while an affecting scene takes place. Caru-datta's little son is brought by Maitreya to bid his father farewell, and the executioner permits him to approach. The boy can only say, "Father! Father!"

Caru-datta embraces him, and says:

What shall I give my son as a memento?
This sacred cord is all I can bestow;

It is an ornament of Brahmans, better

Than pearls or gold, the instrument by which
Worship is paid to gods and ancestors.

This take, my son, and wear it for my sake.

The child then, addressing the executioner, says: ---

Vile outcast, where are you leading my father?
Caru-datta -

Crowned with a garland, bearing on my shoulder
The fatal stake, and deep within my heart
Hiding my grief, I hasten to my grave
Like victim to the place of sacrifice.

Executioner-Call us not outcasts. All wicked men, and all who harm the good, are the only outcasts.

If you are not outcasts, then why do you kill my

Executioner-'Tis the king's order; we are not to blame.
Boy-Kill me instead, and let my father go.

Executioner-Rather, for such a speech live long, my boy.
Caru-datta [bursting into tears and embracing his child] -
a child's devoted love;

This is true wealth,

A wealth which rich and poor enjoy alike;

A balm to soothe an agitated heart,

Better than cooling sandal or Usira.

The child is of course removed, but another delay is caused by Sthavaraka, who drove Vasanta-sena to the garden, and who, as cognizant of the real facts, had been shut up by his guilty master, the king's brother-in-law. Sthavaraka, on hearing the noise of the procession on its way to the place of execution, contrives to escape from his prison, and, rushing towards the executioners, proclaims Caru-datta's innocence and his master's guilt. Unhappily, however, just at this juncture his master appears on the scene, and declares that his servant Sthavaraka, having been imprisoned for thieving, is unworthy of credit, and has made up this accusation out of spite and

desire for revenge. Notwithstanding, therefore, the servant's repeated asseverations, his statements are disbelieved, and his efforts to save Caru-datta prove ineffectual. The procession and crowd now move on to the cemetery, and Caru-datta's condition seems altogether hopeless, when just as he is led to the stake, and the executioners are about to perform their office, the Buddhist mendicant is seen forcing his way through the crowd, leading a woman, who cries out, "Hold! hold! I am the miserable creature for whose sake you are putting him to death." This, to the astonishment of every one, proves to be Vasanta-sena herself, resuscitated and restored to health, through the instrumentality of the mendicant. The executioners immediately release Caru-datta; and as the king's brother-in-law, in utter confusion and terror, is observed to be making off, they attempt to seize him. He appears likely to be torn to pieces by the infuriated crowd; but here Caru-datta gives a crowning evidence of the generosity of his character, by protecting the villain who had come to feast his eyes on the dying agonies of his victim. He is actually, at Caru-datta's intercession, permitted to make his escape. The play ends in the elevation of Caru-datta to rank and honor, in the happiness of both hero and heroine, and in the promotion of the mendicant to the headship of all the Viharas or Buddhist monasteries.

TUBAL CAIN.

BY CHARLES MACKAY.

OLD Tubal Cain was a man of might,
In the days when earth was young;
By the fierce red light of his furnace bright,
The strokes of his hammer rung;

And he lifted high his brawny hand

On the iron glowing clear,

Till the sparks rushed out in scarlet showers,
As he fashioned the sword and the spear.
And he sang: "Hurrah for my handiwork!
Hurrah for the spear and the sword!

Hurrah for the hand that shall wield them well,
For he shall be king and lord."

To Tubal Cain came many a one,

As he wrought by his roaring fire,

And each one prayed for a strong steel blade
As the crown of his desire:

And he made them weapons sharp and strong,
Till they shouted loud for glee,
And gave him gifts of pearl and gold,

And spoils of the forest free.

And they sang: "Hurrah for Tubal Cain,
Who hath given us strength anew!
Hurrah for the smith, hurrah for the fire,
And hurrah for the metal true!"

But a sudden change came o'er his heart,
Ere the setting of the sun,

And Tubal Cain was filled with pain
For the evil he had done;

He saw that men, with rage and hate,

Made war upon their kind,

That the land was red with the blood they shed,

In their lust for carnage blind.

