MARRYING A PERFECT BEAUTY.

his father had been buried according to the laws of the Sunnah, and the loneliness of his dwelling-place reminded him of Hadji's last words. "Alas, my father, you do not know what you have imposed upon me !"

Jousef sat and pondered for some time, and then he sighed, and then he rose mechanically, and sauntered into the streets of Beyrout. Jousef was a handsome youth, and looked beautiful and gallant, with his bright yellow slippers, his tunic of red velvet, his blue turban, his white cloak, and his orange-colored shawl. His small black moustaches were curled tastefully on his upper lip; and his beard was as short and crisp as ever was Ali's or Omer's. His form was not tall, nor commanding, like those of the viziers or captains of the Janissaries; but it was active, and strong, and firmly knit; and his eye shone like a jewel on the cheek of an Abyssinian slave. He seemed burdened and borne down now, however, and could scarcely drag himself along under the weight of his father's advice. At last he stood beside the beautiful trellis-work that surrounded the little garden of Mustapha the shoemaker, and, leaning on it in an abstracted mood, he gazed vacantly at the lovely flowers.

81

boughs to shade themselves in the green olives and althea-bushes, and to listen to the whistle and song of Mustapha.

In all Beyrout there was none that so loved the beautiful garden of the shoemaker as Jousef Ben Hadji. He loved it with a boyish reverence, for he had come, again and again, since boyhood, to gaze through and lean over that trellis; and to worship, with all his sense of the beautiful, those bright, blooming, blushing blossoms. It was the oasis of his dreams, the sun-spot of his life, the earthly beau-ideal which he had formed of his own everlasting bower in paradise.

Perhaps it was not the flowers, nor the hum of the bees, nor the plumes of the birds, nor the waving of the trees, nor the songs of Mustapha, that had brought young Jousef so often to look into that garden, and smile, and nod, and say pretty things. Perhaps his love was more human, more particular, more bewitching, more charming, more exalted, after all; and perhaps it was to gaze upon Lella Selma that he so often came. Lella Selma, however, was not a perfect beauty. The line of her face was broken by a disproportion of the brow, which was broad and lofty, and her form was neither tall nor imposing. Her hands were not smooth, and fair, and round, for Lella used garden hoes and rakes, and she dusted the divan, and carried water and firewood, as well as cooked victuals, so that Lella's hands were not allowed to hang up or lie useless, until they took the do-nothing's polish upon them. They were busy, active hands-a little hard from wearing, and a little out of joint from planting artichokes. Her feet were not as small and light as the gazelle's, but as large as women's are in general; nevertheless, she tripped along with an elastic, joyous step, and she became her red slippers right well. Lella Selma was working in her father's garden as Jousef leaned over the trellis, for she was the presiding peri who made its flowers to bloom fresher, and its dew shine brighter. It was she who trained the vines upon the walls of Mustapha's dwelling, and scattered the flower-seeds upon his garden-borders. The little fancy kiosk that stood in the centre of the little spot of ground was covered by a green screen of rapient plants, which she had trained to cling round it; and when she sat in the evenings and plied her needle, or hummed a vesper song, the scarlet-runners, and cresses, and vines, and sweet peas, would peep in at her from the little open windows, and they would fling upon her cheeks the shadow of their hues, and they would shed around her bosom the richness of their perfume. Lella Selma, however, was not perfectly

It must not be supposed that Mustapha was a horticulturist, or had any great taste for floral phenomena. He was more addicted to the taming of birds, the educating of kittens, and the developing of canine genius, than to the practice of botany. He might not, like the western knights of the awl, confine bird, or beast, or creeping thing in a prison cage, for the Koran forbade him to do so; but he could attach them to himself by the strong links of kindness, and he had neglected few opportunities of doing so, according to the custom of his craftsmen generally. Mustapha did not cultivate his little garden, but he chanted as lightly and sweetly almost as did the birds that sat in his althea-bushes, or perched themselves on his olive-trees; and he beat out his merry rap-tap in chorus to the song of the bulbul. Although Mustapha did not cultivate flowers, he possessed a little garden that was the glory of all the little gardens in Beyrout. An aroma floated over it more rich than that which streamed from the shop of Mahhi Eldin the scent-dealer; and the honey that the bees found in it must have been the sweetcst in Syria, for all the bees of Syria seemed to come and banquet on its flowers. They hummed round the graceful stems of the fragile bending plants, and dipped their heads into their bright chalices, and loaded their little feet with their finest pollen. And the brightwinged birds with their glancing plumage and their delicate limbs, came and perched upon its || beautiful. Jousef Ben Hadji, at one time, had

82

MARRYING A PERFECT BEAUTY.

tiful is Lella Selma!" and the flowers seemed to smile a response to the fragrant zephyr. The birds seemed to chant, "Most beautiful is Lella Selma !" and his heart beat back the echo of their song, although his step was towards the house of Hamil the coffee-vender, where all the wise men of the world of Beyrout came and smoked and communed.

