of it, school-mates at home! As we stand erect, our heads point in opposite directions; but the heavens are above us all, and the earth is still beneath our feet.

6. The climate of this tropical island is said to be delightful, throughout the year. The society in which we found ourselves was, somewhat to our surprise, highly intelligent and agreeable; although, out of a population of a hundred thousand, mostly Chinese and Malays, there are only about a thousand Europeans. But we heard of one slight drawback to a country residence here, and that is, that tigers cross the strait from the mainland of Malacca to the island, and carry off, on an average, a Chinaman every day!

7. It has been a question with us, here at Singapore, whether we should start at once on our homeward voyage, by way of China and Japan, or visit the great Indian Archipelago south of us, and, especially, the Dutch island of Java. Prof. Howard tells us, that, in turning north from this point, we shall turn away from a beauty of which we had never dreamed,-from islands covered with palm-groves, and crowned with all the luxuriance of a tropical clime,-a world with an interest all its own, such as we have seen nothing of in our wanderings through the British Indies.

8. We were reminded that we had visited the Indies in the dry season, when vegetation withers, and the plains are desolate and dreary; but, should we now turn southward, we might be in Java, or in some other island of the Great Indian Archipelago, when the rainy season in that region would be just over, and tropical vegetation would be in all its glory.

9. But most of our party were now anxious, after our long journeyings, to lessen the distance between us and home; and so it was finally decided that we should here take the homeward route. We even voted against turning slightly aside to visit the capital of Siam, the

"Land of the White Elephant." We expect to leave here about the last of February; and when you next hear from us, it may be from Canton, or, perhaps, from a harbor of Japan.

CHAPTER XXXVI.-HOME SCENES AND INTERESTS.

I.-Ralph Duncan.

1. It need not be supposed that we have lost sight of our early acquaintance, Ralph Duncan. Not only in the city of Philadelphia, in which, taking his friend Phil Barto with him, as a law student, he opened an office soon after his admission to the bar, but in neighboring cities also, where his business has often called him, this young lawyer is fast acquiring a high reputation as an eloquent pleader and wise counsellor. While he gives much attention, in the United States' courts, to practice under the patent laws, he evidently prefers those cases in which he can defend the innocent and oppressed against wrong and injustice.

2. It is said by some of his fellow-members of the profession, as was said of the celebrated Irish lawyer and patriot, Thomas Addis Emmet,-that his well-known integrity of character, and his determination never to engage in a case in which he is not convinced that justice is on his side, have given him an undue advantage with courts and juries. If this be so, it is certainly a beautiful instance of the respect paid to virtue; and the right is not likely to suffer by this example of so-called "undue advantage.”

3. Ralph is as fond of reading as ever. Unlike most professional men, he does not entirely neglect the studies of his youth, and he makes a practice of indulging, from time to time, in some pleasant writing. This he regards as a profitable relaxation from the graver duties of his profession, for he finds that, while it occupies the mind, it also

serves to refresh and invigorate it. Occasionally a paper of his is read at one of the Saturday Evening Readings at the Hall. The scene of the following-which is another 66 moon story," after the manner of Hans Andersen-is laid in the vicinity of Niagara Falls, where Ralph has recently been spending a few days in viewing, for the first time, that great wonder of this Western World.

Another Moon Story.

1. Last night, said the moon, as I was sailing through the heavens over your continent, on my westward way from the Atlantic to the Pacific, I chanced to look down upon that grand scene, the Falls of Niagara. Along the margin of the broad river, just above the falls, on the Canada side, was a grove of oaks and beeches, fresh and fragrant, where, with every return of spring, a hundred birds mingle their songs with the deeper melody of the waters.

2. The road lies between this grove and the river. Carriages roll past, one after another, but I heed them not: my glance rests upon one spot in the thickest of the shadows, where a soldier fell, and where his body lies buried,one of the victims of the stern conflict at Lundy's Lane. The brambles that have grown up over the stones that mark the spot have long ago choked out the trailing vines that loving hands planted there. The place is full of the poetry of nature: but how do men read it? Diversely, according to their characters and education. Listen, and I will tell you what I saw and heard last evening.

3. First came two well-to-do farmers, jogging along in their lumber-wagon. Splendid trees those!" said one; "every tree would yield at least three cart-loads of firewood; and we shall have a hard winter. What is the use of these trees by the roadside? If they were mine, I should cut them down, and sell the wood in the village." So saying, they passed on.

4. "What a dreadful road!" said another man, driving past in his carriage. "This all comes from those useless trees, that are allowed to stand there by the roadside," said his companion. "They keep the ground wet and springy, and the road muddy. I would cut them down." And they drove on.

5. The stage-coach now came along; all the passengers were fast asleep, just in the loveliest part of their journey. They saw neither the grove on the one side, nor the tumbling, foaming waters, bathed in moonlight, on the other. The driver blew his horn; but he only thought to himself, "What a capital echo there is just here! But what do those sleepy folks inside care for it? They'll go right to sleep again." And the stage-coach was soon out of sight.

6. Then came two lads, galloping along on horseback, with all the fire and spirit of youth. They looked with a smile upon the green hills near by, and the dark thicket, and the rushing waters. "What a grand place this would be for a picnic!" said one. "I should like well enough to be walking here with pretty Christina, the miller's daughter, on such an evening as this," said the other; and off they rode.

7. Then another coach rolled past, in which were six persons. Four were asleep. The fifth, a young gallant from the city, was deep in thought-but about what? He was reflecting how his new summer coat would become him, and whether he should wear a buff vest and lavender gloves at the next party.

8. The sixth passenger popped his head out of the window, and asked the coachman if there was anything remarkable in the heap of stones by the roadside. Why, no," said the man; "'tis nothing but a heap of stones ;but the trees yonder-they are, indeed, worth looking at."

9. "How so?" asked the passenger: "tell me about them." "Well," said the coachman, "in the winter, when

the snow is so deep that it is hard to keep in the road, the trees are sign-posts to me, so that I am able to find my way, and keep from driving into the river. That is something, I think." And, so saying, he drove on.

10. Next came a man who said he was from down East. He was full of the Yankee spirit of enterprise, and knew equally well how to file a handsaw and to run a locomotive. He saw, in the grove, only a few forest-trees, such as he had seen thousands of before; and here they were occupying ground for nothing;-and why notice a heap of stones that would be of more use in a stone wall? But he did see the rushing, foaming water of the river, and this is what he thought of it.

11. "The biggest water-power in the world!" said he. "And what a pity that it is all wasted! Why, it could run a thousand saw-mills! What a place for woollen-mills, and cotton-mills, and factories of all kinds! And some day we shall use all this power; and the hum of a thousand million spindles will drown the roar of the cataract yonder; and here will be the grand centre of the manufacturing interests of a vast continent. Old England will then have to stand in the background." And he went away filled with thoughts of the future greatness and glory of the universal Yankee nation.

12. Next came a landscape-painter. His eyes sparkled; he spoke not a word, but only whistled to himself as he walked along. A whippoorwill was singing in the grove, just over the soldier's grave; and a little distance away his mate was answering back. Their notes added harmony to the scene. The artist noticed all the colors and tints in the landscape. "The greenish tint of the water in here," said he," the moonlight flashes out there-the hills beyond-and the blue, purple, and dark brown of the foreground-what a glorious picture this would make!"

13. His eye took it all in at a glance, and his mind received it just as a mirror does a picture; and he whistled