most expert conveyances.  Its other employments are many, and equally meritorious, and doubtless society would find a vacuum in its loss.  Yet we cordially wish that the Maberley brain were set at work upon this subject, and some substitute contrived.  The French have led the way, and that too by the most obvious and simple arrangement possible.  The “Omnibus,”—­for they still have Latin enough in France for the name of this travelling collection of all sorts of human beings—­the Omnibus is a long coach, carrying fifteen or eighteen people, all inside.  For two-pence halfpenny it carries the individual the length of the Boulevard, or the whole diameter of Paris.  Of those carriages there were about half-a-dozen some months ago, and they have been augmented since; their profits were said to have repaid the outlay within the first year:  the proprietors, among whom is Lafitte, the banker, are making a large revenue out of Parisian sous, and speculation is still alive.—­Monthly Mag.

* * * * *

FRANKLIN’S GRAVE.

Captain Basil Hall, in his Travels in North America, just published, says, “On the 12th of December, we made a pilgrimage to the tomb of Franklin—­dear old Franklin!  It consists of a large marble slab, laid flat on the ground, with nothing carved upon it but these words:—­

  BENJAMIN AND DEBORAH
  FRANKLIN.
  1790.

Franklin, it will be recollected, wrote a humorous epitaph for himself; but his good taste and good sense showed him how unsuitable to his living character it would have been to jest in such a place.  After all, his literary works, scientific fame, and his undoubted patriotism, form his best epitaph.  Still, it may be thought, he might have been distinguished in his own land by a more honourable resting-place than the obscure corner of an obscure burying-ground, where his bones lie indiscriminately along with those of ordinary mortals; and his tomb, already wellnigh hid in the rubbish, may soon be altogether lost.  One little circumstance, however, about this spot is very striking.  No regular path has been made to the grave, which lies considerably out of the road; but the frequent tread of visiters having pressed down the rank grass which grows in such places, the way to the tombstone is readily found without any guide.”

* * * * *

AN INDIAN SULTANA IN PARIS.

It is known to very few even in France that an Indian Sultana, a descendant of Tamerlane, named Aline of Eldir, has been living in Paris, poor and forgotten, for above forty years.  This heiress to a great kingdom was stolen almost out of her cradle, and deserted by the robbers on the coast of France.  She was presented to the princesses of the old court, and conceived a particular attachment for the Princess de Lamballe; but when, at the age of only nine or