LESSON II.

-THE SARACEN BROTHERS.

SALADIN-MALEK ADHEL-ATTENDANT.

Attendant. A stranger craves admittance to your highness.

Saladin. Whence comes he?

Attendant. That I know not.

Enveloped with a vestment of strange form,
His countenance is hidden; but his step,
His lofty port, his voice in vain disguised,
Proclaim-if that I dare pronounce it—
Saladin. Whom?

Attendant. Thy royal brother!

Saladin. Bring him instantly. [Exit Attendant.] Now, with his specious, smooth, persuasive tongue, Fraught with some wily subterfuge, he thinks

To dissipate my anger.

He shall die!

[Enter Attendant and Malek Adhel.] Leave us together. [Exit Attendant.] [Aside.] I should know that form. Now summon all thy fortitude, my soul,

Nor, though thy blood cry for him, spare the guilty!

[Aloud.] Well stranger, speak; but first unveil thyself,

For Saladin must view the form that fronts him.

Malek Adhel. Behold it, then!
Saladin. I see a traitor's visage.

Malek Adhel. A brother's!

Saladin. No!

Saladin owns no kindred with a villain.

Malek Adhel. Oh, patience, Heaven! Had any tongue but thine Uttered that word, it ne'er should speak another.

Saladin. And why not now? Can this heart be more pierced

By Malek Adhel's sword than by his deeds?
Oh, thou hast made a desert of this bosom !
For open candor, planted sly disguise;
For confidence, suspicion; and the glow
Of generous friendship, tenderness, and love,
Forever banished! Whither can I turn,
When he by blood, by gratitude, by faith,
By every tie, bound to support, forsakes me?
Who, who can stand, when Malek Adhel falls?
Henceforth I turn me from the sweets of love:
The smiles of friendship, and this glorious world,
In which all find some heart to rest upon,
Shall be to Saladin a cheerless void-
His brother has betrayed him!

Malek Adhel. Thou art softened;

I am thy brother, then; but late thou saidst-
My tongue can never utter the base title!

Saladin. Was it traitor? True!
Thou hast betrayed me in my fondest hopes!
Villain? 'Tis just; the title is appropriate!
Dissembler? "Tis not written in thy face;

No, nor imprinted on that specious brow;

But on this breaking heart the name is stamped,
Forever stamped, with that of Malek Adhel!

Thinkest thou I'm softened? By Mohammed! these hands
Shall crush these aching eyeballs ere a tear

Fall from them at thy fate! Oh monster, monster!
The brute that tears the infant from its nurse

Is excellent to thee; for in his form
The impulse of his nature may be read;
But thou, so beautiful, so proud, so noble,
Oh, what a wretch art thou! Oh, can a term
In all the various tongues of man be found
To match thy infamy?

Malek Adhel. Go on! go on!

'Tis but a little time to hear thee, Saladin; And, bursting at thy feet, this heart will prove Its penitence, at least.

Saladin. That were an end

Too noble for a traitor!

The bowstring is

A more appropriate finish! Thou shalt die!

Malek Adhel. And death were welcome at another's mandate! What, what have I to live for? Be it so,

If that, in all thy armies, can be found

An executing hand.

Saladin. Oh, doubt it not!

They're eager for the office. Perfidy,

So black as thine, effaces from their minds

All memory of thy former excellence.

Malek Adhel. Defer not, then, their wishes. Saladin,

If e'er this form was joyful to thy sight,

This voice seemed grateful to thine ear, accede

To my last prayer: Oh, lengthen not this scene,
To which the agonies of death were pleasing!
Let me die speedily!

Saladin. This very hour!

[Aside.] For oh! the more I look upon that face,
The more I hear the accents of that voice,
The monarch softens, and the judge is lost

In all the brother's weakness; yet such guilt-
Such vile ingratitude-it calls for vengeance;

And vengeance it shall have! What ho! who waits there?

To view the death of yonder bosom traitor.

And bid them mark, that he who will not spare

His brother when he errs, expects obedience

[Enter Attendant.]

Silent obedience-from his followers. [Exit Attendant.]

Malek Adhel. Now, Saladin,

The word is given; I have nothing more

To fear from thee, my brother. I am not
About to crave a miserable life.

Without thy love, thy honor, thy esteem,

Life were a burden to me. Think not, either,
The justness of thy sentence I would question,
But one request now trembles on my tongue-
One wish still clinging round the heart, which soon
Not even that shall torture-will it, then,
Thinkest thou, thy slumbers render quieter,
Thy waking thoughts more pleasing, to reflect,
That when thy voice had doomed a brother's death,
The last request which e'er was his to utter

Thy harshness made him carry to the grave?

Saladm. Speak, then; but ask thyself if thou hast reason To look for much indulgence here.

Malek Adhel. I have not;

Yet will I ask for it. We part forever;

This is our last farewell; the king is satisfied;
The judge has spoke the irrevocable sentence.

