vanced a few steps from the door; for already was the corn again reaped, and she stood once more among the stubble in the field, "Adieu! adieu!" she repeated, and threw her arms round a flower that stood near her, "Greet the little swallow for me, when you see him again," added she. crown upon his head, and had beautiful wings on his shoulders; and withal he was not a bit bigger than Ellise herself. He was the angel of this flower. In every flower dwell a pair of such like little men and women, but this was the king of all the flower angels. 64 So "Quivit! quivit !" echoed near her in the same Heavens! how handsome this king is," whismoment, and, as Ellise raised her eyes, she saw her pered Ellise into the ear of the swallow. The little well-known little swallow fly past. As soon as the prince was somewhat startled by the arrival of the swallow perceived Ellise, he too became quite joy-large bird; but when he saw Ellise, he became ful, and bastened at once to his kind nurse; and instantly in love with her; for she was the most she told him how unwilling she was to have the charming little maiden that he had ever seen. ugly mole for her husband, and that she must go he took off his golden crown, set it upon Ellise, and down deep into the earth, where neither sun nor asked what was her name, and whether she would moon could ever look upon her, and with these be his wife; if so, she should be queen over all the words she burst into tears. other flowers-ah! this was a very different husband to the son of the hideous toad, and the heavy, stupid mole, with his velvet coat! So Ellise said yes, to the beauufui prince; and now, from all the other flowers, appeared either a gentleman or a lady, all wonderfully elegant and beautiful, to bring presents to Ellise. The best presents offered to ner was a pair of exquisite white wings, which were immediately fastened on her; and now she could fly from flower to flower. "See now," said the swallow, "the cold winter is coming again, and I am flying away to the warm countries, will you come and travel with me? I will carry you gladly on my back. You need only to bind yourself fast with your girdle, so we can fly away far from the disagreeable mole, and his dark house, far over mountains and valleys, to the beautiful countries, where the sun shines much warmer than it does here; where there is summer always, and always beautiful flowers blooming. Come, be comforted, and fly away with me, you dear, kind, Ellise, who saved my life when I lay frozen in the earth." Yes, I will go with you!" cried Ellise joyfully. She mounted on the back of the swallow, set her feet upon his out-spread wings, bound herself with her girdle to a strong feather, and flew off with the swallow through the air, over woods and lakes, valleys and mountains. Very often Ellise suffered from the cold when they went over icy glaciers and snowy rocks; but then she concealed herself under the wings and among the feathers of the bird, and merely put out her head to gaze and wonder at all the glorious things around her. At last too, they came into the warm countries. The sun shines there clearer than with us; the heavens were a great deal higher, and on the walls and in the hedges grew the most beautiful blue and green grapes. In the woods hung ripe citrons and oranges, and the air was full of the scent of thyme and myrtle, while beautiful children ran in the roads playing with the gayest-coloured butterflies. But further and further flew the swallow, and below them it became more and more beautiful. By the side of a lake, beneath graceful acacias, there rose an ancient marble palace, the vines clung around the pillars, while above them, on their summits, hung many a swallow's nest. Into one of these nests the bird carried Ellise. "Here is my house," said he, “but look you for one of the loveliest flowers, which grow down there, for your home, and I will carry you there, and you shall have everything you can possibly want." "That would be glorious indeed!" said Ellise, and she clapped her hands together for very joy. Upon the earth there lay a large white marble pillar, which had been thrown down, and was broken into three pieces, but between its ruins there grew the very fairest flowers, all white, the loveliest you would ever wish to see. The swallow flew with Ellise to one of these flowers, and set her down upon a broad leaf; but how astonished was Ellise when she saw that a wee little man sat in this flower, who was as fine and transparent as glass. He wore a graceful little And now the joy was universal. The little swallow sat above in his nest, and sang as well as he possibly could, though at the same time he was sorely grieved, for he was so fond of Ellise, that he wanted never to part from her again. You shall not be called Ellise any more," said the flower-angel, "for it is not at all a pretty name, and you are so pretty! But from this moment, you shall be called Maja." Farewell! Farewell!" cried the little swallow, and away he flew again, out of the warm land, far, far away, to the little