, all they have to
do, is to wait till the tide serves, and, loosing from their moorings,
float gently up towards the spot they wish to occupy. Bang-kok, the
modern capital of Siam, and the seat of the Siamese government, was
computed, at the period of my residence there, to consist of 70,000
floating houses or shops, and each shop, taking one with another, to
contain five individuals, including men, women, and children; making
the population amount to 350,000 souls, of which number 70,000 are
Chinese, 20,000 Burmese, 20,000 Arabs and Indians; the remainder, or
about 240,000, being Siamese. This was the best census we could take,
and I believe it to be nearly accurate. The situation is exceedingly
picturesque. I was told that, when the Siamese relinquished the
ancient capital of Yuthia, and first established the throne at
Bang-kok, the houses were built upon the banks of the river itself;
but the frequent recurrence of the cholera induced one of the kings to
insist upon the inhabitants living upon the water, on the supposition
that their dwellings would be more cleanly, and, consequently, the
inmates less subjected to the baneful effects of that scourge of the
East.--_Neale's Residence in Siam_.

THE TWO PRAYERS.

BY MARIE J. EWEN.

I.

It was the hour for evening prayer--there came a goodly throng
Within that dim cathedral church to join the vesper song;
And _she_ was there amid the crowd, and on the altar stair,
As if she were alone she knelt in the depth of her despair.

She did not heed the many eyes upon her beauty turned;
_One_ vision still oppressed her soul, _one_ grief within her burned.
The tones of holy minstrelsy, the solemn anthem strain,
They were like voices in a dream--as meaningless and vain.

Strange tumult reigned within her soul--there came a gush of tears,
Deep, wild, as if it bore along the passion-flood of years;
And 'Mary! Mary!' was her prayer, and 'Mary!' still she prays,
'O give me back the love of old--the light of other days!'

A deeper gloom o'erspread the aisles--the altar-lamp grew dim,
And fainter still the echoes came from the dying vesper hymn;
She listened for an answering voice--but no response was given:
The marble steps were cold as death, and silence was in heaven.

II.

Within that dim cathedral church once more she stood alone,
When from her cheek, and brow, and eye, youth's loveliness