are scattered by the whirlblast, gleaming in the sunshine, while his nervous arm rose and fell like the hammer of doom, methought there passed before me a visible embodiment of the destroyer Azrael, or that one of the mighty ones of past ages had returned to carth to fight again the battles of their faith, and conquer, as they erst had done, the dogs and sons of dogs-be their graves defiled! -who deny the supremacy of Mahomet, and reverence not the holy symbol of a religion old and imperishable as the stars; yes,

-Looked he not then like those heroes of old,—

Like KHULED the valiant, the favoured of God;
Like ANTAR, the slave-king, the wise and the bold,
Of whose deeds we're in legends and chronicles told;
Or ALI, who made even hosts at his nod,

Fly as antelopes when they the tiger behold?'

"How far the fervour of the religious enthusiast would have borne bim, it is impossible to say, for the silver voice of Zadie broke in, as he was denouncing in tones of deepest wrath curses upon the heads of the infidels, and dooming them all to eternal torture in the gloomy hall of Eblis. But tell me, is he safe?' she cried, somewhat impatiently; 'sent he no message, no token of remembrance? What think ye of the war? will it have a speedy and successful termination?'

nance;

"Maiden,' the santon answered, his look of stern displeasure, caused by the interruption, gradually softening to one of a more benign character as he gazed on her beautiful and earnest counte'thou askest of the end and issue of the war, is it not in the hands of destiny? How can we sightless mortals pierce the veil which hangs before the future?-how tell the designs of the great Arbiter of all things? It is a wise ordination by which coming events, whether of evil or of good, are hidden, and we should not attempt to pry into the secrets of the Inscrutable. But I preach to unwilling ears. Well then, as far as hnman reason and understanding may judge, the issue of the contest is no longer doubtful, and soon will thy lover return, bearing the laurels he so well deserves The Christians are dispirited and faint, their treasures and their strength alike exhausted, their braver spirits seek the mountain fastnesses, while the timid and crouching tarry in the plains and cities, to become hewers of wood and drawers of water to the conquering children of the only true faith.'

to wear.

"Well pleased was the old Emir to hear such tidings of his adopted son, and of the holy cause in which he was engaged; carnestly

did he and Zadie, who hung on his words as though they possessed a fateful charm, entreat the santon to tarry awhile with them ere he proceeded on his pilgrimage. But it was of no avail; he had vowed to press with his lips the sacred shrine once more before he died, and he hastened to fulfil his vow while strength remained to him. He passed like a dream, but to Zadie it was a dream of gladness; and she cherished the bright images with which it was fraught, and awaited with renewed hope the return of her warrior from his toils and dangers. Yet a few more days of anxious expectancy, yet a few more nights of broken slumbers, and then-what then? music and sunshine without discord or shadowing cloud, peace and felicity, life-long and unbroken-life-long, did I say? eternal! stretching onward into a state of beatified existence of imperishable beauty and everlasting happiness. Young hearts! young hearts! what happy self-deceivers ye are; to you the promises of hope seem prophecies certain of fulfilment; to you the voice of joyous anticipation sounds like an oracle, and to you the hollow specialities of life appear veritable realities; thornless are the flowers wherewith ye deck the dwellings of the future, and in the Circean cup of pleasure sparkling ready for your lips ye suspect not that at the bottom may lurk poisonous dregs. Ye dream not that the golden bowl which hangs by the fountain of existence may be broken, or that the silver chain may drop link by link till nought remains whereby ye may cling and fancy yourselves secure. Young hearts! young hearts! ye are happy self-deceivers !

"Another year had slowly passed away, and the heart of the watchers again began to grow weary and desponding, when one evening the desert scouts brought in the joyful intelligence of the advance of a party of horsemen, whose banners and equipments plainly might be distinguished as those of their friends. Soon was there a congregating at the entrance of the valley of yearning hearts eager for the long denied embrace of love and kindly greeting of friendship. The level rays of the declining sun flashed on the silver crescent, borne in the van of the party, and the green embroidered gonfalon which floated beneath it spread out its folds to the evening breeze, while ever and anon the trumpets gave forth their triumphant peals, and the tambour sent across the waste its deep reverberating boom. Soon shouts rang through the rocky defile, and the clash of arms meeting in mimic warfare; and swift horsemen dashed here and there in all the madness of joy, now bounding forward with the velocity of an arrow-now pausing suddenly as smitten

by the finger of destiny, while joy beamed on every swarthy face, and every dark eye flashed with intense excitement. Ere long, however, some of the bright eyes of those who had watched and waited were dimined by tears, and then smiling faces wore a look of settled grief and melancholy, as they became aware of the absence of husband or father, brother, lover, or friend, who had fallen in the war. Ever is it thus with earthly triumphing and joy; the shadow of the death-angel is cast on some portions of the pageant, and the sound of wailing comes like a dirge-note, between the swelling peals of gladness."

