Day darkens, and uneasy Night must wake

'Neath her blue vault, new sown with baleful stars. And chains of Slav and Gaul spontaneous shake; As anciently at birth of Latin wars,

Eager their appetite for blood to slake,

Rome's weapons rattled in the fane of Mars.

THE SANDS OF TIME.

CAMEST thou from the desert or the sea,

April, 1891.

Slow-raining sand, whose lapse of gleaming brown
Stealeth the glassy horologe adown,

Arraying Time with visibility?

Helpmate in either hath he had in thee,

Tombing the pride of temple or of town,

Or withering with salt waste the herbless down,
As willed the varying wind's inconstancy.
Thou, joyless load on earth for ever laid,
Yet plaything of all breezes as they pass,
Recordest here what thou depictest well:
The thing like thee of streaming atoms made,
Singly a nothing, measureless in mass,
Mutation all, and yet unalterable!

JOY.

Joy is there made for all, transparent tide
Of earth-embathing air, sun's general light,
Sea, legioned stars, fields variously bright,
And in a common country common pride:
And joy to human multitudes denied,

But solitary meed of soul of might,
Pacing in lone content the silent height,
Save by his own thought unaccompanied:
Joy too, not made for many or for one,

Flashing, as when the flying iron rings
Sharp on smit stone beside the paven way,
As Love to Love in exultation springs:

As fades the star of morn in morning's sun,
All rosiest rapture to such joy is grey.

SONGS OF SION.

My harp upon the willows is not hung;
Else had I anguish, dreading to forget
The melody that soundeth sweetly yet,
Albeit in idle hearing idly sung.

Soul, if thou skillest aught of Sion's tongue,
The more thou chide at Babylon's vain fret,
The more thou Salem's strain must re-beget,
For Sion lives where Sion's lyre is strung.
To willowed brook or transitory breeze

Trust nothing; not on such impends the weight
Of duty on thyself divinely bound;
Thy Mother's songs, of old thy lullabies,
Not only to revere but renovate,
Not only to remember but resound.

THE DYER'S STORY.

BY W. B. HOCKLEY.

(From "Tales of the Zenana; or, A Nuwab's Leisure Hours.")

[WILLIAM B. HOCKLEY, author of the following striking story, was born in 1792, and at an early age became an Indian civil servant on the Bombay establishment. After a few years' service he was detected in receiving bribes, and was dismissed, receiving however a compassionate allowance. Returning to England, he betook himself to literature, and between 1825 and 1830 produced 'Pandurang Hari" and "Tales of the Zenana," which rank along with Meadows Taylor's as the best stories of Hindustan in English literature, until the appearance of Mr. Kipling. Other tales have been erroneously ascribed to him. He died about 1860.]

WHEN I parted from my friends Yasmin and Mohabet Ali I felt as if all attempts at obtaining riches without their aid must prove abortive, and my present condition shows how well-founded were my apprehensions. The first place I visited was Schiraz, where I hoped to obtain employment under the Governor's collectors. I tried in vain, by sundry well-written petitions, to bring myself to the notice of the Deewan or Vizier, then again to the secretary, to the treasurer, and to all junior scribes about court. This I soon found was only a waste of paper and time, without the least prospect of benefit, so I at last determined to apply to the secretary in person, although fully aware of the great difficulty in gaining access to him, knowing how little claim I had to his patronage.

I verily believe I might have waited until this moment at his door without seeing him. Rudely hustled by the guards and fortunate persons who enjoyed free ingress to his mansion, losing all patience, and convinced of my presumption in daring to expect that any of the proud men in power would

provide for me, I departed from the court, and enlisted as a common soldier. In this capacity I had no idle time; for, what with guarding the treasury all day and cleaning my horse in the evening, preparatory to the next day's duty, I was nearly sick of my military occupation, and was meditating desertion, although I had bound myself to serve two years, when the Buckshee, the paymaster of the troops, came to deliver our monthly stipend. Requiring someone to make memorandums and take accounts, his own clerk being accidentally absent, he enquired if there were anyone amongst us who could write. I stepped forward, offering my services, which were accepted.

So active was I in my new capacity, that the Buckshee offered to appoint me to the situation of clerk under him, which I joyfully acceded to. Following him into the districts, I assumed the airs and consequence of a gentleman, treating the poor soldiers with neglect and contempt; so that I became no great favourite amongst them, especially as I made it my practice to clip their pay and pocket the money myself. The Buckshee himself hesitated not to adopt this mode of enriching himself; and by having a good understanding with the officers and muster-master, whose list contained the proper number of men, but whose ranks told a very different tale, we all, from first to last, made a tolerable harvest.

