The regent, Pra-Nai-Wai, is a sedate, dignified, courteous gentleman of sixty-five, who walks erect with firm step and manly form, and with mental and physical powers still unimpaired. His half-brother, who filled the post of minister of foreign affairs at the commencement of the present reign, died blind some little time back, after twice paying ten thousand dollars to a Dutch oculist from Batavia to operate on his eyes for cataract. His successor, the present minister, is one of the finest specimens of a Siamese gentleman in the country. He was first a provincial governor; then went on a special embassy to England; last year attended the supreme king on his visit to Singapore and Batavia; and recently accompanied him again to India, whence the royal party have but just returned. The regal convoy consisted of five or six war-steamers, and His Majesty, besides his own officers, was escorted also by the English consul at Bangkok, the harbor-master and several European officers in the Siamese service. The royal tourist visited Rangoon, Calcutta, Madras, Bombay, Allahabad and Ceylon; and entered with great gusto into the spirit of his travels, seeing everything, asking questions and taking notes as he passed from point to point. The regent, in conjunction with the second king, held the reins of government during the absence of the first king; and in truth the regent has for the most part governed the country since the death of the late king, in 1868, the young heir being then but fifteen years of age. The regent is decidedly a favorite with both kings and people, and his rule has been popular and prosperous.
MADISON AS A TEMPERANCE MAN.
Many years ago, when the temperance movement began in Virginia, ex-President Madison lent the weight of his influence to the cause. Case-bottles and decanters disappeared from the sideboard at Montpelier—wine was no longer dispensed to the many visitors at that hospitable mansion. Nor was this all. Harvest began, but the customary barrel of whisky was not purchased, and the song of the scythemen in the wheatfield languished. In lieu of whisky, there was a beverage most innocuous, unstimulating and unpalatable to the army of dusky laborers.
The following morning, Mr. Madison called in his head-man to make the usual inquiry, “Nelson, how comes on the crop?”