:

The Maid of Athens, of whose beauty Lord Byron wrote in such enthusiastic language, yet retained some of her charms, and Petro Bey and Grigiotes and Colocotroni, grizzled veterans and heroes, still walked the streets with a retinue of followers and splendid in their manly bearing and costume. The dress they wore, the national costume of Greece, can never altogether go out of use, for it is the most brilliant costume ever worn by any people. It consists of a large scarlet fez or soft cap, festooned with a massive blue silk tassel suspended by a cord of gold thread. The vest and jerkin are also of scarlet worked with gold thread and festooned with buttons of the same glittering material. The sleeves are slashed and hang from the shoulder, leaving the arm bare except as it is partially covered by flowing sleeves of a white stuff woven of linen and silk. A kilt of white cloth hangs to the knees in massive folds, and the waist is tightly swathed in a long girdle of richly striped and checkered silk. The leggins are of the same color as the vest, and ornamented in the same gorgeous manner, and the feet are encased in scarlet shoes. A broad scarlet leather belt sometimes is bound over the girdle and contains a brace of pistols and long-hilted, silver-and gold-mounted daggers. Very naturally, a handsome, symmetrically formed Greek, got up in this superb manner on fête days, is an object to win the admiration of the most unsentimental, and to carry consternation into the ranks of those who think plain black or gray are the only colors adapted to the wearing apparel of a man.

Many strange, wild stories of adventure and war, of romantic and hair breadth escapes, could these heroes of the Greek Revolution narrate, and they told their stories well, with flashing eyes and many expressive gestures. Among those who came to my father's house were Captain Tzavellas and his heroic little wife. They were Suliotes,— that is they came from Suli, a rugged, exceedingly mountainous province in the north of Greece. Marco Bozzaris, of whom Halleck sung in such stirring strophes, was one of the Suliote chieftains during the Revolu tion. Tzavellas and his wife acquired celebrity by their heroism at the third siege of Missolonghi, where he commanded part of the garrison. Missolonghi became famous for the three sieges it endured during that war. It lies on a low marshy plain, partly surrounded by the sea, although the water is so shallow that only boats can approach within four or five miles of it. During the first attack it was defended by Marco Bozzaris against overwhelming numbers, and the Turks were finally beaten back. Two years later it was again attacked, and it was during that siege that Lord Byron, who had come to the aid of the Greeks, was stricken with fever and died there. The third siege of Missolonghi was one of the most remarkable military events of our century.

The fortifications having been strengthened, a garrison of five thousand men were thrown into the place, when it became evi dent the Turks were going to besiege it again; besides the garrison was a population of several thousand. Noto, a brother of Marco Bozzaris, was commandant. In April, 1825, a large Turkish army and fleet under Reschid Pashâ invested Missolonghi, and they were reinforced before the close of the siege by twenty thousand Egyptians, led by Ibrahim, a man of great military ability, of whom this characteristically oriental story is told. His father, Mehemet Ali, governor of Egypt, was about to send out a military expedition, for the command of which there were many rival aspirants. At a loss how to settle the matter he hit on this device.

He ordered a carpet to be spread on the floor of the reception hall of the palace and an orange to be placed in the center of it, and declared that the one who could seize the orange without getting on the carpet should command the army. Now followed the most ludicrous scene. The rival pashas, men tall or short, fat or thin, sprawled each in turn on the floor, reaching after the orange; but they all failed, until Ibrahim's turn arrived. Taking the edge of the carpet in his hands he rolled it up until he was able to grasp the orange. It was a device as ingenious as the famous one of Columbus and the egg. Well, for over a year Reschid and Ibrahim Pashas besieged Missolonghi with every effort and stratagem which skill and force could suggest. Bloody assaults, fierce and stealthy night attacks, daring and desperate sorties, and mines and countermines, succeeded each other without any respite for long and weary months. Sometimes the Turks would suddenly swarm oyer the walls of the beleagured town, aad it would seem as if its fate had at last come. Sometimes the garrison would burst into the camp of the besiegers, and carry dire confusion and slaughter in their van. But the Turks were constantly gaining reinforcements, while the garrison and people of Missolonghi were slowly and surely wasting away before the hailstorm of balls and bombs, the exhausting and endless watching, and the lack of provisions. The supply of food in the city grew less and less; at length nothing was left to feed upon but rats and mice, and cats and dogs, and finally old shoes boiled down. Hollowed-eyed and wan-featured, the people walked like shadows among the houses that were crumbling under the enemy's fire, or laid down and died from sheer famine.

