third, of wine; the fourth, of clarified butter; the fifth, of curdled milk; the sixth, of sweet milk; the seventh, of fresh water. In the centre of this vast annular system Mount Meru rose to the height of sixty-four thousand miles.

Upon this mountain was supposed to rest the heaven of the Hindus, and thither Yudhi-sthira proposed to make his pilgrimage. His brothers and their wife Draupadi insisted on going with him, for all were equally weary of the world. Their people would fain have accompanied them, but the princes sent them back and went unaccompanied save by their faithful dog. They kept on, fired by their high resolves, until they reached the long and dreary waste of sand that stretched before Mount Meru. There Draupadi fell and yielded up her life, and Yudhi-sthira, never turning to look back, told the questioning Bhima that she died because she loved her husbands better than all else, better than heaven. Next Sahadeva fell, then Nakalu, and afterwards Arjuna and Bhima. Yudhi-sthira, still striding on, informed Bhima that pride had slain the first, self-love the second, the sin of Arjuna was a lie, and Bhima had loved too well the good things of earth.

Followed by the dog, Yudhi-sthira pushed across the barren sand until he reached the mount and stood in the presence of the god. Well pleased with his perseverance, the god promised him the reward of entering into heaven in his own form, but he refused to go unless the dog could accompany him. After vainly attempting to dissuade him, the god allowed the dog to assume its proper form, and lo! it was Dharma, the god of justice, and the two entered heaven together.

But where were Draupadi and the gallant princes, her husbands? Yudhi-sthira could see them nowhere, and he questioned only to learn that they were in hell. His determination was quickly taken. There could be no heaven for him unless his brothers and their wife could share it with him. He demanded to be shown the path to hell, to enter which he walked over razors, and trod under foot mangled human forms. But joy of joys! The lotus-eyed Draupadi

called to him, and his brothers cried that his presence in hell brought a soothing breeze that gave relief to all the tortured souls.

Yudhi-sthira's self-sacrifice sufficiently tested, the gods proclaimed that it was all but an illusion shown to make him enjoy the more, by contrast, the blisses of heaven. The king Yudhi-sthira then bathed in the great river flowing through three worlds, and, washed from all sins and soils, went up, hand in hand with the gods, to his brothers, the Pandavas, and

"Lotus-eyed and loveliest Draupadi,

Waiting to greet him, gladdening and glad."

SELECTIONS FROM THE MAH–BHÂRATA.

SÂVITRÎ, OR Love and Death.

THE beautiful princess Sâvitrî of her own choice wedded the prince Satyavan, son of a blind and exiled king, although she knew that he was doomed by the gods to die within a year. When the year was almost gone, she sat for several days beneath a great tree, abstaining from food and drink, and imploring the gods to save him from death. On the fateful day she accompanied him to the forest to gather the sacred wood for the evening sacrifice. As he struck the tree with the axe he reeled in pain, and exclaiming, "I cannot work!" fell fainting.

Thereon that noble lady, hastening near,

Stayed him that would have fallen, with quick arms;
And, sitting on the earth, laid her lord's head
Tenderly in her lap. So bent she, mute,

Fanning his face, and thinking 't was the day-
The hour which Narad named

- the sure fixed date
Of dreadful end- when, lo! before her rose
A shade majestic. Red his garments were,
His body vast and dark; like fiery suns
The eyes which burned beneath his forehead-cloth;
Armed was he with a noose, awful of mien.
This Form tremendous stood by Satyavan,
Fixing its gaze upon him. At the sight

The fearful Princess started to her feet.
Heedfully laying on the grass his head,

Up started she, with beating heart, and joined
Her palms for supplication, and spake thus
In accents tremulous: "Thou seem'st some God;
Thy mien is more than mortal; make me know
What god thou art, and what thy purpose here."

And Yama said (the dreadful god of death): "Thou art a faithful wife, O Sávitrî,

True to thy vows, pious, and dutiful;
Therefore I answer thee. Yama I am!
This Prince thy lord lieth at point to die;
Him will I straightway bind and bear from life;
This is my office, and for this I come."

Then Sâvitrî spake sadly: "It is taught
Thy messengers are sent to fetch the dying;
Why is it, Mightiest, thou art come thyself?"

In pity of her love, the Pityless

the King of all the Dead replied: "This was a Prince unparalleled, thy lord; Virtuous as fair, a sea of goodly gifts, Not to be summoned by a meaner voice Than Yama's own: therefore is Yama come."

