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The women wear a sarong, or petticoat, over which is a eldest afterwards convey to and bury at the foot of some rest, ornamented with bits of coloured glass and adornings. distant mountains, charging the spirit of the departed not to They have also necklaces, and surround their heads with a return to molest his family, as all his earthly possess ions cotton cloth, whose two ends fall over their shoulders. Their have been interred with him. ears are elongated by the suspension, from a large bored The account given by Mr. Judson of the Karoens is, in hole, of flowers, precious stones, and gold and silver orna- some respects less favourable than that of Bishop Pallegois.

Their early history seems quite a matter of conjecture; but Their huts are made of bamboos, and are ascended by a they are supposed to emanate from the aboriginal inhabitants vide ladder ; bamboos, calabashes, baskets, and a few coarse of the regions in which they dwell. Mr. Judson calls them mats, form the whole of their furniture. These habitations meek, peaceful, simple, and credulous, with many of the are only built for temporary use; the people migrate year softer virtues, and few flagrant vices. They are drunken, after year from one spot to another, burning and clearing filthy, and indolent; but their morals, in other respects, are away a space for the cultivation of the rice they consume. superior to those of many more civilised races. In their They have no books or written laws, their legislation being traditions, truths and absurdities are mingled. They have traditional.

tolerably definite ideas of a great Being, who governs the Their chiefs are elected, not hereditary, and exercise a universe, and many of their traditiovary precepts bear & paternal and protective influence.

striking resemblance to those of the Gospel. The Kareens are believed to have a common ancestry Not being Buddhists, they have been persecuted by Bud. with the Laos, whom they much resemble. They recoguise dhists, and this had, undoubtedly, disposed them more wil. a good and an evil spirit; the good genius being well dis- lingly to receive Chistian instruction. posed, they do not deem it necessary to conciliate him; One of the earliest Protestant missionaries to Burmah was hence all their sacrifices are offered to the maleficent genius. struck with groups of strange wild-looking men, clad in un. They have no priests or pagodas, no assemblages for worship shapely garments, who now and then passed his abode. He or religious displays. They address their supplications to heard they were a numerous race, who kept aloof from other the evil spirit when they have any favour to ask, or evil to men, and were as uptameable as the mountain birds. He avert. This absence of religious forms and prejudices in redeemed one of them from slavery, and converted him. favour of any particular system, has made the Kareens Throngh him his fellows were reached. They had no strong willing converts to Christianity, and the Protestant mission. prejudices, professed no religion ; their traditions led them aries have had considerable success among them.

to expect instruction from the west while-faced teachers, They possess many excellent moral qualities ; they are who were to give them knowledge of God. The inissionaries sober, trustworthy, and truthful. Polygamy is unknown brought civilisation with Christianity --at all events, its among them. Hospitality is so aniversal that it is claimed rudiments; reading and writing were introduced, and the without hesitation, and granted without stint. A visitor is Kareens found to their amazement, that the meaning of a always welcome to food and shelter, and they distribute spoken word could be conveyed by a written sign. willingiy among one another whatever they possess in super.

The two volumes devoted to Siam are extremely Anity.

They are wholly uneducated. Fishing, hunting, and the interesting, for we expect from the attainments simple coltivation of rice and vegetables, are their sole em and characters of the monarchs, that great changes ployrents. A candidate for the hand of a virgin must will occur rapidly in that land to which the visit escalade her cabin, and is expected to overthrow a strong the author and the originator of the treatyman placed for her defence. They burn their dead, but rescne from the ashes a portion illustrations that supply, we believe, an accurate

will decidedly tend. The volumes abound in of the skull, which they suspend from a tree, with the clothes, ornamen:s, and arms of the deceased. They dance, idea of the buildings or costumes which they represinging lugabrious songs, around these relics, which the sent.

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Ballads by Bon Gaultier's Grandsons


I mean to punish perjured Pam for past official sins ;

I mean that all the “Ins” be “Outs,” and all the “ Outs" HURRAH FOR GOVERNOR YEH!


And I must cull my choicest lowers of rhetoric, they say

And speak of murdered Chipamen, and that dove-like Go. BY THE RIGHT Hon. B. D'ISR-E-I,

vernor Yeh ! PART I.

