There will not vex thee memories of the past,

While hope will heighten here the joys thou hast.

This do, while yet the power is in thine hand,

While thou hast helps so many at command."

Then raised the prince his head with courage new,

And what the sage advised, prepared to do.

He ruled his realm with meekness, and meanwhile

He marvellously decked the chosen isle; Bade there his servants build up royal towers,

And change its barren sands to leafy bowers;

Bade fountains there be hewn, and caused to bloom

Immortal amaranths, shedding rich perfume.

And when he long enough had kept his throne,

To him sweet odors from that isle were blown;

Then knew he that its gardens blooming were,

And all the yearnings of his soul were there.

Grief was it not to him, but joy, when they

His crown and sceptre bade him quit one day;

When him his servants rudely did dismiss,

'Twas not the sentence of his ended bliss,

But pomp and power he cheerfully forsook,

And to his isle a willing journey took, And found diviner pleasure on that shore,

Than all his proudest state had known before..

RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH
(1807-1886).

BEN-AMMI AND THE FAIRIES.

A RABBINICAL TALE.

ONCE on a time a stranger came At midnight to a wealthy man,

Rabbi Ben-Ammi was his name,And thus his salutation ran:

"Rabbi! I have child at home,

Who on the morrow's early light Is eight days old; and thou must come And celebrate the sacred rite."

Now this Ben-Ammi, be it known,

Though few, indeed, were rich as he, With growing wealth, alas! had grown A miser to the last degree.

And yet he held, it should be told,
His office in such pure regard,
With all his sordid lust of gold,
He served the poor without reward.

So at the word Ben-Ammi rose,
And when the sacred Law was read,
Forth in the night the Rabbi goes,
To follow where the stranger led.

The night was dark, and, sooth to say, The road they trod was rough, indeed; Yet on and on they took their way, Where'er the stranger chose to lead.

At last they reached, towards the dawn,
A rock so huge, within a wood,
A hundred steeds could not have drawn
The mighty stone from where it stood.

Now mark the wonder that occurred:
The stranger touched it with his hand,
Spoke to himself some mystic word,
And straight it moved from off the
land.

And now the wondering Rabbi found
The earth was open for a space,
With steps that led beneath the ground,
As if to some mysterious place.
Descending these with prudent care,

And going far and farther down, They reached an open country, where They found, at length, a peopled town.

Among the houses, large and small,

There stood a palace vast and grand, And here, within a spacious hall,

Were fairy-folks, on every hand.

Now going where the woman lay,

Whose child the sacred rite required,

A boy of twelve, who heard these words

repass,

And dropped the lilies from his slender hands:

"Nay, father; none among you understands.

True rest he only finds who evermore Looks not behind, but to the things before;

Who, scorning fame and power and home and pelf,

Loveth his brother as he loves himself." ANONYMOUS. (Attributed to Thomas Bailey Aldrich.)

A BEAUTIFUL LEGEND.

SOFTLY fell the touch of twilight on JuIdea's silent hills;

Slowly crept the peace of moonlight o'er Judea's trembling rills. In the temple's court, conversing, seven elders sat apart;

Seven grand and hoary sages, wise of head and pure of heart. "What is rest?" said Rabbi Judah, he of stern and steadfast gaze; "Answer, ye whose toils have burdened

thro' the march of many days." "To have gained," said Rabbi Ezra, "dccent wealth and goodly store Without sin, by honest labor-nothing less and nothing more."

"To

have found," said Rabbi Joseph, meekness in his gentle eyes, "A foretaste of heaven's sweetness in home's blessed paradise."

"To have wealth, and power, and glory, crowned and brightened by the pride

Of uprising children's children," Rabbi Benjamin replied.

"To have won the praise of nations, to have won the crown of fame," Rabbi Solomon responded, faithful to his kingly name.

"To sit throned, the lord of millions, first and noblest in the land," Answered haughty Rabbi Asher, youngest of the reverend band.

"All in vain," said Rabbi Jarius, "unless faith and hope have traced In the soul Mosaic precepts, by sin's contact uneffaced."

Then uprose wise Rabbi Judah, tallest, gravest of them all:

"From the height of fame and honor

even valiant souls may fall; Love may fail us, virtue's sapling grow a dry and thorny rod,

If we bear not in our bosom the unselfish love of God."

In the outer court sat playing a sadfeatured, fair-haired child,

His young eyes seemed wells of sorrow -they were God-like when he smiled!

One by one he dropped the lilies, softly

plucked with childish hand;

One by one he viewed the sages, of that grave and hoary band;

Step by step he neared them closer, till

encircled by the seven,

Thus he said, in tones untrembling, with a smile that breathed of heaven: "Nay, nay, father! Only he, within the measure of whose breast Dwells the human love with God-love,

can have found life's truest rest; For where one is not, the other must grow stagnant at its spring; Changing good deeds into phantomsan unmeaning, soulless thing, He who holds this precept truly owns a jewel brighter far

Than the joys of home and children

than wealth, fame, and glory are; Fairer than old age, thrice honored far above tradition's law,

Pure as any radiant vision ever ancient prophet saw.

Only he within the measure-faith ap

portioned-of whose breast Throbs this brother-love with God-love, knows the depth of perfect rest." Wondering, gazed they at each other, once in silence, and no more: "He has spoken words of wisdom no

man ever spake before!" Calmly passing from their presence to

the fountain's rippling song, Stooped he to uplift the lilies strewn the scattered sprays among. Faintly stole the sounds of evening through the massive outer door Whitely lay the peace of moonlight on the temple's marble floor,