, married-married well, too, and gone off to live in the fells of Yorkshire. Was it my want of fortune? no, surely, for there was my bosom friend Jane Jesson, not a penny, and not handsome either, married to the most popular lawyer in the county-town. Besides, I was an only daughter, and the world might fairly suppose that I should come into a portion of my father's wealthand my father was reputed wealthy. Well, I was not known, you'll conclude, that was it; I was the identical flower Gray wrote of-blushing unseen, and on desert air wasting its sweetness. No, that wasn't it either, for I knew heaps, yes heaps of gentlemen, who dined, danced, and dinned my ears with their noise and clatter at our house. Then it was my temper-every one knew it was bad, and nobody would have anything to do with such a cross-patch. Stop a bitit was said of me-mind, it's the only good thing I've quoted in my own praise, it was said of me, girls, that I was remarkably amiable! "It's not to be accounted for; it's only a fact, I was twenty-two and unengaged, and I didn't know but what forty-two might find me in the same place. Not that it's so very desirable to marry-(I thought it best to put in a bit of wisdom, those eyes opposite mine were so very bright, and my niece Mary had lost no time-the minx was but twenty) don't think that girls, but I was young and silly then, and have learnt better since, as you will, if you live to be old enough. Well, we lived in this town-in this house, as you know, and on one identical Wednesday-yes! I remember the very day even now-we were going to have a dinner party. I turned round and round my dresses, which were hanging up in my room closet, and thought which I should put on; 'Only Mr. Deerhurst, my father's old partner is coming-and such as he 'I grumbled as I took down an old plaid. Yes, though! there's Major Startling,' and I half unhooked my blue silk. 'What folly!' I exclaimed, he'd never see if I wore a coal sacking,' and I laid hold of the old plaid again. Stop' -some stranger my father had spoken of, and said he might-would if he could, come. What, if it be neither might, could, or would, but should come?' To be on the safe side was best; I gave the old plaid, and even the blue silk, a disdainful whirl, and took down my silvergrey lustre. 6 "But this had all nothing to do with it, girls, nothing to do with it, only you will have a story; for, as for dress, you know, it's not important, so that you are neat looking and never extravagant. Mind, if you ever get chosen for the dress you wear, your husband will care for you just as long as it takes to wear it out nor so long as that, I promise you, if the texture happens to be woollen and it's a good while in coming to tatters. So I went down to the drawing-room to support the dignity of hostess, and was introduced to the stranger. I shook out my silver-grey lustre into becoming folds and mentally blest the wisdom which had left the old plaid in the closet above stairs. We spent a wonderfully pleasant evening, and Mr. Badams was profusely attentive to me. I did not reckon much on that though, because I had been used to attention; it came in with the soup and went out with the after dinner coffee, and I saw and heard no more of it till the hats were hung up in our hall again. However, in thinking over that evening, it occurred to me that Mr. Badams had been struck, and that I had been chatting and laughing a great deal more than was my wont. "The next morning I was very busy in the kitchen, putting up our best glass, and those white and gold coffee-cupsyou know them, girls-ah! to think that John Badams should ever have drunk his coffee out of that very service!-As I was saying, I was so busy, and scolding the maids too for their waste and destruction of the evening before, when a double and treble rap-tap-tap startled me and Hannah, and caused me to break the only saucer which has ever been broken belonging to that same white and gold service. Hannah ran off to open the door, while I gathered up the shreds with an ill grace, keeping one ear open the while for what was passing in the passage. His voice, oh yes! I had soon learnt to know it from all the hundreds of voices of indifferent men, so I was not astonished when Hannah returned saying -Mr. Badams has called to see you, Miss.' "I went; I did not need to run up stairs first and smooth my hair and rearrange my dress; I was always neat and presentable when I was young, girls; and I glanced severely at Emma who is a bit of a slattern. "Well, he stopped nearly an hour, and we talked again, and we got to speak about flowers, and then went, though it was winter time, to walk round the old garden to look at them. Mr. Badams did not know much about flowers, for I remember he called some aconites-buttercups, and said sundry other absurd things; but then I was not in the humour to be critical. So it went on and on, girls, till John Badams settled the matter one day in this same old garden by asking me to become his wife. I had learnt to love him by that time, so I did not say no; then he said he must go away to settle some business before he came back to ask me of my father. "I knew but little of his history, and I had not cared to enquire; the history of our courtship was quite enough to occupy my thoughts, and I left all other histories alone; however, while he was away I happened to hear my father speak of him to Mr. Deerhurst, as they were sitting over their wine one evening. The words were "I can't make him out, he has money in plenty, but no friends in England, and no relations anywhere.' "Rather odd that for a wealthy man,' said Mr. Deerhurst; but the business which brought him to us is all right and above board.' 