Up with the Earl of Derby and down with " W. B.!” Ir you're waking, call me early, call me early, wifie dear, Up with the quartern loaf, my friends, and-D'Israeli, M.P. For tomorrow will be the busiest day of all the Commons' oh! bless those Chinese mandarius-Jear anti-British souls, fear;

Who bid so high for British heads, and poison penny rolls ! For Cobden brave hath sworn that he will floor poor Pam

As I came through the lobby, whom think you I did see And I'm to be spokesman of Yeh, my dear, the gentle

Bat Hayter holding the button-hole of some stiff-necked

M.P.? Governor Yeh!

He thought of that sharp speech, my dear, they fear so much, There's many a Belial in the House, but none so keen as I, men say, To explain the thing which is not—and that which is when I'm to bully the Government for injured Governor deny;

that day,

Yeh ! Oh! none can speak like little Diz, the people all do say ; They say Pam will to the country go-and what if so it be? So I'm to spout against Palmerston, for injured Governor What if his heart approved his acts--pray, what is that to


me P



When Derby woos me to Downing.street, I care not what

I say! So, down with the Union Jack, my dear, and up with Go

vernor Yeh !

And Billy Gladstone will be there, and Dicky Cobden too;
I, Protection's incarnation --he, Free Trade's apostle true!
And the Carlton club will pack the House to cheer all I can

say, Till the Speaker weeps o'er the cruel wrongs of gentle

Governor Yeh!

The newsmen in the street below, as, roaring by, they pass, Think not of that which will be, but only that which was ; And soon I think the knares will shout the whole of the

live-long day“ The Coalition turned Pam ont-hurrah for Governor


I sleep so sound at night, my dear,-of office then I dream; Bat be sure to call me arly, for I wish to point my theme; And I've got the cue to oust the "Ins,” the Coalition say; And the knife to open the oyster now of course is - Governor Yeh!

W. B. B. S.



BY ALPRED TENNISBALL. (N.B.-No connexion with “I Waited for the Train at

Coventry,” &c.)
I waited for the boat at Hungerford ;
I hung with snobs and swells upon the bridge,
To sootch the muddy water; there I shaped
The City's ancient legend into this :

Then this poor boy xround slow liis mournful way
Towards Highgate's bill — and up the sleep ascent
Toiled wearily-yet deem not him alone,
For at his heels there walked a faith'ul friend,
A gentle quadruped - a fond Grimalkin
Who purred between her master's weary legs,
Till he looked down and saw her at his feet,
And wept at such four.footed sympatlıy.
So with their honest backs to London town
These twain toiled valiantly up llighgate hill.
They sat thein down at last--for Whittington
Was very hungry-aud on bread and cheese
In equitable portions dined they then.
But up he starts--and lo! what is't he hears
Clanged with great shock of sound from distant bells
Of Bow in Cheapside ? Say they rightly thus ?
“Return! retorn! great Whittington return !
Thou shalt of London's City be Lord Mayor !"
Such were the words-or hope was much mistaken -
Such were the words. Backward again they hied,
He and his cat, the solace of his sorrows,
As partner of his joys—but, if she thought
That such a Co. could long exist, methinks
The poor Grimalkin then was slightly “sold."
But I am speaking rather in the tense
Hight Paulo post futurum. To my theme:
Backward he hied-re-entered London town,
Obtained employment as a quill.driver,
A very drudge for three long bitter years ;
But still the cat sat 'neath his stool by day
And slept upon his truckle-bed at night.
Now Whittington's employer was a merchant,
Who sent forth ships to trade beyond the seas
One of his captains saw-admired the cat,
And with her sailed to China, land of dirt,
Rice, lorchas, pigtails, ivory deftly carved,
And ladies with short toes bent backward. Soon
Made he acquaintance with the Emperor,
The brother of the Sun and Moon, celestial “ swell,"
First cousin to the Stars ; for in those days
Men craved not iutroduction - Bowring then
Had not been sent out as Ambassador,
Nor Seymour to bombard their tin pot towns.
Now it so happened that this Emperor's
Imperial snuggery was over-run
With mice who stole the delicate tit-bits
From off the table of the Stars' first cousin,
And cats till then in China were unknowo,
And Whittington's Grimalkin had three kittens,
And so the Brother of the Sun and Moon
Purchased the cat of Whittington for sum
Which would content me for my lease of life
Invested snugly in the Three-per-Cents.
The Captain homeward sailed to England's shore,
And paid this sum to Whittington-so he
Became a sucking Cræsus-bought and sold,
And " rigged the market" like our" bulls" and " bears,"
Became a man whose name across a bill
Drew ready cash-then Sheriff - then Lord Mayor,
And built himself an everlasting name :
And of his acts if more ye wish to learn,
Are they not written in the picture books
Of Messrs. Darton upon Holborn bill?
As for his cat — I've little more to tell,
Save that she lived and multiplied her species
For the great Brother of the Sun and Moon ;
And her descendants, worthy of their dam,
E'en now are mewing loud in great Cantoo,
Unless that stout Drawcansir, Chinese Yeh,
Hath poisoned the poor innocents because
Their ancestress was British !

