man, being made a major-general at the beginning of the war. It has always seemed to me that the critics of McClellan do not consider this vast and cruel responsibility-the war, a new thing to all of us, the army new, everything to do from the outset, with a restless people and Congress. McClellan was a young man when this devolved upon him, and if he did not succeed, it was because the conditions of success were so trying. If McClellan had gone into the war as Sherman, Thomas, or Meade, had fought his way along and up, I have no reason to suppose that he would not have won as high a distinction. as any of us. McClellan's main blunder was in allowing himself political sympathies, and in permitting himself to become the critic of the President, and in time his rival. This is shown in his letter to Mr. Lincoln on his return to Harrison's Landing, when he sat down and wrote out a policy for the government. He was forced into this by his associations, and that led to his nomination for the Presidency. I remember how disappointed I was about this letter, and also in his failure to destroy Lee at Antietam. His friends say that he failed because of the interference from Washington. I am afraid the interference from Washington was not from Mr. Lincoln so much as from the enemies of the administration, who believed they could carry their point through the army of the Potomac. My own experience with Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Stanton, both in the western and eastern armies, was the reverse. I was never

interfered with. I had the fullest support of the President and Secretary of War. No general could want better backing, for the President was a man of great wisdom and moderation, the Secretary a man of enormous character and will. Very often when Lincoln would want to say Yes, his Secretary would make him say No; and more frequently when the Secretary was driving on in a violent course, the President would check him. United, Lincoln and Stanton made about as perfect a combination as I believe could, by any possibility, govern a great nation in time of war.”

HE principal topic of discussion during our leisure hours at Singapore was whether or not we should visit Siam. It was out of the regular route to China,

and the means of communication with Singapore were irregular, and none of us, I am afraid, took any special interest in Siam, our ostensible knowledge of the country being confined to school-day recollections of the once famous Siamese twins. Moreover and this fact I cannot as a conscientious historian suppress-there was a feeling of homesickness among some of the members of the party which found relief in studying the map and drawing the shortest lines between Singapore and San Francisco and Philadelphia. Any suggestion of a departure from these lines was received with. gloom. At the same time, the burden of advice we met in Singapore was that a journey around the world would be in

complete unless it included Siam. Finally the American Consul at Singapore, Major Struder, who had met General Grant on his landing, came with a letter from the King of Siam, enclosed in an envelope of blue satin, inviting him to his capital. The text of this letter was as follows:

"THE GRAND PALACE, BANGKOK, 4th Feb., 1879.

"MY DEAR SIR: Having heard from my Minister for Foreign Affairs, on the authority of the United States Consul, that you are expected in Singapore on your way to Bangkok, I beg to express the pleasure I shall have in making your acquaintance. Possibly you may arrive in Bangkok during my absence at my country residence, Bang Pa In, in which case a steamer will be placed at your disposal to bring you to me. On arrival I beg you to communicate with His Excellency my Minister of Foreign Affairs, who will arrange for your reception and entertainment. Very truly yours,

"CHULAHLONGKORN, R. S.

TO GENERAL GRANT, late President of the United States."

This letter-which the King had taken the trouble to send to Singapore, reinforced by an opinion expressed by the General, that when people really go around the world they might as well see what can be seen-decided the visit to Siam. Furthermore, a dispatch had been received from Captain Benham, commanding the "Richmond," that he would be at Galle on the 12th of April, and he estimated that he would be able to reach Singapore about the time we would return from Siam. This was a consideration, especially to the homesick members of our party, who felt that even in the tropics there would be compensation in meeting Americans, in being once more among fellow-citizens with whom you could talk intelligently on sensible subjects-Philadelphia butter, the depravity of the Democratic party, terrapin, green corn, saddle-rock oysters, and other themes to which the mind of the home-sick American always reverts in his lonely, moaning hours in far foreign lands.

A heavy tropical rain! How it rained, and rained, and rained, and swept over Singapore as we embarked on the small steamer "Kong-See" about nine in the morning of the 9th of April. Our friends-Colonel Anson, the Governor; Mr. Smith, the Colonial Secretary; Major Struder, the American Consul

(who had been with the General at Shiloh)-accompanied us to the vessel, where they took leave, and at once we went to sea. The rain remained with the Singapore hills as we parted from them, and a smooth sea was at our bidding. The run to Bangkok is set down at four days, and sometimes there are severe storms in the Gulf of Siam; but fortune was with us in this, as it has, indeed, been with us, so far as weather at sea is concerned, ever since we left Marseilles. We sat on the deck at night and looked at the Southern Cross, which is a disappointment as a constellation, and not to be compared, as some of our Philadelphia friends remarked, with our old-fash

ioned home constellations, which shine down upon you and abash you with their glory, and do not have to be picked out. after a careful search and made into a cross by a vivid imagination. The evening of our sailing, some one happened to remember, was the anniversary of the surrender of Lee-fourteen years ago to-day-and the hero of the surrender was sitting on the deck of a small steamer, smoking and looking at the clouds, and gravely arguing Mr. Borie out of a purpose which some one has wickedly charged him with entertaining-the purpose of visiting Australia and New Zealand and New Guinea, and spending the summer and winter in the Pacific Ocean.

The weather in the Gulf of Siam, which I have just been praising, is capricious. The days, as a general thing, were

THE GULF OF SIAM.

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pleasant, but squalls and storms came up without warning, and sent movable commodities, books, and newspapers flying about the deck. In these equatorial regions one of the comforts of existence is to sleep on deck, and shortly after the sun goes down your servant pitches your bed in some corner of the deck, near the wheel or against a coil of rope. Mr. Borie was induced to buy an extraordinary machine, made in the Rangoon jail, called a portable bed, which is unlike anything civilization has ever known in the shape of a bed. It comes together and unfolds, and is so intricate that it must have been made by a Chinaman. I do not think any of us really understand the principles upon which it is constructed. But in the evening Peter and Kassim and other servants parade the bed on deck and chatter over it a little while, and it becomes sleepable. The rest of the party take the floor. The General and Mrs. Grant bivouac on the right of the wheel; the Colonel has his encampment near the gangway; the Doctor lies cosily under the binnacle, and my own quarters are in the stern, where the ropes are coiled. But sleeping on deck in the Gulf of Siam is not as pleasant as we found it in the Bay of Bengal. first night out, being after midnight, Kassim came with the news that it was going to rain! Kassim has a terror of the sea -the Hindoo fear of the black water-and ever since he has been on board ship his bearing is that of one who lives in fear of some overwhelming and immediate peril. So when Kassim woke me up with news of the rain, I was not quite sure from his manner whether we were not running into a cyclone or one of those tremendous gales that so often sweep around the coasts of Asia. The clouds looked black and the stars had gone, and a few drops of rain came over the face, and the sea was in a light, easy, waltzing humor. Some of the party had already left the deck. The Doctor had fled on the first rumor, and Mrs. Grant was in refuge in the cabin. The captain was leaning over the traffrail looking at the skies. We took his counsel, and his assurance was that it was only the wind and there would be no rain. So we resumed our quarters, and Mr. Borie, who was already in retreat, with Peter in the rear, in command

On our