SIR ROBERT PEEL'S DAUGHTER.
Society has a way of avenging itself for the wrongs committed on the lowest of all its members. Sir Robert Peel gave his daughter a magnificent riding-habit on her nineteenth birthday, and, attired in the embroidered gown, she rode side by side with him in the parks of London. She had scarcely returned home before she was taken ill with the most malignant form of typhus fever, and in ten days was laid to rest in the church-yard. And the secret was very simple. The poor seamstress, in a garret in one of the slums, while she was embroidering that garment looked upon a husband shivering in the paroxysm of chills, and she took the half-finished garment and laid it over him; and the garment took up the germs of fever, and conveyed them from the hovel to the palace of the statesman. And so we are bound together in one bundle of social life, and if we neglect the poorest and the lowest, society will avenge itself in the destruction of the highest, richest, and most cultivated.—Our Dumb Animals.