With that the gloomy God fitted his noose And forced forth from the Prince the soul of him Subtile, a thumb in length which being reft, Breath stayed, blood stopped, the body's grace was gone,

And all life's warmth to stony coldness turned.

Then, binding it, the Silent Presence bore
Satyavan's soul away toward the South.

But Sâvitrî the Princess followed him ;

Being so bold in wifely purity,
So holy by her love; and so upheld,
She followed him.

Presently Yama turned.

"Go back," quoth he. "Pay for him funeral dues.

Enough, O Sâvitrî, is wrought for love;

Go back! Too far already hast thou come."

Then Sâvitrî made answer: 66 I must go
Where my lord goes, or where my lord is borne ;
Naught other is my duty. Nay, I think,

By reason of my vows, my services,
Done to the Gurus, and my faultless love,
Grant but thy grace, I shall unhindered go.
The sages teach that to walk seven steps
One with another, maketh good men friends;
Beseech thee, let me say a verse to thee:

"Be master of thyself, if thou wilt be
Servant of Duty. Such as thou shalt see
Not self-subduing, do no deeds of good
In youth or age, in household or in wood.
But wise men know that virtue is best bliss,
And all by some one way may reach to this.
It needs not men should pass through orders four
To come to knowledge: doing right is more
Than any learning; therefore sages say
Best and most excellent is Virtue's way."

Spake Yama then: "Return! yet I am moved
By those soft words; justly their accents fell,
And sweet and reasonable was their sense.
See now, thou faultless one. Except this life
I bear away, ask any boon from me;

It shall not be denied."

Sâvitrî said:

"Let, then, the King, my husband's father, have His eyesight back, and be his strength restored, And let him live anew, strong as the sun."

"I give this gift," Yama replied. "Thy wish, Blameless, shall be fulfilled. But now go back; Already art thou wearied, and our road

Is hard and long. Turn back, lest thou, too, die."

The Princess answered: "Weary am I not,
So I walk near my lord. Where he is borne,
Thither wend I. Most mighty of the Gods,
I follow wheresoe'er thou takest him.

A verse is writ on this, if thou wouldst hear:

"There is naught better than to be
With noble souls in company:
There is naught better than to wend
With good friends faithful to the end.
This is the love whose fruit is sweet,
Therefore to bide within is meet."

Spake Yama, smiling: "Beautiful! thy words
Delight me; they are excellent, and teach
Wisdom unto the wise, singing soft truth.
Look, now! Except the life of Satyavan,
Ask yet another-any-boon from me."

Sâvitrî said: "Let, then, the pious King, My husband's father, who hath lost his throne, Have back the Raj; and let him rule his realm In happy righteousness. This boon I ask."

"He shall have back the throne," Yama replied, "And he shall reign in righteousness: these things Will surely fall. But thou, gaining thy wish, Return anon; so shalt thou 'scape sore ill."

แ "Ah, awful God! who hold'st the world in leash,"
The Princess said, "restraining evil men,
And leading good men - even unconscious
Where they attain, hear yet those famous words:--

there,

"The constant virtues of the good are tenderness and love To all that lives in earth, air, sea —great, small — be

low, above;
Compassionate of heart, they keep a gentle thought for each,
Kind in their actions, mild in will, and pitiful of speech;
Who pitieth not, he hath not faith; full many an one so lives,
But when an enemy seeks help, a good man gladly gives."

"As water to the thirsty," Yama said, "Princess, thy words melodious are to me. Except the life of Satyavan, thy lord, Ask one boon yet again, for I will grant."

Answer made Sâvitrî: "The King, my sire,
Hath no male child. Let him see many sons
Begotten of his body, who may keep
The royal line long regnant. This I ask."

"So shall it be," the Lord of Death replied; "A hundred fair preservers of his race Thy sire shall boast. But this wish being won, Return, dear Princess; thou hast come too far."

"It is not far for me," quoth Sâvitrî, "Since I am near my husband; nay, my heart Is set to go as far as to the end;

But hear these other verses, if thou wilt:

"By that sunlit name thou bearest,

Thou, Vaivaswata! art dearest ;
Those that as their Lord proclaim thee,

King of Righteousness do name thee:
Better than themselves the wise

Trust the righteous. Each relies
Most upon the good, and makes

Friendship with them. Friendship takes
Fear from hearts; yet friends betray,
In good men we may trust alway."