Denmark, where he had his summer nest over the window of the good man, who knows how to tell stories, that he might sing his Quivit! Quivit! before him. And it is from him, the little swallow, that we have learnt all this wonderful history. POPULAR YEAR-BOOK. to ST. MARGARET was the daughter of a heathen priest, and born at Antioch. Olybius, President of the East under the Romans, loved and wished to marry her; but finding that she was a Christian, resolved to defer her religion. When he found himself unable to accomthe nuptias till he could persuade her to renounce plish his design by persuasion he had recourse burning with rage and disappointment, he first put threats; and, at length, despairing of success, and St. Margaret to the most cruel torments, and tuen caused her to be beheaded, a. D. 278. "Sne has," says Wheatly, the same office among the papists as Lucina has among the heathens; viz: to assist women in labour." The cause why the above power was attributed to this saint appears to have been the following miracle, which is ascribed to her by her monkish biographers— When neither Olybius nor her father could force her to apostatize, they obtained, it is related, the assistswallowed her alive. No sooner, however, had the saint ance of Satan himself, who, in the shape of a dragon, entered the inside of the monster, than she made the sign of the cross, and "yssued out all hole and sounde." So marvellous a circumstance "naturally," says Brady, pointed out the province of St. Margaret; for who could so well be capable" of aiding females in childbirth, "as one who had extricated herself even from the body of the arch-enemy!" The "Golden Legend," that treasury of hagiological fiction, relates that a devil appeared to St. Margaret, in the likeness of a man, but she caught him by the head, threw him down, and set her right foot on his neck, and said, "Lie still, thou fiend, under the foot of a wonian." In that situation the demon admitted he was vanquished, and affirmed that he would not have cared if a young man had conquered him, but he was very vexed at having been overcome by one of the weaker sex. St. Margaret asked him who he was. He replied that his nanie was Veltis, that he was one of the multitude of devils who had been enclosed in a brass vessel by Solomon, and that after that wise king's death this vessel was broken at Babylon, by persons who supposed it contained a treasure, when all the demons new out, and took to the air, where they were incessantly spying how toassayle ryghtfull men." Then she took her foot from his neck, and said to him, "Flee hence, thou wretched fiend," and lo!" the earth opened, and the fiend sank in." St. Margaret's festival is very ancient, not only in the Western, but also in the Eastern Church, in which she is commemorated under the appellation of Marina. her name has a place in the kalendar of the Church of England. July 21.-The memory of St. Victor of Marseilles is celebrated on this day by the Latins. He was a martyr under the Emperor Maximian. The abbey of St. Victor at Marseilles was one of the most celebrated religious foundations in Europe, and claimed to be the first monastery established in France. On St. Victor's day were formerly held at the above city a festival and procession, in his honour, called La Triomphale." The relics of the saint were carried round the town by the prior of the monastery, attended by the whole cominu nity, .. This At the head of the procession marched a cavalier in complete armour, highly ornamented, carrying a lance in one hand, and in the other the standard of the abbey, on which were the arms, richly embroidered. He wore a rich scarf, and his horse had a housing o white damask, ornamented with blue crosses. cavalier was intended to represent St. Victor. He was preceded by twelve horsemen, carrying lighted tapers, and accompanied by a band of music, with drums and trumpets. Six pages followed him. As soon as the people heard the music, and saw the standard, they hocked in crowds to join the procession. As it passed along the quay of the port, all the vessels hoisted their colours, and saluted it with a discharge of cannon and musketry, and the consuls, with the rest of the magistrates, met it at an appointed place, to pay their homage to the saint, and attend him back to the abbey. This ceremony had been observed every year from time immemorial, till Monsieur de Beisunce, the bishop of Marseilles, who distinguished himself so much in the great plague of 1720, prevailed upon the magistrates to consent to its abolition, for the following reason:-He was about to publish a biography of the bishops, his predecessors, from the first conversion of the town to the Christian faith, among whom it was necessary to include St. Victor; and not wishing him to appear otherwise than a Christian bishop and martyr, he thought he would not be considered in these lights only, while the people were accustomed to see him every year in a character directly opposite, so that no way appeared of making the impression he desired, except by the measure