C. o.

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Not only we of Eighteen Fifty.Seven,
Smart men that, swift as streak of lightning greased,
Make and spend “tin”- not only we that prate
of progress, learning, and “ Excelsior,"
Have loved ourselves full well and turned up trumps
At life's great game of whist-but surely he
“ Did more, and underwent, and overcame,"-
The wight of some few hundred summers back,
Whittington, 'preutice erst to some dull cit,
Some wheezy councilman--who worked him hard,
And gave him the allowance monkeys have,
More kicks than half.pence-and, when asked for more,
Showed him the street, and kicked him into
With turned up toe, saying, "Begone and starve !"
He souglit relief in vaiv, for in those days

"relieving officers" - his thoughts Turned to his childhood's home, far, far away, Embowered in tufted trees where cooed the dove, Where sang a chorus sweet of jenny.wrens, Tom-tits, and gay cock-sparrows-and he said, “ It must be so— farewel, ambitious dreams,". (“ Farewel,” he would have said, “ to all my greatness," But he had never genıle Shakespere read, Nor seen the play of England's bluff King Hal Performed at the Princess's). “So, farewell Clown was I born, and to clod-hopping life I must return"-and then he 'gan to snivel, And wipe his pose upon his jerkin's cuff ; (For his were days when Manchester was not, And dear were pocket handkerchiefs).

Were no



Broken inemories of many a heart
Woven into one.- Shelley.

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had gained the paternal consent, straightway pro. They say that angels walked upon our earth,

ceeding once more to London, to take lessons till And commune held with man when Time was young, the time should arrive when he would be qualified, Ere from the selfish hearts that vexed them daily, They flew to heaven from this vale of tears;

if nothing better offered, to teach others himself. But know, thou scoffer at dear wominkind,

Of course, his father hotly opposed the plan at first That there are wingless angels yet abiding In earthly homes-fair, gentle, loving women,

-but, being a man of easy temper, and having Such as was she, whom aye will I reinember, The angel of her home.