The clerk whose place I had taken pro tempore returned; but the Buckshee, finding I was by far the shrewder fellow of the two, dispensed with his attendance, desiring him to remain at his office at headquarters until his return. I imagine I must have given a triumphant grin as the crestfallen clerk passed me, for he intuitively put his hand on the hilt of his dagger, stopping immediately opposite to me. said nothing, however, but walked away. There was, nevertheless, a diabolical expression of countenance on the man, which created in my bosom the most uncomfortable sensations, which his subsequent mysterious whisperings with the halfpaid soldiers by no means tended to alleviate.

He

I foresaw a storm was gathering; nevertheless the Buckshee proceeded with his wonted audacity and impudence to cut, clip, and pocket as many toomauns as he possibly could. "We shall all be ruined," said I to myself; "this infuriated clerk will doubtless inform the Governor of our shameful system of fraud and peculation, in which I have entered too

deeply to escape implication." Besides, I was well aware it was the invariable practice of the head of the department to lay all blame on his unhappy deputies; so that in all probability my eyes would be put out, or I should be subject to some dreadful punishment. The next time, therefore, I had an opportunity of fingering the cash I concealed as many toomauns around my body as I well could, and then decamped, leaving my master to answer both for his sins and my own.

I proceeded to a small town, where I procured a dye which stained my beard a light-brown colour, parted with my turban, and wore an Arab cap, so that it would have been a difficult matter to have recognized me. From Schiraz I somehow or other contrived to get to Bussorah; but not fancying myself quite far enough out of reach of the Schiraz governor, travelled on to Bagdad, where, soon after my arrival, I fell sick, and was conveyed by an Arab to his stables, where I was placed amongst the horses. When I recovered, what was my consternation at finding that my generous host, or his followers, having ridden me of my ill-gotten toomauns, had departed, leaving me again a beggar!

This was a pretty specimen of Arab hospitality, and I determined to take warning by it in future. To obtain a livelihood I served a merchant by filling all day bags of dates, which he daily dispatched into the interior. In Bagdad I could find no situation where my pen could advantageously be employed; and my labour was so heavy and constant, that I was entirely confined to the merchant's storehouses, without having a moment to spare to wander through the city. I thought myself, however, so very lucky in escaping the Schiraz governor, that I complained neither of my labour nor confinement.

My master one day fell sick, and in my anxiety to summon medical aid, no one being at that moment at hand, I ran about the city enquiring for a doctor. A shabby-looking fellow undertaking to conduct me to the abode of a clever physician, I followed him through narrow lanes and bye-streets, until we came to a lonely dwelling encompassed by a courtyard, the walls of which were built of coarse black granite, having a low door of solid iron. "Call aloud," said my conductor, "and someone will surely answer you."

Saying this he departed. I called aloud, and soon heard the rattling of chains and bolts, and the iron door grated on its

massy hinges. But how can I describe the being that opened it? So hideous a little dwarf, I verily believe, no man ever set eyes upon. He was about three feet in height, with a head suited to the largest giant; his hair hung about his shoulders in the wildest and most disorderly manner, whilst his beard appeared neatly trimmed and dressed. Two eyes he had, but one would have imagined they had belonged to some other person, and been only borrowed by their present possessorthey were extremely bright and small, though every other feature of his face was large, in proportion to the gigantic head in which they were situated.

One of the arms of this monster was shrivelled and withered, but the other, his right one, strong and muscular; his nose was flat, and his mouth reached from ear to ear, which, on opening, displayed a set of large but regular teeth, whose whiteness formed a striking contrast to the sable exterior of this disgusting monster.

"Well," thought I, "with all my misfortunes, I am not reduced to the necessity of residing with this hideous object." I informed him of the sickness of the merchant, desiring him, if the doctor resided within those walls, to summon him immediately. The dwarf bowed, and went into the house, from whence he soon returned, followed by a venerable old man, with a white silvery beard reaching nearly to his middle; his fair countenance indicated mildness and benevolence, and I was quite struck with his noble and dignified mien.

The doctor kindly embraced me, bidding me lead the way towards the sick man's abode. I did so, and rushed into his apartment with joy, to announce the doctor's approach. Around the sick man's couch stood his mother, his wife, and lovely daughter, with whom I had frequently conversed, and on whom I gazed with more than ordinary interest. Umbah (so was the girl named) looked sternly at me as I entered the room, and motioned me to retire, her father being asleep. I informed the doctor of the sick man's slumbers, when he assured me that that was the very time he wished to behold the patient; upon which, without consulting Umbah or the other attendants in the chamber of sickness, I opened the door, and seizing the hand of the doctor, led him into the room.

No sooner had the mourning relatives beheld my venerable physician then one and all uttered violent screams, covering their faces with their hands, loading me with abuse, and