above alluded to. A pedestrian tourist, who visited Grassmere, Westmoreland, on July 21, 1827, relates, "The church door was open, and I discovered that the villagers were strewing the floors with fresh rushes. I learnt from the old clerk that, according to annual custom, the rushbearing procession would be in the evening. During the whole of this day I observed the chilaren busily employed in preparing garlands of such wild flowers as the beautiful valley produces for the evening procession, which commenced at nine, in the following order:"The children (chiefly girls), holding these garlands, paraded through the village, preceded by the union band. They then entered the church, where the three largest gariands were placed on the altar, and the remaining ones in various other parts of the place. Wordsworth is the chief supporter of these rustic ceremonies. The procession over, the party adjourned to the ball-room, a hay-loft, where the country lads and lasses tripped it merrily and heavily." It appears, says Brand, that in ancient times the parishioners brought rushes at the Feast of Dedication, wherewith to strew the church; and from that circumstance the festivity itself has obtained the name of rush-bearing, which occurs for a country-wake in a glossary to the Lancashire dialect. Rush-bearing is now almost entirely confined to Westmoreland. It was once customary in Craven, as we learn from the following extract from Dr. Whitaker: "Among the seasons of periodical festivity was the rush-bearing, or the ceremony of conveying fresh rushes to strew the floor of the parish church. This method of covering floors was universal in houses while floors were of earth, but is now confined to places of worship. The bundles of the girls were adorned with wreaths of flowers, and the evening concluded with a Westmoreland the custom has undergone a change. In Craven the usage has wholly ceased." In Formerly, the maidens bore the rushes in the evening procession, and strewed the church floor at the same time that they decorated the church with garlands; now, the rushes are laid in the morning, by the ringer and clerk, and none are introduced in the evening procession. dance. the rural ceremony of rush-bearing worthy of celebration The great living poet above mentioned has deemed in immortal verse." He sings: "Content with calmer scenes around us spread, This day, when, forth by rustic inusic led, The innocent procession softly moves: The spirit of Laud is pleased in Heaven's pure clime, And Hooker's voice the spectacle approves!" A July 24 is the feast of St. Declan, first bishop of Ardmore, in the county of Waterford, and, according to tradition, the friend and companion of St. Patrick. stone, a holy well, and churchyard, still bear his name. a dormitory in Ardmore "St. Declan's stone" is on the beach. It is a large rock, resting on two others, which elevate it a little above the ground, and is said to be endued with miraculous powers. On the 24th of July numbers of the lowest class of Irish (the men clad in trousers and shirts, or in shirts alone; the women in petticoats, pinned above the knees) kncel around the stone, and some (in expectation thereby of curing or preventing rheumatic affections of the back.) creep under it. This is not effected without considerable pain and difficulty, owing to the narrowness of the passage and the sharpness of the rocks. Stretched at ruil length on the ground on the face and stomach, the devotees move forward, one by one, as if in the act of swimming, and thus squeeze or drag themselves through. On one not very remote occasion upwards of eleven hundred persons were observed to undergo this ceremony in the course of the day. At a short distance from St. Declan's stone," on a cliff overhanging the sea, is the well of the saint. Thither the crowds repair after the devotions at the rock are ended. Having drank plentifully of its water, they wash their legs and feet in the stream which issues from it, and, telling their beads, sprinkle themselves and their neighbours with the fluid. These performances over, the "dormitory of St. Declan," a small low building, is then resorted to. Hundreds at a time are said to crowd around it, and crush each other in their eagerness to obtain a handful of the earth which is believed to cover the mortal remains of the saint. This visit completes the "pious exercises" of the "devotionalists." Tents, for the sale of whiskey, &c., are placed in parallel lines along the shore, and thronged throughout the day with thirsty customers. CANTERBURY CATHEDRALA THE Cathedral of Canterbury is remarkable not only for having been one of the earliest in England, but also, as at present, one of the largest of our cathedral churches. Its history is highly interesting from the eminence of some of its archbishops and others who occupy prominent places in history. A former cathedral, supposed to occupy the site of the present one, was sufficiently old to have had some claims to antiquity when the Venerable Bede wrote his Ecclesiastical History. Bede tells us, that