But even the rats and the leather at last gave out. After having so often refused to surrender, and after enduring such fearful hazards and hardships, it did not seem possible even now for the heroic garrison to surrender, especially as they were certain an indiscriminate slaughter would follow. They determined to cut their way through the enemy's lines or die in the attempt. Those who were too feeble were to remain. It was the fortune of war. At midnight the

remnant of the garrison sallied out from the gates, the women and children being in the center of this forlorn hope of despairing Greeks. Their furious aud sudden onset at first disconcerted the Turks, but they are surpassed by no people in courage, whatever else may be alleged against them, and they soon rallied and exerted every effort to destroy the sallying party. But the Greeks were nerved by despair. Tzavellas, the Suliote, was at the head of the sortie, and by his side walked his wife, a black-eyed heroine of small stature but dauntless heart; she carried her infant son on one arm and brandished a scimeter with the other. About two thousand Greeks, men and women, succeeded in cutting their way through and escaped to the mountains. Those who were left in Missolonghi crawled to a building. used as a powder magazine. Soon the Turks broke into the town and crowded around the magazine. Then the Greeks touched the match and the building blew up with a stupendous glare and thunder, hurling thousands, friend and foe alike, into eternity. One never wearied of hearing Tzavellas narrate the thrilling episodes of that siege, while his brave little wife stood by and confirmed his story.

Another veteran who came to our house sometimes to talk over his adventures in the Revolution, was Captain Hadji Stathé. One of his stories deserves to rank in strangeness with the famous account of Baron Trenck and his mouse. He was captured by the Turks, and expected nothing less than a cruel death. But he was thrown into prison instead-a damp, dark, noisome dungeon, underground, unlit except for two or three hours in the day, when a few dismal gleams of gray light appeared through a small hole in the top, where they let down a basket with his scanty rations of bread and water and sometimes a few olives. Scorpions, spiders and centipedes inhabited the crevices of this cheerful abode, where he had nothing to lie upon but a little straw. Hadji Stathé had been there several weeks in this dark solitude, without even a companion to share his misery, when one day he felt something crawl over his leg and gradually creep up towards his face. He kept perfectly still,

the true thing to do in such circumstances; but he judged from the feeling that it was a snake, and so it proved as it got up to his bosom. But whether it was an asp or any other sort of venomous serpent he could not tell.

The creature did not seem to be inclined to harm him, but rather sought warmth and repose. He allowed it to nestle in his bosom, and there it lay perfectly quiet, and he, it need hardly be said, also kept very quiet. After a while the snake uncoiled itself and left him. The next day it came again, and so day after day the hideous but seemingly harmless reptile returned, until, overcoming his aversion, and longing for some sort of compansionship, Hadji Stathé actually got

into the habit of watching and waiting for this strange bed-fellow with a sort of interest that familiarity divested of fear. The snake allowed him to stroke it, and never in any way showed an inclination to harm him. The regularity of its return at about the same hour every day showed a sort of instinct for calculating time. But one day the Greeks drove the Turks out of the town where Hadji Stathé was imprisoned, and he was at last released after several months of vile imprisonment and worn almost to a skeleton. He left the dungeon without hesitation and without so much as taking leave of the snake, which probably missed him and wasted a little selfish regret at his departure. S. G. W. Benjamin.

TRAMPS AND DRUNKARDS.

THE common saying that it makes but little difference what a man believes so long as he be haves himself is true, within certain limits; but the maxim is not capable of a wide application. It is often the case that one does not know how to behave himself until he knows what he believes. If you are searching for something that s lost you must have some belief respecting the probable place of its concealment, in order that your search for it may be intelligent. In a thousand matters conduct depends directly upon belief; the man does what he does simply because he believes what he believes.

The management by the state of convicts and criminals would be more successful if the state had a well-considered and consistent theory of its relation to these classes. In this matter we are all at sea. It is a point at which social science encounters theology; and a man's theories respecting the proper treatment of criminals is likely to be greatly influenced by his theological opinions. One theology insists that punishment is for the vindication of law; another, that it is for the protection of society; another, that it is for the reformation of the offender. All these types of theology try to express themselves in our penal laws and institutions; and the result is a system of confused aims and cross-purposes. If we could only agree upon some theory of punishment we should soon be able to improve the condition of our prisons.

That question will not be settled in this article. But we desire to call attention to two classes of persons who constitute much the largest share of the inmates of our county jails and local prisons. These are the drunkards and the tramps. Habitual drunkenness and vagrancy are the charges on which a large majority of the prisoners in our jails are confined. For these offences the term of imprisonment is commonly short, and it is a question whether any of the objects contended for by the various theories of punishment is at tained in the cases of these persons. Neither the vindication of the law, the protection of society, nor the reformation of the the offenders themselves is secured by the present method of dealing with them. The short term in the county jail is just long enough to disgrace a man, and not long enough to amount to much either in the way of restraint or of improvement.

It would seem that both these classes of per

sons could be more successfully managed in work-houses, where they should be confined for long terms and employed in some kind of selfsupporting labor. These work-houses would not need to be so strongly built as the prisons are; and they should be connected with farms, upon which the convicts might raise their own supplies. The contract system should not be allowed; but the labor of the inmates should be organized and directed by the superintendent of the work-house. The fare of these work-houses should be coarse and plain like that of the prisons; and the discipline, though firm, should be steadily directed toward the cultivation of self-respect and the moral virtues.

The advantages of this system are easily stated. 1. It would lighten the public burdens. The drunkard and the tramp are both a charge upon society. The drunkard sometimes earns a portion of his livelihood; but most persons of this class who have sunk so low as to be imprisoned are virtually paupers. Upon the labor of their relatives or the benevolence of the public they live for the greater portion of the time that they are out of jail. The tramp is wholly a charge upon the community. That portion of his living which he does not beg he steals. And this is not because he cannot find employment, but because he will not work.

