Was he holy Brahman, or Yogi, or chief of the Rajpût line, Whose urn rests here by the river, in the shade of the beautiful shrine?"

May it please you," quoth Vittoo, salaaming, "Protector of all the poor!

It was not for holy Brahman they carved that delicate door, Nor for Yogi, nor Rajpût Rana, built they this gem of our

land;

But to tell of a Rajpût woman, as long as the stones should stand.

"Her name was Môti, the pearl-name; 'twas far in the ancient times;

But her moon-like face and her teeth of pearl are sung of still in our rhymes;

And because she was young, and comely, and of good repute, and bad laid

A babe in the arms of her husband, the palace-nurse she was made:

"For the sweet chief-queen of the Rana in Joudhpore city had died,

Leaving a motherless infant, the heir to that race of pride; The heir of the peacock-banner, of the five-colored flag, of the throne

Which traces its record of glory from days when it ruled alone;

"From times when, forth from the sunlight, the first of our kings came down

And had the earth for his footstool, and wore the stars for his crown,

As all good Rajpûts have told us; so Môti was proud and

true,

With the Prince of the land on her bosom, and her own brown baby too.

"And the Rajpût women will have it (I know not myself of these things)

As the two babes lay on her lap there, her lord's and the Joudhpore King's,

So loyal was the blood of her body, so fast the faith of her

heart,

It passed to her new-born infant, who took of her trust its

part.

"He would not suck of the breast-milk till the Prince had

drunken his fill;

He would not sleep to the cradle-song till the Prince was lulled and still;

And he lay at night with his small arms clasped round the Rana's child,

As if those hands like the rose-leaf could shelter from treason wild.

"For treason was wild in the country, and villainous men had sought

The life of the heir of the gadi, to the palace in secret brought; With bribes to the base, and with knife-thrusts for the faithful, they made their way

Through the line of the guards, and the gateways, to the hall where the women lay.

"There Môti, the foster-mother, sat singing the children to rest,

Her baby at play on her crossed knees, and the King's son held to her breast;

And the dark slave-maidens around her beat low on the cymbal's skin,

Keeping the time of her soft song-when-sudden-there hurried in

"A breathless watcher, who whispered, with horror in eyes and face:

'Oh! Môti! men come to murder my Lord, the Prince in this place!

They have bought the help of the gate-guards, or slaughtered them unawares,

Hark! that is the noise of their tulwars, the clatter upon the stairs!'

"For one breath she caught her baby from her lap to her heart, and let

The King's child sink from her nipple, with lips still clinging and wet,

Then tore from the Prince his head-cloth, and the putta of pearls from his waist,

And bound the belt on her infant, and the cap on his brows, in haste;

"And laid her own dear offspring, her flesh and blood, on

the floor,

With the girdle of pearls around him, and the cap that the King's son wore;

While close to her heart, which was breaking, she folded the Raja's joy,

And-even as the murderers lifted the purdah-she fled with his boy.

"But there (so they deemed) in his jewels, lay the Chota

Rana, the heir;

"The cow with two calves has escaped us,' cried one, ‘it is right and fair

She should save her own butcha; no matter; the edge of the dagger ends

This spark of Lord Raghoba's sunlight; stab thrice and four imes, O friends!'

"And the Rajpût women will have it (I know not if this can be so)

That Môti's son in the putta and golden cap cooed low, When the sharp blades met in his small heart, with never one moan or wince,

But died with a babe's light laughter, because he died for his Prince.

"Thereby did that Rajpût mother preserve the line of our Kings."

"Oh! Vittoo," I said, "but they gave her much gold and beautiful things,

And garments, and land for her people, and a home in the Palace! May be

She had grown to love that Princeling even more than the child on her knee."

66

May it please the Presence!" quoth Vittoo, "it seemcd not so! they gave

The gold and the garments and jewels, as much as the proudest would have;

But the same night deep in her true heart she buried a knife, and smiled,

Saying this: I have saved my Rana! I must go to suckle my child!'"