Jousef entered the divan of Hamil with a beating heart, and well he might; for there sat twelve sages, with chaboques of most magnificent form, and beards like the snowy summits of Mount Atlas. Each sat upon his carpet crosslegged, and sucked the amber tip of his pipe, as if he had been inspiring wisdom from the fountains of translucent knowledge. Each was as grave as the goat of the prophet, and as wise as Haroun Al Raschid.

thought that she was not beautiful at all. When || winds seemed to whisper in his ear, "Most beauhe came first to gaze upon this garden, his heart was smitten with a sweet and overpowering sympathy, that dissolved it in a suffusion of love and gladness. "How beautiful must she be who presides here," sighed Jousef; "how lovely must be the maiden who will comport with this lovely little home of flowers!" How much disappointed Jousef was when Lella Selma passed before him with her basket in her hand to gather bouquets for Mustapha's divan! "She is not beautiful at all," said he, in a disappointed tone; and he would have passed on without gazing any morebut the voice of Lella Selma, sweeter than that of the bulbul, and clearer than the tones of a silver bell, fell upon his ear, and chained him to the spot. "How beautiful," he cried with enthusiasm, "is the voice of the maiden; how soft and thrilling are its tones !" Then, when he came to hear Lella Selma talk, and when he looked into her eyes-her deep, black, speaking, dove-like eyeshe wondered how he had ever thought her anything but beautiful, and he loved her as fondly as ever Hafiz had loved Zuleika. Still Jousefcould not divest himself of the sense that Lella was not perfectly beautiful, and yet he sometimes thought she was, as he fondly gazed on her face. "May my cinnamon and aloe-trees scatter incense on the sad heart of Jousef Ben Hadji!" said Lella, approaching the young man with a smile upon her face, full of the glories of the rising sun. "He is alone now, and his heart will be cold."

"Cold as the waters of the Levant," said Jousef, sighing, "when the winter moon dips her sil- ver hair at midnight in its font. My father has left me an injunction that shall preserve it in its coldness: I must not marry her who does not possess perfect beauty."

Lella bent her sweet eyes to the ground, and beat with her foot for a few seconds in silence. "Men always judge from what they see," she thought in herself, "and they never consider for a moment that the imperfection of their own senses may lead them astray in their judgment. Jousef Ben Hadji cannot see me; he only sees the outward form of me, and yet he is satisfied that I am not beautiful." Raising her eyes, Lella Selma said, in a sweet tone, "Then go, Jousef, and look for one according to the commands of thy father. Dear unto the heart of Allah are those who obey the voice of their parents in what is right. Go," she said, with a soft balmy sigh, "and may you prosper."

"Peace be to you, sage fathers!" said Jousef, as he bowed respectfully to the conclave of

smokers.

"It is here, my son," said Ran Tora, from the fair city of Teheran, waving his hand amongst the smoke that floated around them, "it is here." "I wish it were here also," replied Jousef, laying his hand on his heart.

"What troubleth thee, my son?" asked Hassan Keira.

" I must find, according to the dying injunction of my father, a wife perfectly beautiful; it is this which troubleth me," replied Jousef; "and I am come to ask you, wise fathers, where I shall find one such ?"

"Go to Stamboul," said Selim, the aged Turk, who dealt in carpets, and was esteemed the wisest of his nation in Beyrout; "it is only there that perfect beauty can be found."

"Pardon me!" cried Ran Tora; "but the maidens of Teheran and Samarcand are the fairest of the fair. Go to the East if you would find what you seek."

"The brown maidens of Abyssinia alone possess perfect beauty !" cried Ben Taoni, the trader in ostrich-feathers. "Their complexions have neither the ice of the north, the sickly hue of the east, nor the gloom of the dark southwest, and their soft rounded arms are of Allah's most charming and exquisite workmanship."