And he said: "Alas! that ever I made,

Or that skill of mine should plan,

The spear and the sword for men whose joy

Is to slay their fellow-man!"

And for many a day old Tubal Cain

Sat brooding o'er his woe;

And his hand forbore to smite the ore,
And his furnace smoldered low.

But he rose at last with a cheerful face,

And a bright courageous eye,

And bared his strong right arm for work,

While the quick flames mounted high.

And he sang: "Hurrah for my handiwork!"

And the red sparks lit the air;

"Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made"

And he fashioned the first plowshare.

And men, taught wisdom from the past,

In friendship joined their hands,

Hung the sword in the hall, the spear on the wall,

And plowed the willing lands;

To him our praise shall be.

But while oppression lifts its head,
Or a tyrant would be lord,

Though we may thank him for the plow,
We'll not forget the sword!"

THE PRINCESS OF THE MADRAS.

(SAVITRI AND SATYAVAN.)

(From the Mahābhārata: translated by Protap Chandra Roy.)

THERE was a king among the Madras who was virtuous and highly pious. And he was the foremost of givers, and was able, and was beloved by both the citizens and the rural population. And the name of that Lord of Earth was Açwapati. And that forgiving monarch of truthful speech and subdued senses was without offspring. And when he got old, he was stricken with grief at this. And that best of kings, daily offering ten thousand oblations to the Fire, recited hymns in honor of Savitri, the wife of Brahmā, and ate temperately at the sixth hour. And at the end of eighteen years, Savitri appeared unto him and said: Through the favor granted by the Self-create, there shall speedily be born unto thee a daughter of great energy. It behooveth thee to make no reply. Well pleased, I tell thee this at the command of the Great Father!"

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And Savitri vanishing away, the monarch entered his own city. And when some time had elapsed, that king observant of vows begat offspring on his eldest queen engaged in the practice of virtue.

And when the time came, his wife brought forth a daughter furnished with lotuslike eyes. And as she had been bestowed with delight by the goddess Savitri by virtue of the oblations offered in honor of that goddess, both her father and the Brahmanas named her Savitri.

And the king's daughter grew up like unto Sri [the goddess of beauty] herself in embodied form. And in due time that damsel attained her puberty.

And beholding that maiden of slender waist and ample hips, and resembling a golden image, people thought: "Lo, we have received a goddess!"

And, overpowered by her energy, none could wed that girl of eyes like lotus leaves, and possessed of a burning splendor.

And it came to pass that once on the occasion of a holy day, having fasted and bathed her head, she presented herself before the family deity, and caused the Brahmanas to offer oblations with due rites before the sacrificial fire. And taking the flowers that had been offered to the god, that lady, beautiful as Sri herself, went to her high-souled sire. And having reverenced the feet of her father, that lady of exceeding grace, with joined hands, stood at the side of the king. And seeing his own daughter, resembling a celestial damsel and arrived at puberty, unsought by people, the king became sad.

And the king said :

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Daughter, the time for bestowing thee is come! Yet none asketh thee. Do thou, therefore, thyself seek for a husband equal to thee in qualities. That person who may be desired by the shall be notified to me by thee. Do thou choose for thy husband as thou listest. Do thou, O auspicious one, listen to the words I myself have heard from the twice-born ones: The father that doth not bestow his daughter cometh by disgrace. And the son who doth not protect his mother when her husband is dead also suffereth disgrace. Hearing these words, do thou engage thyself in search of a husband. Do thou act in such a way that we may not be censured by the gods!"

Having said these words to his daughter and his old counselors, he instructed the attendants to follow her, saying, "Go!"

Thereafter, bashfully bowing even down unto her father's feet, the meek maid went out without hesitation, in compliance with the words of her sire. And ascending a golden car, she went to the delightful asylums of the royal sages, accompanied by her father's royal counselors. There, worshiping the feet of the aged ones, she gradually began to roam over all the woods. Thus the king's daughter, distributing wealth in all sacred regions, ranged the various places belonging to the foremost of the twice-born ones.

Now on one occasion, when Açwapati, the Lord of the Madras, was seated with Narada, the celestial sage, in the midst of his court enjoyed in conversation, Savitri returned to her father's abode, after visiting various asylums and regions.

And beholding her father sitting with Narada, she worshiped both by bending down her head.