HER WEDDING.

I kissed the bride; while the other men

Uncertain stood as if in doubt

Whether my act to imitate or go without.
As playmate, friend and lover, I

Had worshiped at her shrine, and now

I stood a witness of her pledge and marriage vow.

Others had loved her, too; not I

Alone had found her fair; but she

Could love and wed but one-and so you see,

The rivals heard the dainty lips

We longed to press, with solemn voice,

Pronounce the name of him who was her sweetheart's

choice.

I kissed the bride; a happy man

And proud; the proudest in that room,

I ween, and that with reason. Was I not the groom?

QUEEN VASHTI.-T. DEWITT TALMAGE.

We stand amid the palaces of Shushan. The pinnacles are aflame with the morning light. The columns rise festooned and wreathed, the wealth of empires flashing from the grooves; the ceilings adorned with images of bird and beast, and scenes of prowess and conquest. The walls are hung with shields, and emblazoned until it seems that the whole round of splendors is exhausted. Each arch is a mighty leap of architectural achievement, golden stars, shining down on glowing arabesque ; hangings of embroidered work, in which mingle the blueness of the sky, the greenness of the grass and the whiteness of the sea foam; tapestries hung on silver rings, wedding together the pillars of marble. Pavilions reach out in every direction,-these for repose, filled with luxuriant couches, in which weary limbs sink until all fatigue is submerged; these for carousal, where kings drink down a kingdom at one swallow.

Amazing spectacle! Light of silver dripping down over stairs of ivory on shields of gold; floors of stained marble, sunset red and night black, and inlaid with gleaming pearl. Why, it seems as if a heavenly vision of amethyst, and jacinth, and topaz, and chrysoprasus had descended and alighted upon Shushan. It seems as if a billow of celestial glory had dashed clear over heaven's battlements upon this metropolis of Persia.

In connection with this palace there is a garden, where the mighty men of foreign lands are seated at a banquet. Under the spread of oak, and linden, and acacia, the tables are arranged. The breath of honeysuckle and frankincense fills the air. Fountains leap up into the light, the spray struck through with rainbows falling in crystalline baptism upon flowering shrubs-then rolling down through channels of marble, and widening out here and there into pools swirling with the finny tribes of foreign aquariums, bordered with scarlet anemones, hy

pericums, and many colored ranunculus; meats of rarest bird and beast smoking up amid wreaths of aromatics; the vases filled with apricots and almonds; the basket piled up with apricots, and dates, and figs, and oranges, and pomegranates; melons tastefully twined with leaves of acacia; the bright waters of Eulæus filling the urns, and sweating outside the rim in flashing beads amid the traceries; wine from the royal vats of Ispahan and Shiraz, in bottles of tinged shell, and lily shaped cups of silver, and flagons and tankards of solid gold.

The music rises higher, and the revelry breaks out into wilder transport, and the wine has flushed the cheek and touched the brain, and louder than all other voices are the hiccough of the inebriates, the gabble of fools, and the song of the drunkards.

In another part of the palace Queen Vashti is entertaining the princesses of Persia at a banquet. Drunken Ahasuerus says to his servants: "Go out and fetch Vashti from that banquet with the women, and bring her to this banquet with the men, and let me display her beauty." The servants immediately start to obey the king's com mand, but there was a rule in Oriental society that no woman might appear in public without having her face veiled. Yet here was a mandate that no one dare dispute, demanding that Vashti come in unveiled before the multitude. However, there was in Vashti's soul a principle more regal than Ahasuerus, more brilliant than the gold of Shushan, of more wealth than the revenue of Persia, which commanded her to disobey the order of the King; and so all the righteousness and holiness and modesty. of her nature rises up into one sublime refusal. She says: I will not go into the banquet unveiled." Of course, Ahasuerus was infuriated; and Vashti, robbed of her position and her estate, is driven forth in poverty and ruin to suffer the scorn of a nation, and yet to receive the applause of after generations, wno shall rise up to admire this martyr to kingly insolence.