"Hush! hush!" said Indar Oku, with a smile of authority and satisfaction. "Who will compare the sunburned daughters of Ethiop, or the plumpy maidens of Stamboul, or the tiny damsels of Persia, to the loveliest girls of the Adighe and Georgia? The pachas of the east, west, north, and south, can only be satisfied that beauty

Jousef turned away, but still he could not forbear stopping, and casting many long lingering looks behind him towards Lella Selma. The f is perfect, when they have seen the tall supple

TO A WOOD AΝΕΜΟΝΕ.

TO A WOOD ANEMONE.

POLITENESS.

BY REV. E. F. HATFIELD.

"She moves with easy though with measured pace, And shows no part of study but the grace."

POLITENESS.

will always avail in the production of that gentility and agreeableness of manners which give such a charm to social intercourse.

85

prejudice, is after you have just received and treated him in a hospitable manner, as a friend." Such conduct is indescribably mean, and yet shamefully common. The child that is educated under such an influence is thus taught from his infancy to be a hypocrite and a backbiter; to give place to and cherish some of the vilest passions of the human heart; and systematically to exclude from his soul all that real kindness which is essential to true gentility.

It is the parent, then, who is to lay the foundation in this matter, as well as in all others. If the manners of the family at home are rude, vulgar, sensual, coarse, or clownish, such, in all probability, will be those of the little ones who there receive their first lessons of life. If the youthful scholars in this school seldom, if ever, perceive any attention paid to the ordinary rules of social courtesy in the domestic circle; if they observe nothing, or almost nothing, of the kind in the intercourse between the father and the mother; if the latter is slovenly in her person, and sensual in her conversation; if the former is rough in his carriage, or ill-natured in his address to either wife or child; if they are accustomed to indulge in language both vulgar and indecent, or in passionate expressions of their feelings in the presence of their children; if the husband and father, on his return from his daily toil, or a visit to some distant place, is received with far less attention, fewer smiles, and a less hearty | school, the art of dissociating his heart from his

welcome, than even the transient visitor; if, in short, there is no politeness at home, all the books in the world will not impart it to those who are trained under such influences.

But, let all this be reversed. Let the parents be as attentive to each other's wants and wishes as when the one was seeking the other's hand, and each intent on securing the affections of the other; as careful not to offend, in thought, word, look, or deed, and as studious of every act of endearment that can bind one heart to another; and let the whole of their daily history, not only in their intercourse with one another, but in the treatment of their children, be characterized by the same spirit of gentleness, forbearance and unaffected kindness, and that will be a home where every graceful plant will grow. The little ones whose tastes and tempers are there formed, will not disappoint the hopes of their first teachers. They will grow up to adorn as well as bless society. "Train up a child in the way he should go; and, when he is old, he will not depart from it."

In their treatment of visitors, also, parents cannot, for their children's sake, be too careful. Very often a marked contrast is observable in what is said to and of the neighbors and friends of the family. In vain do we show all proper attention and regard to them when present, if, when they have departed, we manifest a temper and disposition towards them the very opposite. It has been well said, that " of all others the most improper season to speak to any man's

How can it be otherwise? How can a child accustomed to hear his parent, just as soon as the door is closed upon the visitor to whom nothing but kindness, in the form of smiles and pleasant words, and agreeable attention has been exhibited, break forth in a tirade of reproach and scandal against the now absent intruder-how can he but look upon all politeness as hollow-hearted, as a trick by which to allure and deceive, and as utterly contemptible?

Yet such is the politeness, to a very great extent, of the fashionable world, and thus it is learned. The child early acquires, in such a

manners; the art of putting on an appearance of good-will when nothing of the kind is felt; the art of imposing, with vain words and treacherous courtesy, upon his best friends. And this lesson is most effectually practised. As years roll on, the child becomes a polished hypocrite and a most practised courtier.

It is such a training that makes the fashion of the world such a selfish, mean, and despicable matter. It is such a training that gives occasion for the following description from the hand of a master in the science of human nature:

"The courtesy of the world is an imposing form, a delusive shadow, an artificial mode or fashion which persons acquire under the discipline of their dancing-master. It is the art of adjusting the features of the face, and of managing the gestures of the body, independently of any corresponding affection of the heart; a grimace learned with some degree of difficulty, and for the most part awkwardly performed. It is a hollow, treacherous, unsound appearance; a 'bruised reed,' 'on which if a man lean, it will go into his hand and pierce it.' Indeed, so palpable is the imposture, that none but children and other credulous and unsuspecting persons, who, to use a familiar phrase, have seen nothing of the world, are at all deceived by it. Mankind in general perfectly well understand that nothing is really meant by the punctilious interchange of their civilities; and yet, strange as it may seem, almost every one will, at times, at least flatter himself that he plays