when St. Augustine (the first archbishop) came to reside here, he recovered, by the king's assistance, a church, which was said to have been constructed by Roman Christians; and that he consecrated it in the name of the Saviour, our God and Lord Jesus Christ. In this city he established a residence for himself and his successors in the Sec. Cuthbert, the eleventh archbishop, made some additions to the buildings, and obtained permission from Pope Gregory, that all future archbishops might be buried in their own church. In the days of Archbishop Odo, the roof was in such a dangerous state, that he resolved upon its immediate repair. "But because it was absolutely necessary that the Divine Service should not be interrupted, and no temple could be found sufficiently capacious to receive the multitude of the people, the archbishop prayed to Heaven, that, until the work should be completed, neither rain nor wind might be suffered to intrude within the walls of the church, so as to prevent the performance of the service. And so it came to pass for during three years in which the walls of the church were being carried upwards, the whole building remained open to the sky; yet did no rain fall either within the walls of the church, or even within the walls of the city, that could impede the clergy standing in the church in the performance of their duty, or restrain the people from coming even to the beginning of it. And truly it was a sight worth seeing, to behold the space beyond the walls of the city drenched with water, while the walls themselves remained perfectly dry." 2-Pp. 3, 4. A.D. 1070, when Lanfranc came to the See, the church and some of the conventual buildings were in a most ruinous state. The former he restored from the foundations in a more noble style, and he also rebuilt the monastery. Having been enlarged by Anselm, it was dedicated with great splendour by Archbishop William, in the presence of Henry I., David, king of Scotland," and all the bishops of England." Professor Willis says:- "It is scarcely necessary to remark, that this building was plainly not of wood; Odo is distinctly said to have raised the walls, but whether of stone or brick does not appear. However, the expression and details which have survived to us concerning the operation (1) The Architectural History of Canterbury Cathedral. By the Rev. R. Willis, M.A. F.R.S. &c., Jacksonian Professor of the University of Cambridge, Svo. 1845. London: Longman, & Co., Pickering, and Bell. (2) Edmer, Vit. Odonis: quoted by Mr. Willis. The third chapter of the volume before us contains a literal translation of Gervase his History of the Burning and Repair of the Church of Canterbury. This is given entire, with the exception of a quotation from the Opuscula of Edmer, which is contained in another part of the volume, and of a long digression upon the merits of Thomas à Becket. The value of Gervase's tract is thus explained by the author :-- "The most remarkable medieval writer of architectural history is undoubtedly Gervase. Himself a monk of Christ Church at Becket's death, and an eye-witness of the fire in 1174, and of the rebuilding of the church, he has left us a most valuable and minute account of the latter event, in his tract On the Burning and Repair of the Church of Canterbury.' The information thus conveyed is not confined to the church in question, but gives us a general insight into the modes of proceeding in the carrying on of buildings at that period, the manner of providing architects, the time consumed in erecting these structures, the way in which old portions were adapted and worked up, the temporary expedients for carrying on the daily service, the care which was taken of the venerated remains unavoidably disturbed by the progress of the work, and many other most instructive particulars, which occur in every page of this circumstantial writer.”—P. xiv. In the year of grace 1174, nearly four years after the murder of Thomas à Becket, considerable portions of the Cathedral were again destroyed by fire; and again were the citizens called upon to lament that their holy and their beautiful house was left unto them desolate. Gervase says, " The afflictions of Canterbury were no less than those of Jerusalem of old, and their wailings were as the lamentations of Jeremiah." The restoration of the church was confided to a French architect, William of Sens. In the fourth year of his labours here, he fell from a height of fifty feet; and, being obliged by the injuries he received to return home, was succeeded by an Englishman-a namesake. In the year 1180, at Easter-Eve, the convent were again permitted to celebrate the divine offices in their new choir; but the works were not entirely finished until 1184. Professor Willis says, "the expenses of this magnificent work seem to have been partly supplied from the oblations at the tomb of St. Thomas." "Gervase has given us," says Professor Willis, “a complete and detailed account of the parts of Lanfranc's church that remained in his time, (chap. iii. art. 3,) that is, the nave, central tower, western towers, transepts, and their eastern chapels; the choir or eastern arm of its cruciform plan only being deficient...... In the existing building it happens that the nave and transepts have been transformed into the perpendicular style of the fourteenth century, and the central tower carried up to about its original altitude in the same style. Nevertheless several indications may be detected, which show that these changed parts stand upon the old foundations of Lanfranc."