heard from several competent judges of his son's

great proficiency in drawing, &c., he allowed John In the year 18—, John Sydney, the only son of a Sydney to start for London, with a promise, to country clergyman, came up to London on a visit cheer him on his way, that whatever in reason was 10 bis uncle, an eminent merchant, who, having necessary to his advancement would be provided, Jest home some five-and-twenty years before, with on condition that, as far as he could, he kept out nothing better than a few guineas in his pocket mischief. and his father's blessing, had by this time suc. So now I have told you how John Sydney beceeded, Midas-like, in turning all he touched to came an artist. He soon found, however, somegold, by dint of lucky speculations, aided by his thing more is required to make an artist thau a own good judgment, and becoming senior partner superficial knowledge of colour, light and shade, in the now flourishing firm of Sydney, Simpkin, and elementary drawing; he found that nil sine and Co., Old Broad-street. Having thus disposed magno labore is the great lise-motto for all who of the rich and respected uncle, Mr. Samuel would achieve eminence, or even a competence, by Sydney, let me proceed in my own way to say a the work of their hands. But he was young and few words introductory of his scapegrace nephew, hopeful, and set to work to conquer art's early John. John Sydney had spent the greater part of difficulties by patience. his time abroad - having been educated at a con- Time wore away, and by degrees the young tinental school, and finished off at Heidelberg, artist's pictures began to be seen in conspicuous where he learned to smoke more Canaster than was corners of picture-dealers' windows, and quickly good for him, love schnaps, read, if not unto edifi. to fetch fair prices. Now began Sydney's trials ; cation, Kant's philosophy, and to be about as having thus far satisfied bis own conceit that he agreeable an idler as you would meet in a long was a genius—as, say what people may and do day's walk. But all these things, although say of the modesty of real talent, all clever men rendering him a very good companion over at some period of their lives do think-he became one's wine and walnuts, were in nowise fitted to idle and desultory, and, having fallen in with a produce favourable impressions on the mind of his clique after his own beart, men who were ever uncle, as to the business capabilities of the non- ready to acknowledge his merits, court bis society, chalant young man, who one day jumped out of a and—truth must be spoken-occasionally steal cab at No. -, Russell-Square, the residence of his designs, he soon ceased to care about art for its that most respectable of tallow-merchants, Samuel own sake, as an abstraction, and to regard it solely Sydney, Esq. It had occurred to our young in a concrete light as the mere means of paying Hopeful's father, Rev. Thomas Sydney, that his his rent and supplying his extravagances. About brother was the very man to further John's in. this time, he happened to meet at a conversazione a terests in life; for it happened that this well. Miss Bell, with whom he fell in love, and whom meaning parent had altogether mistaken the bias he married a few weeks after, with that impetuosity of his son's mind, which by no means tended which followed him through life. Of her I can towards Mr. Samuel Sydney's desks and high say little, save that she was a pretty, amiable stools in Old Broad-street. From bis childhood little woman, devotedly attached to ber husband, John had a taste for drawing, which had been pro- as he to her, but with little else to recommend her nounced by his master to be so correct that he, to your notice—one in every way unsuited to be the wortby master, had little doubt but that, with the wife of a man like John Sydney. Moreover, proper attention, his pupil might become a Mrs. Sydney had not a shilling, and he had never great man, if he would only devote himself entirely thought of the necessity for retrenching his exto bis easel hereafter. Now it likewise happened penditure when he married; so, a few weeks after that John Sydney was of this opinion himself; so, Jane Bell became the wife of John Sydney, "for finding that his uncle could offer him nothing but better or for worse, for richer or poorer” (if those a clerk's seat in Old Broad-street, he resolved on alternatives had any real existence at that time,) at once going down home, acquainting his father the young artist and his bride found themselves with his intention of turning artist, and, when he located in a garret in Newrnan-street, which has


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been an artists' quarter from time immemorial. name to the good old English appellative "Mary," But Sydney, though idle and dissipated from evil Maclan was at a loss to conjecture. And now influences, was really better than all this. He Sydney had an additional stimulus to exertion, and saw that something must be done, that he must so worked manfully on, till he came in for his share give up bis loose bachelor acquaintances, work of the world's much-coveted, unduly appreciated, hard—in a word, paint or starve. So he painted | “monstrari digito et dicier, hic est.” He became, away with new vigour, and his industry was duly almost suddenly, a man of mark, whose pictures rewarded.

always commanded high prices, and was now on But prosperity is always more trying to men of the high road to fame, when little Marie had his temperament than adversity ; no sooner had he learned to walk alone, and lisp her father's name, made for bimself a small but safe connection among and a second child—another little fair-haired the picture-dealers and picture-buyers than he miuiature --more flattering likeness than the launched into fresh extravagances—took better first of her mother, was born, and named Emily. lodgings, gave bachelor parties once more, and And the painter's heart was glad, as on fine managed to spend rather more in one month than summer evenings, when his easel was thrown aside, he could make in three. Too proud to apply to he sat in bis little garden, with his two little ones his father for assistance, too desultory now to face at his feet, and his fair young wife at his side, bis difficulties like a man, and curtail his ruinous gazing out over London's miles of brick and expenditure, he soon experienced the manifold mortar in the cool twilight, blandly smoking bis mortifications of genteel poverty, and, in proportion cigar, and blessing old Sandy Maclan, who bad as he grew poorer, so did his wife become more taken him from his debt and duos and joyless delicate, and he more reckless.