Here Gonzales paused, and looked smilingly around on his attentive auditory, then singling out a beautiful maiden, who reclined by the side of her lover, a vine-dresser from the neighbouring hills, whose muscular arm, bared to the shoulder, encircled her waist, he continued, "Fair Inez there is longing to hear of the passionate words and the love-beaming looks which passed between the youthful couple after their long estrangement-of the bridal dresses, and the festivities attendant on the happy occasion; but I must leave them all to her imagination, having reached the point at which my tale concludes. Suffice it that Zadie and Hassan were wedded, and that they enjoyed a long life of uninterrupted prosperity. That the old Emir lived to dance upon his knee a miniature copy of his heroic son, and then departed peacefully, blessing Alla for the fulfilment of his dearest wishes. Listeners, my tale is told.

H. G. ADAMS.

Note.-Mr. Adams is not a student of King's College. In consequence of the accumulation of contributions from the pens of gentlemen who are, he will pardon us if, with this tale, we conclude his series.-ED. K. C. M.

THE POET'S CHARACTER.

Oh, concede and give pleasures to the poet : as poems he restores them to you in a living form; he enjoys the flowers only to diffuse their sweets; for he is like the bee, that, from the blossoms out of which it sips its nectar, carries away the golden dust to sow upon the world fresh flowers. Let him fly to fair Italy, he will bring it back upon his wings as a hanging garden of sweet poesy.Jean Paul.

The lyric poem is the chorus in the drama of life-the world. The lyric poets are a chorus formed from a lovely union of youth and age, joy, sympathy, and wisdom.-Novalis.

LOVE AND WISDOM.

"I'LL move the Earth!" cried a sage of old,
With his puny powers grown boastful and bold;
"Yield but a spot whereupon I may stand,

And I'll move the Earth with my own right hand!"

Love heard the vaunt,-never wondrous deed

Has been named whose wonders Love could not exceed,
And he cried, "Be the spot I desire my gift,
And this lump of cold Earth into Heaven I'll lift!"

Folly lurked in the cession that Wisdom required,

For she named not, she knew not, the spot she desired—
But Love, the abode that he sought had found,

And in Celia's heart was his vantage ground.

Could Love gain only a footing there,

This Earth up to Heaven right soon he would bear,

Till he who rested on Celia's heart

Blest Earth from high Heaven no longer might part.

But the sage plods on, over Earth,-over Earth,
And his dreams die in air, whence they drew their birth;
And Love, though he striveth, still striveth in vain
His abode in fair Celia's heart to obtain.

Yet though Wisdom craved for a spot unknown,
For want of an object she failed alone ;-
The ground she demanded had Wisdom but seen,
She had bent it, from Earth, to her will, I ween.

And is Love then, so vain of his might, become weak,
Cannot Love rule and compass the heart he shall seek?
Ah!-To nought upon Earth can he power impart
To move or to touch cruel Celia's heart!

NIGHT AND MORNING.

"Swiftly walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night!

Out of the misty eastern cave,

Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wooest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear,-
Swift be thy flight."

IT is night; the time that God hath blest; that he hath sent man for his rest after the toils of the day. It is a holy time the night, there is no more of the turmoil and the trouble of the busy day; all is peace and stillness. And when the last "Good night" has been said, and the chamber door is shut, and the knees have bended and the hands folded in prayer to the God to whom the darkness is as the light; when the head is laid upon the pillow, and the holy angel of slumber hath waved its dark wings over it; then often doth the hushed spirit hold communings with beings from another world, which in that holy and silent hour visit the earth, and, as dreams, whisper to its habitants tales of their own land. In sleep too, when the wearied body is laid to rest, the spirit is often, as it were, set free to wander as it will; and then may the spirits of those who, though far parted, are one in heart, meet in that still hour, to tell each other their tale of faith and constancy. To such a night there cometh a morning of renewed strength and gladdened heart, and man ariseth and goeth forth to his task with a cheerful spirit.

It is night, the night of watching; and untiring Love draweth near the couch of anguish, to smooth the pillow for the aching head that knoweth not the ministering hand, to watch the pains it cannot alleviate. How slowly and heavily pass the dark and lonely hours, marked only by suffering and sorrow! How doth the worn spirit long for the morning, as if with the sunlight some beam of hope also must break upon the fainting heart! The morning cometh, the fever hath abated, and for the first time, perhaps, for days, the sufferer knoweth and blesseth the hand that hath tended him in his necessities. How blessed is that morning, when renewed hope shineth again upon the long darkened spirit!