-Pp. 63, 64. Professor Willis's sixth chapter contains the history of the choir from the twelfth century, from which we make the following extracts :- "Stow has preserved a description of the shrine of Becket, which was demolished in the year 1538. It was built about a man's height, all of stone, then upwards of timber plain, within which was a chest of iron containing the bones of Thomas à Becket. The timberwork of this shrine was covered with plates of gold, damasked and embossed with wires of gold, garnished with (3) This chronological term, Professor Willis says, was invented by Gervase himself. brooches, images, chains, precious stones, and great orient pearls; the spoils of which shrine filled two great chests, one of which six or eight strong men could do no more than convey out of the church; all which was taken to the king's use, and the bones of St. Thomas, by the commandment of the Lord Cromwell, then and there burned to ashes; which was in September, in the year 1538, (30 H. VIII.) Erasmus supplies the additional information, that the golden shrine had a wooden cover suspended by ropes, so that it could be raised easily when the shrine was exhibited. The bones of the saint were not visible, they were deposited in the upper part of the structure."-P. 100. "The Puritan troopers hewed the altar rails in pieces in 1642, and threw the altar over and over down the three altar steps, and left it lying with the heels upwards. The church suffered exceedingly in the disorders that followed."-P. 105. "These dilapidations are more particularly described in a manuscript drawn up in 1662, and preserved in the cathedral library. The windows were generally battered and broken down; the whole roof, with that of the steeples, the chapter-house and cloisters, extremely impaired and ruined, both in timber-work and lead; water-tables, pipes, and much other lead cut off The choir stripped and robbed of her fair and goodly hangings; the organ and organ-loft, communion-table, and the best and chiefest of her furniture, with the rail before it, and the screen of tabernacle-work richly overlaid with gold behind it; goodly monuments shamefully abused, defaced, and rifled of brasses, iron grates, and bars, &c." "After the Restoration, a screen of the style then in use was erected, in the same position as the old one, and the communion-table placed in front. The choir in this state is represented in Dart's view. But, in 1729, the altar-piece,' as it was called, had become old-fashioned, and a bequest of 5007. from one of the prebendaries was expended upon a Corinthian screen. Pp. 105, 106. The curious arrangement of the organ and organist must not be passed over.-' -The organ ".. has been ingeniously deposited out of sight, in the triforium of the south side of the choir; a low pedestal with its keys stands in the choir itself, so as to place the organist close to the singers, as he ought to be; and the communication between the keys and the organ is effected by trackers passing under the pavement of the side aisle, and conducted up to the triforium, through a trunk let into the south wall."--P. 107. "The visit of Erasmus to Canterbury Cathedral is alluded to by all its historians, and is, unfortunately, too long and digressive to be given at length. I have already quoted it upon several occasions, and will conclude this section by endeavouring to abstract from it the order in which strangers were conducted over the cathedral at that time. He entered by the south porch, over which he observed the statues of the three knights who slew Thomas à Becket. In the nave he noted certain books fixed to the pillars, and amongst them the Gospel of Nicodemus. Iron railings separated the nave from the space which was between that and the choir. Many steps ascended to this space, and under them a vaulted passage led to the north part (or transept), where he was shown the small ancient wooden altar of the virgin. -(P. 41). From this place he was conducted down to the crypt, and shewn the skull of St. Thomas, and his ordinary garments. Then he returned, and went to the choir, where, on the north side, he was shown a multitude of relics, and examined the Tabula' and ornaments of the altar, and the riches beneath the altar, in the presence of which Midas and Croesus would have seemed beggars. '-P. 112. In the volume before us, Professor Willis has presented us with the most continuous and complete history we possess of any of our cathedrals. And, perhaps, no other furnishes materials for its equal in that respect. This he has been enabled to do, in