in clothing the streets with shadow.  Several citizens, as Mr. Richard Wright and Mr. Thomas C. Hand, whose handsome cottages are tasteful specimens of our seaside architecture, have been tempted by this facility of vegetable life at Atlantic City to lay out elaborate gardens, which with suitable culture are successful.  Fine avenues of the best construction lead off to Shell Beach or to the single hill boasted by the locality.  Finally, remembering the claims of the great democracy to a wash-basin, the aediles invited Tom, Dick and Harry, and set up the Excursion or Sea-View House, with its broad piazzas, its numberless facilities for amusement, and its enormous dining-hall, which can be changed on occasion into a Jardin Mabille, with flowers and fountains.

To a great city all the renovating and exhilarating qualities of sea-breezes and sea-bathing are but as the waters of Tantalus, unless the place which offers these advantages be easy of access.  In this respect Atlantic City has for Philadelphia a superiority over all its rivals.  The Camden and Atlantic Railroad, to whose secretary and treasurer, Mr. D.M.  Zimmermann, we are indebted for much information, has simply drawn a straight line to the coast, which may be reached in an hour and three-quarters from Vine street wharf.  The villages on the route, like the seaside terminus, owe their existence to the road, which is now reaping the reward of a far-sighted enterprise.

THE ROUMI IN KABYLIA.

CONCLUDING PAPER.

[Illustration:  Abd-el-Kader in Kabylia.]

A noble life, whose course belongs to the subject of these pages, is, while they are preparing, apparently drawing to a close.  The severe illness now reported of Abd-el-Kader, coming upon old age, disappointment, war and the lassitude of a great purpose foiled, can have but one result.  Dimmed to-day, as our hurrying century so rapidly dims her brightest renowns, Abd-el-Kader’s existence has only to cease and his memory will assume the sacred splendor of the tomb.

Hapless Washington of a betrayed revolution!  In these latter days of enforced quiet in Palestine how his early scenes of African experience must have flooded his mind!—­his birth, sixty-six years ago, in a family group of Moslem saints; the teachings of his beautiful mother Leila and of his marabout father; his pilgrimage when eight years old to Mecca, and his education in Italy; his visions among the tombs, and the crown of magic light which was seen on his brows when he began to taste the enchanted apple; then, with adolescence, the burning sense of infidel tyranny that made his home at Mascara seem only a cage, barred upon him by the unclean Franks; and soon, while still a youth, his amazing election as emir of Mascara and sultan of Oran, at a moment when the prophet-chief had just four oukias (half-dimes) tied into the corner of his bornouse!