THE POET'S (DANTE) WRATH.

Dante on one occasion left his house after dinner to go on some business. As he was passing he heard a smith, who was striking his anvil, and as he worked, sang some of our poet's verses, but mutilated and with additions and alterations. Dante said nothing, but approaching the workshop where the smith kept his tools, which he used in his trade, he seized the hammer and threw it across the street; he seized the tongs and threw them likewise. He seized the scales and threw them also, and so did to many of the tools.

The smith turning towards him in a brutal manner said, "What the deuce are you about, are you mad?"" Dante said, "What are you about?" "I am about my trade," said the smith, "and you spoil my tools by throwing them into the street." Says Dante, "If you do not wish me to spoil your things, do not spoil mine." "What do I spoil of yours?" cried the smith. Says Dante, "You sing songs out of my book, and not as I wrote them. I have no other trade, and you spoil it for me." The smith sang afterwards of other authors.

14. BRIGHT SIDE OF THINGS.

Look on the bright side. It is the right side. The times may be hard, but it will make them no easier to wear a gloomy and sad countenance. It is the sunshine, and not the cloud, that makes a flower. There is always that before and around us, which should cheer and fill the heart with warmth.

The habit of looking at the bright side of things is worth more than a thousand a year.

-JOHNSON.

Sun-dials only mark the bright hours-would it not be well if most people imitated them?

Some people persist in seeing a cloud to every silver lining.

Oh! call it not folly, you libel good spirits,

He surely is wisest whose heart is most gay; Who looks on mankind but to find out the merits Of those who may chance to be thrown in his way.

I know that you think me a volatile being,

In truth I am more apt to hope than to fear;
And why should I darken the present, for seeing
A far distant cloud, which may never come near?

Oh! if it be folly, why should you endeavour
To end a delusion so happy for me;
Ne'er teach me your wisdom, but suffer me ever
To search out the bright side of all that I see.

Why tell me how changing is woman's affection,
Why tell me how fleeting the friendship of man;
Both please me, and therefore I see no objection
To think them faithful-as long as I can.
-T. HAYNES BAYLY.

I

Oh talk no more of sorrow past,

You taint the present too,
And even I shall dream at last

Of future ills like you.
Wher'er my path, I ever took

Fair hope to be my guide,
Whate'er my fate, I ever look
Upon the brightest side.

II

The darkest cloud that visits earth

Not oft survives the day;

I'm ever first to sally forth
To meet sunbeams half way.
The only long liv'd grief must be
A grief that's born of sin;

But virtue soon cheers up, for she

Has sunny thoughts within.

-T. HAYNES BAYLY.

ZAAAAS

15. BUDDHA.

HE AND HIS FATHER.

While the new teacher was laying the foundations of his order, and experiencing first the devotion and then the attacks of the multitude, his relations at Kapilavastu had not remained ignorant of the change in his life; and Shuddhodana (his father) had sent to him asking him to visit his native city, that his now aged father might see him once more before he died. Gautama, accordingly, started for Kapilavastu; and on his arrival there stopped, according to his custom, in a grove outside the town. There his father, uncles and others came to see him; but the latter at least were by no means pleased with their mendicant clansman; and though it was the custom on such occasions to offer to provide ascetics with their daily food, they all left without having done so. The next day, therefore, Gautama set out accompanied by his disciples, carrying his bowl to beg for a meal. As he came near the gate of the little town, he hesitated whether he should not go straight to the Raja's residence, but at last he determined to adhere to a rule of the Order, according to which a Buddhist mendicant should beg regularly from house to house. It soon reached the Râjâ's ears that his son was walking through the streets begging. Startled at such news, he rose up, and holding his outer robe together with his hand, went out quickly, and hastening to the place where Gautama was he said, 'Why, master, do you put us to shame? Why do you go begging for your food? Do you think it is not possible to provide food for so many mendicants ?"

"Oh, Mahârâjâ,

99

was the reply, "this is the cus

tom of all our race."

"But we are descended from an illustrious race of warriors, and not one of them has ever begged his bread."

"You and your family," answered Gautama, "may claim descent from Kings; my descent is from the prophets (Buddhas) of old, and they, begging their food, have always lived on alms. But, my father, when a man has found a hidden treasure, it is his duty first to present his father with the most precious of the jewels: and he accordingly addressed his father on the cardinal tenet of his doctrine, his words being reported in the form of two verses in the Dhammapada :

"Rise up, loiter not!

Follow after a holy life!

Who follows virtue rests in bliss,
Both in this world and in the next.

Follow after a holy life!

Follow not after sin !

Who follows virtue rests in bliss,

Both in this world and in the next."

Shuddhodana made no reply to this, but simply taking his son's bowl, led him to his house, where the members of the family and servants of the household came to do him honour, but his wife Yashodharâ did not "If I am of any value in his eyes, he will himself come," she had said; "I can welcome him better here." Gautama noticed her absence, and attended by two of his disciples went to the place where she was.

come.

When she saw him enter, a recluse in yellow robes with shaven head and shaven face, though she uld be so, she could not contain herself, and the ground she held him by the feet and