the earlier part of its history, from the writings of Edmer, the singer, or precentor of the cathedral, who lived under the rule of Anselm and Radulph; and in the twelfth century from the tract of Gervase. The Professor's present volume, as its title implies, is strictly an architectural history of the cathedral. Another is promised which will be devoted to the monastic building. He thus speaks of the advantages to be derived from investigations such as have been now devoted to the cathedral of Canterbury: "The cathedral which is the subject of the following pages is remarkable for its extent, beauty, and importance, for the variety of its architectural styles, for the changes of plan and structure which it has undergone, and especially for the numerous historical particulars relating to these changes which have been preserved to us. "By a careful investigation of the architectural history of Canterbury Cathedral, we may therefore expeet to obtain great insight into the motives that dictated such changes of plan and structure in all similar buildings, as well as a knowledge of the mode of their erection, and of the causes that led to those wellknown varieties of style that form so interesting, and, at the same time, so perplexing a subject for investigation.”—P. xi. Professor Willis has avoided mixing up the history of the See, important as it is, with his historical account of the building; and in this respect the work is unlike those of most other writers on this cathedral. He has thus made his volume more acceptable to the architectural student and to the antiquarian. He says his plan has been, "first to collect all the written evidence, and then, by a close comparison of it with the building itself, to make the best identification of the one with the other that I have been able." The numerous illustrations are executed in a beautiful style: they are chiefly details of particular parts of the church. There are also plans of the Saxon cathedral of Canterbury, of the cathedral in 1174, and an historical plan of the present cathedral, with a block section of it. No general view of the building is given, either exterior or interior; but he has referred throughout to the admirable plates of Mr. Britton. Palm Leaves. THE VISION OF THE EAGLE AND THE FOX. THE great king, Abbas Karaskan, appointed his servant, Mirza, governor of Tauris. Mirza held the scales of justice in his hands; he protected the weak, he honoured the wise, and rewarded the industrious. His subjects regarded him with love and respect, and every mouth blessed his government. He alone derived no satisfaction from his charitable actions. A deep sadness rested on his countenance; he sought for solitude; oft-times sat in deep abstraction; and, when he went abroad, his eyes were bent upon the earth, and his steps were heavy; in short, the occupations of his government had lost their interest, and he determined to rid himself of a task which he had long felt to be burdensome. With this determination he approached the throne of his king and master, who asked him his desire. "Governor of the realm," said Mirza, 'pardon the temerity of thy slave, whom thou hast invested with honours, and yet who presumes to lay thy gracious gifts down again at thy feet. Thou hast given me the government of a noble city, and of a fruitful country, whose meadows equal the gardens of Damascus. But the space of human life is small; scarcely does it suffice any of us to prepare for death. Much of our toil is vain and useless, even as the labour of the ant, which is crushed beneath the foot of the wanderer; and our pleasures fade away like the colours of the rainbow in the stormy cloud. Therefore, sire, I seek to prepare myself for the eternity which approaches; I would fain give my mind to reflection, and in retirement seek to dedicate my life to holy meditation. The world may forget me, even as I also will banish all thoughts thereof from my mind, till the last moment lets fall the veil, and places me before the judgment-seat of the Almighty." Here Mirza bowed himself to the earth, and was silent. King Abbas was so surprised at his speech that he trembled upon his throne; he looked around upon his nobles, but their faces were pale, and their eyes bent upon the ground; no one opened his mouth, until the King, after long consideration, thus broke the silence : youth, the remembrance of which thou hast revived in my mind; and may the Prophet of Truth, who taught me by them, make the relation thereof a blessing unto thee! "I was instructed by Alnazer the Wise in the secrets of medicine, and very early became initiated therein. I knew the virtues of those herbs into which the sun breathes the power of yielding a health-bestowing balsam; but the various forms of misery, of slow decay, and, at last, of death itself, which were daily before my eyes, filled my heart with sorrow and fear. I saw the grave, whose prey I must sooner or later become, ever open before me; and this, at last, made me resolve to devote my few remaining days to holy meditation. All earthly possessions