If the drunkard and the tramp are sent to jail for thirty or sixty days they still remain a charge upon the community. They cannot be trained in so short a time to any productive labor. Even in those county prisons where the inmates are compelled to labor, the shortness of the average term of confinement renders the labor valueless. From three to five cents a day is all that contractors have been willing to pay for the labor of the prisoners in the Springfield House of Correction. If it were worth more it would bring more in the market. And if the average term of imprisonment were six months or a year it would be easy to dispose of the labor for five or six times as much money. A work-house in which the average term of confinement was six months or a year might, if properly managed, be selfsupporting. Thus the tramps and drunkards who are now living off the labor of others would be compelled to earn their own living.

The trades-unions do indeed object to convictlabor; but it is better for the whole community that a man should be compelled to work for his living in confinement than that he should be

allowed to beg it or steal it. The state ought to sell the products of the work-house labor for what it will bring in the open market; it must not undersell the market, for the problem is to make the institution self-supporting. The workingclasses would be benefited by a system that made the idle and criminal classes earn their own living. Otherwise they are a tax upon the whole community, and the working classes are obliged to pay their full share of this tax.

2. Another advantage of such a system would be the better opportunity afforded by it of improving the moral condition of the persons confined. The drunkard would be compelled to keep sober for many months; by that time his appetite would be under control; and if the moral influences surrounding him in the work-house had been salutary, he might be permanently reformed. A thirty days' imprisonment does him no good; six months or a year of enforced abstinence would give him a chance to master his appetite. The tramp would learn some useful employment, and although labor might not be robbed of all its horrors in his eyes, yet he would become better prepared, if not more willing, to take care of himself in the future.

3. Upon both these classes the deterrent effect of such a system would be much more powerful than that of the present system of short and frequent sentences to the county jail.

It may be that this method would apply to other classes besides the drunkards and the tramps; but to them it would seem to have a special adaptation. Long terms of confinement at hard labor under firm and kindly discipline is the best regimen for both these classes; and under such a system the burden of their support could be greatly lessened if it were not removed altogether.

FAITH AS A FINANCIER.

If the pilgrimage to America of the Rev. George Mueller should have the effect to increase the number of those weak-headed people who are disposed to rely upon faith rather than upon work for their daily bread, there will be good reason for wishing that the Rev. George Mueller had staid at home. The "faith principle" on which he professes to conduct his great charitable operations, may be applied in a limited way to enterprises that are strictly charitable; but even in these, there is no necessity of resorting to any miraculous explanations of success. Mr. Mueller has done a good work, and has carefully and shrewdly advertised it. His announcement that he does not solicit funds for the prosecution of his work, is in itself the most effective method of solicitation. People who do not like "begging sermons nor begging circulars bite readily at All the facts respecting the extent

that bait.

and character of his work he takes pains to keep before the public; and these reports are always accompanied with the information that nobody is ever asked to contribute. What nobody is asked to do, everybody, it would seem, must be doing; for the necessary funds are all the while coming in. What everybody does, everybody else wants to do. The popular dislike of the charitable drummer gave Mr. Mueller a splendid start; and, once started, his enterprise goes by its own momentum. Nothing succeeds like success. To him that hath shall be given.

Of course this would not be the case if Mr. Mueller's work were not well organized and admirably carried on; but since it is a good work, and since its character and method are well known to the public, its financial success may easily enough be explained without the supernatural hypothesis. That the Lord is helping this work there can be no doubt; He is helping every good work; but the help which He dispenses comes in along the lines of natural law, and not by the channels of supernatural intervention.

How far this method of Mr. Mueller's may be carried in charitable work, we cannot say. The probability is, however, that, if all charitable associations resorted to it, they would all come to grief together. The success of the very few that are managed on this principle is largely due to the fact that they are conspicuous exceptions to a general rule. Mr. Mueller himself does not advise other benevolent enterprises to rely upon his method, and in declining to give this advice Mr. Mueller shows that he possesses great practical wisdom.

But whatever may be said of the working of this principle in the business of charity, the attempt to introduce it into any enterprise where gain or livelihood is at stake is an abuse. Here is a call-the last of several that have been heard from the same quarter-for donations to sustain an impecunious newspaper in New York whose proprietor says: "I have tried to conduct the Witness enterprise on the faith principle of Rev. Geo. Mueller and Dr. Cullis; but, perhaps, owing to weak faith, or to mixing the credit principle with it, my experience has not been like theirs." The result of this experiment is a subscription list numbering 83,000 and a debt of $225,000. And still this devout enterprise goes on devouring money, and still the hat goes round among devoted subscribers to make up the annual deficit.

We do not question the good intentions of the proprietor of the Witness, and we are sorry for his serious misfortunes as well as for the losses of those benevolent persons who have aided him with their credit; but the failure of his enterprise will not be wholly a matter of regret if it shall indicate the folly of trying to conduct business on the "faith principle." Business must be conducted on business principles; the economi