666 'Quite,' said my father. "I dare not linger to hear more, but for the first time since I had known John Badams I trembled over our future. Yes, there was a cloud rising, I felt it-saw it coming up black and ominous, big enough to overwhelm all my happiness. I knew that Mr. Badams had been out of England for some years, and that he was considerably older than myself; but, to me, he appeared a kind hearted, honest hearted, gentleman; a true man and no spy. He came back after some weeks of absence, and my peace was restored in his presence, only a little lingering doubt kept a dark corner for itself at the bottom of my heart. He came to our house as usual, my father was friendly and polite, and I could not doubt but that John Badams loved me, even me, with an entire all-observing affection, still he lingered and hesitated to speak to my father. "The dinner bell shook my considering cap off my head and sent me into another tremble; and how was I to eat dinner, indeed, choked with so many sensations ? I thought with relief that I had ordered roast ducks, and one could pick a bone without one's want of appetite being observable: I descended with a tremour, but met Mr. Badams with a smile; he smiled again, and I was reassured, and I could see that he was very quiet and satisfied like." My nieces had become so deeply interested in Auntie's story that they would not give me a moment for rest, so gathering up my courage I went on with my old romance in the dim light of that rainy afternoon. "The first time I saw John alone after that he told me that my father had consented to our union, provided he was satisfied on several little points, but he wished us to wait awhile. I had trembled with fright before, now I trembled with joy, I did not see the cloud here, and my happiness forced out the dark fear from the little corner of my heart, and marched up and down therein to the tune of my love-my love for John Badams, which was becoming every day more intense. Then, as I was going to be his wife, I did quite right to fan well the flame-the flame that wanted no fanning, for it burned up brightly enough. "I spent a happy month, two happy months, I think it must have been, for it was summer. I recollect how the sun shone on my misery, not caring a bit for it, and how I felt the sun could shine coldly as well as hotly, for surely there were never brighter sunbeams than those that glanced and danced in the diningroom yonder, when I stood there to hear my fate, yet I shivered and my teeth chattered while standing in their beams. I was summoned by Hannah, who told me that my father wanted me in the "At last they had a talk, and how my heart beat, such thumps surely, as I looked out of my chamber window one day before dinner, and saw my father and Mr. Badams pacing up and down that long straight gravel path in our old garden, and knew they were talking about me. My father shook his head several times, I could see that, though I was too high above the garden to read the expression of their faces. But what could that portend? Do people shake their heads only negatively? I asked. And what possible objection could my father have? True, I should leave him alone, but would not that be better than that I should one day be left alone my-dining-room, and that Mr. Badams was self? I thought every parent would say yes to that, every loving parent, at least, and mine did not want for affection towards me, only it was not of the demonstrative sort. there. This was gratuitous information on Hannah's part, and did not reassure my starting fears. I went, my father looked blackly at me, Mr. Badams did not look at me at all. I felt small and miserable, as a woman does when she stands before two angry men on whom she has not the power to pour her anger in return. "You must give up your engagement with this-this scoundrel, once, and for ever,' said my father. I could not utter a word, but I looked at John-no doubt with a face of miserable earnestness. He did not turn and he did not speak. "Do you hear me?' resumed my father. I shivered, my hands trembled, and the garish sun shone upon the wall and sent the rainbow hues from the glass chandeliers bobbing up and down as if they were spiteful sprites exulting in my misery. How I watched them! just the trifle to catch one in one's agony, as trifles do catch us by some strange power in our natures at those terrible times; yes, I watched and noticed shadows when the substance of happiness was being riven from my grasp! I had not even stretched out my feeble hand to retain it. I would do so, I would not be passive under this blow, so I asked loudly"Why, father?' 666 He-he whom we've known as Mr. Badams, a merchant returned from abroad,' answered my father, speaking rapidly and angrily, is no other than a man who has been transported, and comes back here with money gotten, since his time in the penal colony expired, in South America; he's no other than Jack Adams who was born in the alley.' "Jack Adams! why I had heard of him as a girl, a clever mischievous boy, who had disappeared from the town for some years, and whose poor but honest parents had ever been pitied for having such a scrapegrace son. Yes, Jack Adams, had been transported. "I had not a word to utter-nor had he. We had neither sense enough; nor, perhaps, love enough, left to plead all that might have been pleaded in our favour. For Jack Adams had expired long since, and John Badams had for eight years redeemed his character by industry, honesty, and good conduct; had raised himself, moreover, out of the ranks in which he was born by his application and love of knowledge. Useless, however-as I am to this day convinced would have been any arguments with my father, he never would have given his daughter to a man returned from transportation. "There then he stood, inexorable, and there stood John Badams, daunted and ashamed. I went up to him, shivering all over, we shook hands once and parted in silent agony, he never even looked at me. "After that I had two offers, within that same year, one from the curate, one which surprised me much-from Major Startling; but I was too bewildered and sore-hearted even to consider their suits, so they had a speedy and decisive negative. My father would have liked the latter match, and even ventured on some persuasions, but I had no ears to hear them with, for love had died within me. "I never suffered any one after to call me Rosalie, it was the name John had known me by, and with his memory it too should die, so I am now only Aunt Judith-and that's the reason, girls, why I didn't marry." A few tears coursed softly down the old lady's face as she finished the romance of her early days. Her nieces quietly stared into the fire and said nothinglet us do the same-'tis a history that needs no after words. VANS. PARENTS AND CHILDREN. THE relationship between parent and child is one that appears to have been ordained by Providence to bring the better feelings of mankind and many domestic virtues into active exercise. The implicit confidence with which children, when properly treated, look up to their elders for guidance, is not less beautiful than endearing; and no parents can set about the work of guiding aright, in real earnest, without deriving as much good as they impart. The feelings with which this labour of love would be carried forward is, as the poet writes of mercy twice blessed— "It blesses him that gives and him that takes." And yet in daily life and experience how seldom do we find these views realised! |