dirty and haggard, crying, "Alms, good people, or I die of hunger."

The attendants would have driven him off, but the prince had seen and heard. "What means this?" he asked his charioteer. "Why is the man so thin and weak? What does he mean, 'give alms, or I die of hunger'?"

And the charioteer answered: "The man is eighty years old, time has taken his strength, and now he cannot work to earn his bread. He is dying of want and hunger." Siddartha's face and heart were clouded with infinite pity, and he asked, "Will the years bring us all to this?"

"Yea," said Channa, "if we live thus long."

Then spoke the prince: "Turn back, and drive me home. I have seen what I did not think to see.' The joy went out of Siddartha's life. Music and dancing lost their enchantment.

That night was sleepless for him, and he brooded continually. The king was angry, for he saw his plan to keep the prince on his throne was slipping away. He doubled the guard over the pleasure-prison, but without avail.

Siddartha must go again to the city beyond the palace gates. With redoubled earnestness the king and his subjects tried to prepare the way, so the prince should see none of the evils. or sorrows of life, but they were not successful. As they passed by the roadside a man was stricken with the plague and called out: "Good masters, help me to my home ere I die. Oh, the pain! the pain!"

and took the plaguetender pity he asked, Then he learned from

Siddartha sprang from his chariot, stricken man in his arms, while with "Brother, what is wrong with thee?" his charioteer that he was afflicted with a terrible disease. "Are many thus afflicted?" he asks. replies, "many suffer, and all fear it.” "And do all men live in fear?" he asks.

And Channa answers, "Yes, my lord."

"Yea, my lord," he

"And what comes if they are not able to bear the weakness of age and the pain of disease?"

"They die, my lord."

"Die ?"

"Yea, and there comes death."

And, looking toward the river, he sees a funeral procession, with people wailing over their lost one.

Then Siddartha with a divine pity turned his weeping eyes to heaven, and said: "O suffering world, I feel thy woe, and I come to conquer it. No more for me the pleasure of home and family. I must travel the weary road to learn the way of salvation. The veil is rent. I am like all men. I would have nothing that all may not have. I would take the world with its sorrow and pain to my bosom."

Then he went back to his pleasure-prison, but not to stay, for now he felt the world calling to him to bring it deliverance, and he heeded the call.

He gave up his kingdom, and became a beggar.

XX. Savitri.

Love Stronger than Death.

Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee the crown of life.REVELATION ii. 10.

Who hath not learned in hours of faith
The truth to flesh and sense unknown,
That life is ever lord of death,

And love can never lose its own.

Whittier.

Savitri was a beautiful princess of India, who was as good as she was beautiful. When she was eighteen years old, her parents thought it was time for her to marry.

Before she chose a husband, however, she asked that she might go on a pilgrimage, in the hope that, having prayed in many sacred places, God might direct her in the choice she must make.

So she set out with a long train of men, elephants, and camels for the holy places of India.

One day, as her company was passing through a forest, she saw through the curtain of her litter a tall, handsome youth with an axe on his shoulder. As soon as she saw him, she loved him, and felt that he must be her future husband.

He was only a poor wood-chopper, but she declared him to be her choice to the king, her father.

When, however, the holy prophet Narada heard of it, he exclaimed, "Oh, no! that can never be."

"Why not?" said the king, "though Satyavan is only a forester, my daughter has wealth enough for both."

"It is not that," said the prophet; "but, if Savitri weds this man, she will certainly be a widow at the end of a year. Satyavan is under a curse, and twelve months from now he is doomed to die."

But even such sad news as this did not shake the love of the pious maiden.

"It is sad to be a widow," she said, "but, having loved Satyavan, I must face whatever comes to me."

And so the beautiful princess and the poor forester were married. The fire was called to witness their union, an iron ring was bound on Savitri's left wrist. They both walked seven times around the sacred fire while the people prayed and wished them all the blessings of life.

As soon as they were married, Savitri found that her husband was a prince whose father was a blind king, who had through misfortune lost his kingdom.

They lived in a great forest with Satyavan's father and mother, and were very happy for a year, but Savitri could not forget the terrible end of their honeymoon which the wise man had predicted.

She felt that Yama, the angel of death, was one who never broke his word. As the year drew to an end, she fasted and prayed continually, hoping that perhaps in some way her vigils would give her power to see the angel of death, and plead with him for her husband's life.

On the fatal day she went with Satyavan into the woods, and watched him at his work, until suddenly he stopped, saying, "Oh, my head pains me," and he swooned at her feet. At that moment the devoted wife beheld a stately personage in black come out of the jungle, and Savitri knew at once that it was the angel of death.

Yama was surprised that she could see him, but he smiled at her, and said, "My errand is not for you, child." And he stooped down and grasped the body of Satyavan.

"Farewell," said Yama. "Grieve not for the dead." And away he went, carrying the soul of her beloved husband. But Savitri would not give up so easily. She followed after him, and pleaded with Yama to spare his life.

Savitri," said Yama, "you are a good woman, so ask of me anything except the life of Satyavan, and it shall be yours." Savitri thanked him, and said, "Give sight to my fatherin-law." "Easily granted," said the angel of death. "Now good-bye. Go back home. This is no place for you."

But still she followed him over a long and perilous way.

The forest grew denser and darker, the thorns tore her clothing and her flesh.

Yama tried to throw her off the trail, but he could not, so he stopped, and said,

"Another wish shall be yours, my child, for your faithfulness, but then you must leave me.'

Savitri knew no fear, so she said, "Give back to my fatherin-law his wealth and his kingdom."

"It is yours," said Yama, "but now return."

But still she followed in a most perilous way, up hill and down, through dark caves and deep ravines. Do what he would, Yama could not escape her, so he stopped again.

"This time, Savitri, ask something for yourself. Anything but your husband's life you may have, but this is my last gift, and, when that is given, you shall see me no more.”

"Grant then," said the noble Savitri, "that I may have sons and daughters, and see their children happy before I die." Yama was pleased to think she had given up her quest and with such a gift was willing to go back.

"Of course, of course, that is a very pious wish. You shall have your desire."

At these words Savitri raised her head, and smiled. "Why are you smiling, child?" said Yama.

"Because, my lord," said Savitri, "a widow in India does not marry again."

The dread angel looked at her a moment in dismay. He saw he had been trapped. What was he to do? As god of death, it was hard for him to give up the soul of Satyavan, but he could not keep his promise to Savitri without giving back her husband.

So he laughed, and relented. "Peerless among women," he said. "It is a brave and loving heart that follows death even to the grave. You shall have your husband's life. The divine beings are glad to win defeat at the hands of mortals who wield the strong weapon of love. Thou art stronger than I. Good-bye."

An hour later, under the same tree where he had fainted, Satyavan awoke, and found himself lying with his head on