appeared despicable to me, since I knew they could be held but for a short time; nay more, I deemed them hindrances to piety. Therefore, I buried my money in the earth, withdrew from society, and departed into the desert. "O Mirza! fear and horror have seized me; II took up my abode in a cave on the side of a am like a man cast by an irresistible power from the edge of a precipice, but yet I know not if my danger be real or imaginary. Like thee, I am but a worm upon the earth; my life is a moment; and eternity, in comparison with which years and ages are as nothing, also warns me, by its dread approach, to be prepared. But shall we give up the government of the faithful into the hands of wicked men, who live like the beasts which perish, and fear neither death nor the judgment of their Maker? Is the cell of the hermit the only door of Paradise? And are all the occupations of the countless inhabitants of this city to be accounted sins? All men cannot be hermits, therefore a life in the wilderness cannot be the only one worthy of recompense. Retire for a while; I will consider thy request; and may He who enlightens the souls of those that seek his aid, guide me to decide in the spirit of wisdom!” Mirza departed; but on the third day, without waiting the command of the King, he requested a second audience. It was granted him, and he entered the presence-chamber with a joyful countenance. Drawing a letter from his bosom, he kissed it, and then, with his right hand, presented it to the King. Sire," said he, "in this letter, written to me by the Iman Kosru, who stands before thee, I have learnt what is the best life for me. He has enabled me to look with satisfaction upon the past, and with hope to the future. I shall henceforth deem myself happy to dwell under the shadow of thy power, and to bear the weight of honour which I was so lately desirous of relinquishing." The King listened to Mirza with curiosity and astonishment, and as soon as he ceased, gave the letter to the Iman, and commanded him to read it aloud. The whole assembly turned their eyes upon the aged sage, whose face glowed with modesty; after some hesitation, he read the following words: "Everlasting happiness be granted to Mirza, whom the wisdom of our monarch has rewarded with the government of a province. When I heard thy decision to withdraw thy supporting hands from the inhabitants of Tauris, my heart was pierced by the arrow of grief, and my eyes darkened by affliction; but who dare speak when the King is angry? or who can set forth his own wisdom when the King's mind is disturbed by doubt? But to thee, O Mirza! will I relate the events of ray | mountain; I drank water from the stream which flowed beside it, and fed upon the wild fruit and herbs which grew in this wilderness. I often placed myself at the mouth of the cave, turned my face towards the east, and thus watched the night through, that by self-denial I might prepare my mind to receive the heavenly teaching of the Prophet. One morning, when I had thus watched during the whole night, and just as the eastern sky was becoming faintly tinged by the first rays of the early dawn, sleep overtook me. I slept, and beheld a vision:-Methought I was in front of my cave. The dawning day became brighter, and when I looked towards the glimmering sunrise, I observed a dark speck in the sky. It moved, and as it approached, it increased in size, until at last the form of an eagle became apparent. I bent my eyes upon his flight, and saw him descend to the earth at some little distance, where there lay a fox, whose forelegs appeared to be broken. The eagle bore in his talons a piece of a young fawn, which he laid before the fox, and then flew away. I awoke, and was wondering what this dream betokened, when I heard a voice in the air, saying: Kosru, I saw the Angel, who, at the command of the All-powerful, had watched the thoughts of thy heart, and I have brought thee this vision to guide thy erring footsteps into the right way. Up, and imitate the eagle. Thou hast his power, and many sufferers await thy support. Visit the weak and afflicted in their trouble, and convey to them health and comfort. Virtue is not found in idle rest, but in welldirected activity and labour; and when thou doest good to a suffering fellow-creature, then dost thou fulfil the most beautiful of the commandments which religion sets before thee. Doing good exalts human nature, and gives to man a foretaste of the bliss which awaits him in that Paradise where is perfect charity.' "At these words I felt as though a mountain were removed from beneath my feet. I knelt down in the dust, and lamented my error; then I returned to the city, and dug up my treasure; I gave much away, but still I was rich; and through my gift of healing the body I often obtained opportunities of benefiting the soul. I took holy orders, and gained respect on account of my profession, until, by a gracious command, I was admitted into the presence of the King. But let me not deceive thee; I cannot boast of any wisdom that has not been given to |