None sees, none hears, save that Omniscient Power,
Which, trust me, will not frown to look upon
Two brothers part like such. When, in the face
Of forces once my own, I'm led to death,
Then be thine eye unmoistened; let thy voice
Then speak my doom untrembling; then,
Unmoved, behold this stiff and blackened corse.
But now I ask-nay, turn not, Saladin-

I ask one single pressure of thy hand;

From that stern eye one solitary tear

Oh, torturing recollection!-one kind word

From the loved tongue which once breathed naught but kindness. Still silent? Brother! friend! beloved companion

Of all my youthful sports!—are they forgotten ?—

Strike me with deafness, make me blind, O Heaven!
Let me not see this unforgiving man

Smile at my agonies! nor hear that voice

Pronounce my doom, which would not say one word,
One little word, whose cherished memory
Would soothe the struggles of departing life!
Yet, yet thou wilt! Oh, turn thee, Saladin !

Look on my face-thou canst not spurn me then;
Look on the once-loved face of Malek Adhel

For the last time, and call him—

Saladin. [Seizing his hand.] Brother! brother!

Malek Adhel. [Breaking away.] Now call thy followers ; Death has not now

A single pang in store.

Proceed! I'm ready.

Saladin. Oh, art thou ready to forgive, my brother?

To pardon him who found one single error,

One little failing, 'mid a splendid throng

Of glorious qualities

Malek Adhel. Oh, stay thee, Saladin !

I did not ask for life. I only wished
To carry thy forgiveness to the grave.

No, emperor, the loss of Cæsarea

Cries loudly for the blood of Malek Adhel.
Thy soldiers, too, demand that he who lost

Q

What cost them many a weary hour to gain,
Should expiate his offenses with his life.
Lo! even now they crowd to view my death,
Thy just impartiality. I go!

Pleased by my fate to add one other leaf

To thy proud wreath of glory.

[Going.]

Saladin. Thou shalt not. [Enter Attendant.]

Attendant. My lord, the troops assembled by your order Tumultuous throng the courts. The prince's death

Not one of them but vows he will not suffer.

The mutes have fled; the very guards rebel.
Nor think I, in this city's spacious round,
Can e'er be found a hand to do the office.

Malek Adhel. Oh faithful friends! [To Attendant.] Thine shall.
Attendant. Mine? Never!

The other first shall lop it from the body.

Saladin. They teach the emperor his duty well.

Tell them he thanks them for it. Tell them, too,
That ere their opposition reached our ears,
Saladin had forgiven Malek Adhel.
Attendant. Oh joyful news!

I haste to gladden many a gallant heart,
And dry the tear on many a hardy cheek,
Unused to such a visitor. [Exit.]

Saladin. These men, the meanest in society,
The outcasts of the earth-by war, by nature,
Hardened, and rendered callous-these who claim
No kindred with thee-who have never heard
The accents of affection from thy lips-

Oh, these can cast aside their vowed allegiance,
Throw off their long obedience, risk their lives,
To save thee from destruction. While I,
I, who can not, in all my memory,

Call back one danger which thou hast not shared,
One day of grief, one night of revelry,

Which thy resistless kindness hath not soothed,
Or thy gay smile and converse rendered sweeter-

I, who have thrice in the ensanguined field,

When death seemed certain, only uttered-"Brother!"
And seen that form, like lightning, rush between
Saladin and his foes, and that brave breast

Dauntless exposed to many a furious blow

Intended for my own-I could forget

That 'twas to thee I owed the very breath

Which sentenced thee to perish! Oh, 'tis shameful!
Thou canst not pardon me!

Malek Adhel. By these tears I can!

Oh brother! from this very hour a new,

A glorious life commences! I am all thine!

Again the day of gladness or of anguish
Shall Malek Adhel share; and oft again
May this sword fence thee in the bloody field.
Henceforth, Saladin,

My heart, my soul, my sword, are thine forever!-New Monthly Mag.

LESSON III.-OUR COUNTRY AND OUR HOME.

THERE is a land, of every land the pride;
Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside;
Where brighter suns dispense serener light,
And milder moons emparadise the night;
A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth,
Time-tutored age, and love-exalted youth.
The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so beautiful and fair,
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air;

In every clime, the magnet of his soul,
Touched by remembrance, trembles to that pole;
For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace,
The heritage of Nature's noblest race,
There is a spot of earth supremely bless'd,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest,
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride,
While in his softened looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, father, friend.
Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife,
Strew with fresh flowers the narrow way of life;
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel-guard of loves and graces lie;
Around her knees domestic duties meet,
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet.

Where shall that land-that spot of earth be found"?
Art thou a man"?-a patriot'?-look around;
Oh! thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home.

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

LESSON IV. THE GIPSY FORTUNE-TELLER.

1. "HARK, my maiden, and I'll tell you,

By the power of my art,

All the things that e'er befell you,

And the secret of your heart.

2. "How that you love some one—

3.

—don't you' ?
Love him better than you say;

Won't you hear, my maiden, won't you'?
What's to be your wedding-day' ?"

Ah, you cheat, with words of honey,
You tell stories, that you know!

Where's the husband for my money
That I gave you long ago'?