extravagances, to set bim down with a better heart Now there happened to be “a cloud with a of hope and hand of earnest in his happy Hampsilver lining” hovering over the Sydneys' lodgings stead home. in Newman-street just then; or, in plainer English, there was, among his miscellaneous acquaintances, an old Scotch picture-dealer, by name Time wore away–Marie was now fifteen, and Sandy MacIan, who had now and then dropped in Emily three years younger, and their happy father to smoke a cigar with Sydney, and had then and was celebrating the birthday of his elder daughter there conceived a strong liking for the young with a small party of friends—brother-artists and painter, and bis pretty, ailing, little wife.

men of letters ; and there, for the first time, he “Mrs. Sydney," Maclan would say, “puts me became acquaiuted with James Grey and John much in mind of my poor darling Jessie, who Savile, who had come with a mutual friend, for married a young artist, and died at the birth of the purpose of introduction to the eminent her first child in this very street." This remi. painter, Jolin Sydney, R.A. And to saye myself niscence was often advantageous to Sydney in the trouble hereafter, I may as well describe the more ways than one.

Old Sandy Maclan, as he two. Both were very young men, and as yet was called by half the young “ ne' wells” in unknown to the world, but both had given much Newman-street, was at bottom a kind-hearted man, promise of future distinction, and Sydney had -one who was often known to do the most always a kindly word of cheer or good counsel for generous things in the most crabbed way; to send such. Grey, who was the elder of the two, was anonymously a £10 note to some struggling then a barrister of a year's standing--a slight, young artist, while perhaps, at the very moment dark, haughty-looking, handsome young man, of its receipt, he was growling, like a caged bear, with coldly regular features, and quiet, gentlemanat bis protège's shortcomings. He volunteered to like manners; while Savile, a young author, whose lend Sydney a sum sufficient to relieve him from name as yet was known only to the literary world his difficulties, on the sole condition that the as appended to a few stray poems in divers periudiartist should work more and talk of work less; cals, was the reverse-a tall, German-looking, break off bis acqnaintance with the idle clique who irregular-seatured, broad-shouldered man, one had taken up bis time, and smoked his cigars to whom men called "cranky," and women an no purpose ; take a little cottage at Hampstead, oddity,”—now joyous as a lark, and now gloomy which belonged to MacIan, and then and there as Democritus himself; one who, at that time at begin a new life. Sydney gratefully accepted the least, wore his heart too much upon his sleeve, as old man's offer, and worked steadily at his easel | the phrase is, and so was constantly misinterpreted, till he was not only enabled to repay his friend, even in his best motives, and doomed to meet but had also in hand a sum sufficient for his daily scorn and coldness on all sides from the many who exigencies for some time to come. And here, deemed his impetuous frankness ill-timed, or gare properly speaking, my story should begin. him credit for carrying his heart in lis open hand,

At this time his first child, a girl-a fair, fragile and formed their estimate of that honest heart's little thing, with her mother's deep blue eyes and worth accordingly—and erroneously. flaxen hair, was born, and shortly after baptized, There was not more difference in feature than with MacIan as her godfather, “Marie,” though in mind between the two. Grey was one who what reason Sydney had for preferring a French / would at all times have chosen the smooth expe.

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dient before the rugged right; while Savile's high- eyes of the painter's daughter, who, in some guise toned honour would never allow his sense of truth or other, was sure to be brought forward on the canto be boodwinked for a moment by any idea of vas of his most popular pictures. Emily, too, sast mere self-interest. Men like Grey may often, by approaching womanhood, threatened to throw her imate force of character, make their way into our quiet little sister intotbeshade by her striking beauty respect; men like Savile seldom fail, in the long and showy accomplishments, which Marie had not; run, of securing our heart's love.

Savile was a

but Sydney, true to his artist-instinct, would often man at all times better than he seemed; Grey, a say to his friends with half-sigh, half-smile, that man who at all times seemed better than he was. Emily surpassed her sister in beauty of form and Have I shadowed forth the characters of these two feature, but was not to be compared to Marie, men aright? If anything be wanting, read on, whose heart beamed through her deep blue eyes, and let my narration fill up the blanks.

