We have sent our ships of war from our coasts freighted with shot and powder, and destructive missiles, to kill our enemies and burn their towns and villages, and so carry desolation to thousands of hearts; but rarely or never before did one of England's proud vessels bear so precious a freightage. The mission of the lucky ship was changed. She was built to frown defiance and to pour streams of death by broadsides into the enemies of England: but on this errand she went forth with the olive branch and a pledge of the purest reciprocity, which we hope is duly appreciated by the two nations, who claim an interest in the person of him whom the two peoples delight to honour. May we be permitted to take this act of the British Government as a faint adumbration of the good time coming, when 'swords shall be beaten into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.' Many peaceful messages have been sent from the shores of England to those of the New World. The first that flashed along the fibres of the original Atlantic cable was sent by the Queen to the President of the Great Republic in the following language: 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men.' This was worthy the woman who adorns the English throne. She has lately sent another salutation. One of her finest ships was made into a funeral barge to convey the sacred relics of a common friend and benefactor to a quiet grave in the land of his birth. In the good will of Mr. George Peabody to the two countries, and in this august funeral voyage, we trust America and England discover a bond of union that shall draw the two nations together in firmer affection. Mr. ladstone said at the Mansion House lately, 'With the country of Mr. Peabody we are not likely to quarrel.' May the prediction be fulfilled."

On Saturday, December 11th, the remains were removed from their temporary resting place in Westminster Abbey, and taken by the South-Western Railway to Portsmouth, where they were put on board the iron-clad steam-ship,

Monarch, to be conveyed across the Atlantic. Preceded by two pall-bearers, the coffin in its protecting outer case was carried from the railway car along the enclosure and gangway to the deck of the great ship, and behind it walked six gentlemen who had travelled with the remains from London, the band of the Monarch playing the "Dead March." The body was placed on a bier, covered by a pavilion, on the ship's upper deck; but during the voyage it will rest in a mortuary chapel, which Messrs. Banting have designed and constructed for it. This imposing erection is of eircular form, with a cupola which, together with the walls and the floor, is covered with black cloth. From the centre of the dome white silk cords radiate, looping up, round the higher part of the structure, festoons of black drapery fringed with deep white lace. Round the sides, a intervals, the monogram of the deceased alternates with wreaths of immortelles and silver sconces for wax lights. The bier in the centre of the chapel, on which the coffin will be placed, has on either side four huge candlesticks, each three feet in height, and holding wax candles of proportionate size. As soon as the body had been placed under the pavilion already mentioned, Mr. Motley, the American Minister, addressed the captain of the Monarch in the following words, which were spoken with the most affecting earnestness :—

"Captain Commerell-The President of the United States having been informed of the death of the great philanthropist, the lamented Mr. Peabody, at once ordered a ship from the European squadron of the United States to proceed to this country, in order to convey his remains to America. Simultaneously, her Majesty the Queen, being apprised of the sad event, gave orders that one of her Majesty's ships should be appointed to perform the same office. This double honour from the respective heads of two great nations to a simple American citizen was, like his bounty to the poor of both nations, quite unprecedented. he President has yielded most cordially to the wish of the

Queen, and the remains of Mr. Peabody are now to be conveyed across the Atlantic in the British vessel to his native country to be buried with his kindred; while the American national vessel will accompany her as consort on the voyage. All that was mortal, therefore, of our lamented friend was taken this morning from Westminster Abbey-where very rarely before in history did a foreigner of any nation find sepulture, whether temporarily or permanently—and has been brought to this port. As minister of the Republic at the Court of her Majesty, I have been requested by the relative and executors of Mr. Peabody, who are now present, to confide these his revered remains to your keeping. This duty I have now the honour of fulfilling."

In reply, Captain Commerell said:

"Mr. Motley, I accept this sacred trust, sir, in the same spirit in which you have confided it to my care; and I assure you that these remains shall be cared for and guarded by me and those around me with jealous interest, as the sacred relics of one whose memory will ever be held dear by the people of my country."

Most of the mourners having left the vessel, the wide gangway leading from the jetty to the deck was withdrawn, and the Monarch steamed away from the dock for Spithead, where, the English ship was joined by the United States corvette Plymouth. The solemn silence of the crowd on the jetty, as the huge floating battery moved away, was impressive from the strangeness of such a fare well. It is usual to bid hearty adieux to a ship leaving home for a distant shore; and only on an occasion such as that of Saturday, which is exceedingly rare in the history of this or any other nation, could the striking, because silent, spectacle on the Portsmouth railway jetty have occurred.

The Plymouth, commissioned by the American Government to accompany the Monarch across the Atlantic, to Portland, is a wooden corvette, without armour. The Plymouth is said to be a remarkably fast sailor. She is wellrigged aloft, and spreads a much greater surface of sail than

an English corvette of the same tonnage would show. Her armament consists of six eight-inch medium Dahlgrens, mounted on the after deck on iron carriages very strongly and compactly put together; two guns of greater calibre before the mainmast; and three small boat and shell pieces.

Mr. George Peabody Russell went on board the Monarch to accompany the remains to America, which were removed from the covered platform to the chapel, on the ship's reaching Spithead. In consequence of the stormy weather, the Monarch was detained at Spithead, with the sacred deposit, above a week.

P. P.

THE CLOCK OF LIFE.

LITTLE Lewis Rollins lives at the large house on the hill, with the pillars before the door. He sometimes rides out on a pony, though he is a very little boy to be on horseback. Lewis is a nice little fellow.

Mr. Rollins one day went with his son to the old clock that stood in the hall, to teach him how to find out, at any time, the hour of the day or night. He explained to him that the broad hand marked the hour; the long finger the minutes, and the quick-moving, small, thin finger, the seconds.

Again and again, Mr. Rollins repeated his instructions to little Lewis, and was very patient and forbearing with him in the mistakes that he at first made in naming the time. At last little Lewis, to his great joy, was perfect in his lesson, so that he could tell what o'clock it was almost as well as his father.

"And now, Lewis," said Mr. Rollins, "that you have learned to know the hour by the clock in the hall, I must draw your attention to another clock-the clock of life. I mean the beating of your pulse; for it may often remind you of the value of time, and the necessity of turning it to good account. Time is worth more than the finest gold.

"My pulse is the clock of my life,
It shows how my moments are flying;
It marks the departure of time,

And it tells me how fast I am dying.'

"He who lives a day without doing good, loses a day; and he who makes another happy, is sure to be all the happier for it himself.

"I will show you how to lay your fingers on your pulse properly, and you must remember that every beat you have lived a moment longer in the world, and have a moment less to live in it. Truly may we all say, 'Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is, that I may know how frail I am. Behold, Thou has made my days as an handbreath; and mine age is as nothing before Thee,' Psalm xxxix. 4, 5."

Little Lewis felt that his father had made him much wiser than he was before; and, when he was left to himself, he did not fail to go over, again and again, the lesson which had been taught him. A dozen times in the course of that day was he seen running into the hall to look at the clock-face; and almost as many times was he heard to repeat the words, while his fingers were on his wrist,

"My pulse is the clock of my life,

It shows how my moments are flying;
It marks the departure of time,

And it tells me how fast I am dying."

ENIGMA XXVI.

The capital of Russia,

And that of Holland too,

A town where the Santa Casa *

(As monks say) stands to view;

A place upon the river Lud,

In Lincolnshire that's found,

And that where ancient Pharos stood,

Upon Egyptian ground.