And well might her fond father's partiality find A few years passed away, and Sydncy's pictures excuse in truth; for during all her mother's ill were to be seen yearly in the best places at the ness Marie was ever the angel of his home. To exhibition; Grey had made some successful her now her father looked for everything; she met speeches in Westminster Hall, and won a reputa. him at the breakfast table with a cheerful face, tion and a great cause in a siugle day; while while Emily sat complaining in a corner, that she Savile was still unknown, writing on cheerfully in had sat up all night with her mother, and was worn his quiet lodgings in Islington, with nothing out with her vigil—forgetting that dear little Maelse to cheer him but a consciousness of dormant rie had spent her days and nights, with little iu. power, and one strong idea that he would yet do termission, for more than a week past, in ber truth's work in his generation.

mother's room—and yet no murmur ever escaped One day, a book appeared with John Savile's her lips. name on its title-page, and from that hour its In a drawing-room, reader, you would perhaps author's reputation was It rarely hap- have thought the quiet little girl, who sát silently pens that a man earns any lasting reputation by a in her arm-chair, with her head reclining on her first book; nevertheless, Savile was an exception to hand, while her sister Emily was winning the the rule. I remember that book well; I bad read hearts of all the young gentlemen in her vicinity, it through and through long ere I knew anything by her sprightly manner, silvery laugh, or exquisite of its gisted author. It was, after all

, nothing warblings, a very commonplace young lady-one more than a simple domestic story, with no re- you would rather not pick as a partner for the markable incidents therein ; but that same simple next polka-and you would in that sense have story won a place for its author in the hearts of been right, for the privacy of domestic life was the book-reading public of England. “It was so the only scene where Sydney's “child-angel," as

touchingly true," said they—they saw themselves he lovingly nicknamed his elder daughter, ap

. reflected in its pages, for good, for evil, real flesh peared in her true character. So Miss Emily and blood men, like Sydney, Grey, Savile himsell, Sydney flirted, danced, and sang away, and so desand the old picture-dealer ; as for its women, its troyed the peace of many eligible young men in author had been obliged for once to draw upon irreproachable white waistcoats and weatest of his imagination for ideals - he was left an orphan neckcloths, till her presence became almost a sine early, had no female relations that he knew of, and qui non to every party at any house to which the at that time went but little into female society. Sydneys had ever been invited, while Marie was Nevertheless, bis women pleased the public. voted slow and silent by half the simpering inaniHe drew his inspiration from truth, and Pa- ties of fashion. Grey had met the Misses Sydney ternoster-row, which had snubbed him in days out at sundry parties, and had made a similar obgone by, applauded his work to the echo now. servation ; nevertheless, he had always felt in

. And Grey read that book, and whenever he met clined to alter his opinion when he saw Miss Sydits author at Sydney's table, loved to draw him ney in her proper sphere---at home ; while Savile, out before his host's daughters, till they, poor silly who, as I bave said, at that time went little into little things, were of opinion that Grey was indeed female society, and had just arrived at that stage the wittiest and most agreeable man they had ever in the beart's bistory when something to love met, and poor John Savile a mere bookseller's begins to be a want, might truly say of himhack. And

so Grey despised Savile's pet self now, with St. Augustine in his beautiful theories, and glowing enunciations of lofty ab.“ Confessions” Nondum amabam, et amare stract truths, while Savile hated Grey's witty amabam, quærebam quid amarem, amans amare;" worldliness and barren heart of unbelief.

and accordingly fell in love with Marie Sydney. But that young lady unfortunately in her heart of

bearts dearly loved James Grey, to whom poor Marie had now grown up into a demure blue. Savile superficially presented an unfavourable coneged little maiden, with as sweet a face as poet trast, while the brilliant Emily, too, in spite of ever dreamed of, and her father had painted that numerous offers from men in a worldly point of sweet face over and over again, but still the world view far more eligible than the young barrister, was not yet tired of the angel-smile and dove-like I loved Grey as deeply as women of her nature can



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