SIR EDWIN ARNOLD.

EW men have realized with greater directness

scholarly litterateur, Sir Edwin Arnold, C.S.I. Born in the early summer of 1832, the second son of Mr. Robert Coles Arnold, J. P., of Kent and Sussex, he was educated at King Henry the Eighth's School, Rochester, and at King's College, London, being elected subsequently to a scholarship at the University College, Oxford, where, in his twentieth year, he gained the Newdigate Prize for his English poem, "The Feast of Belshazzar." His literary aims were high, and each year brought with it the attainment of new hopes, as it never failed also to record fresh advances in a career already bright and full of brilliant promise. In 1853 he was selected to address the late Earl of Derby on his installation as Chancellor of the University. In 1854 he graduated in honors. The year following found him in the temporary but responsible position of Second Master in the English division of King Edward the Sixth's School at Birmingham. And not long after, so great were his attainments, so many his parts, he was elected to the post of Principal at the Government Sanscrit College at Poona, and made a Fellow of the University of Bombay.

Being a man of great learning, and a profound thinker, it was but natural that he should embrace the opportunity of his sojourn in India to acquire a more intimate acquaintance, through personal observation, with the manners, customs, and religious ideas of the interesting and ancient races inhabiting that beautiful, mystic, Oriental land. And to this acquired knowledge, combined with his high intellectual gifts, we are indebted for the descriptive truthfulness and grandeur which give such a stamp of reality to his Eastern works. Throughout his period of office in the Bombay district, during which time he was twice the recipient of the official thanks from the Governor in Council for his valuable services through the period of the Mutiny, he found time to devote considerable attention to the study of Indian literature. The result of these labors may be seen in numerous volumes, which testify to the greatness of his genius and the depth of his intelligence. Foremost of the works of this class should stand "The Light of Asia." For this great master-piece, much of which was written, we are told, during the author's daily journeys on the Underground Railway, Sir Edwin Arnold was decorated by the King of Siam with the Order of the White Elephant. Produced as recently as 1879, it has already passed through fifty editions in England and numerous versions in America, and has been

read with enthusiasm by scholars throughout the civilized world. We wonder not at this, for the time spent in its perusal has been passed, as Carlyle so forcibly states, "Well and nobly, as in a temple of Wisdom." The remaining works of importance are, "The Hitopades'a," which was published in India, with a vocabulary in English, Sanscrit, and Murathi; "The Book of Good Counsels," being a metrical translation of the work just mentioned; "Education in India;" "A History of the Administration of India under the Marquis of Dalhousie;" "The Indian Song of Songs," a metrical paraphrase from the Sanscrit of the Gita Govinda of Jayadeva; a volume of Oriental subjects in verse, under the title of "Indian Poetry;" translations from the Sanscrit Epic, "The Mahabharata;” "Pearls of the Faith; or, Islam's Rosary," being an enumeration of the ninety-nine “beautiful names of Allah," with comments in verse; "Lotus and the Jewel," containing “In an Indian Temple,” and "The Casket of Gems," and "The Light of the World," just published. There has also been issued a volume of "Selections from the National and Non-Oriental Poems" of this author.

As one of our finest Greek scholars, Sir Edwin Arnold has further given us "The Euterpe of Herodotus," being a translation from the Greek text, with notes; a popular account, with translated passages, of "The Poets of Greece;" and "Hero and Leander," a translation in Heroic verse from the Greek of Musaus; with many other pieces from Greek, Latin, and other languages. In 1861, immediately after his return from India, he joined the staff of the Daily Telegraph, of which journal he now holds the laborious and responsible post of editor. It may be mentioned that it was Sir Edwin Arnold who, on behalf of the proprietors of this journal, arranged the first expedition of George Smith to Assyria, resulting in the recovery of the cuneiform tablets of the Deluge and the Creation. Under his direction also Henry Stanley was sent as Dr. Livingstone's successor to Africa, this expedition resulting in the discovery of the great River Congo. Sir Edwin Arnold is a Fellow of the Royal Asiatic and the Royal Geographical Societies of London, and Honorary Correspondent of that of Marseilles. As a fitting tribute to his valued services in India, he was named, at the time of the Queen's Proclamation as Empress of that land, a Companion of the Star of India. Four years later, that is in 1876, he received from the Sultan the second-class of the Imperial order of the Madjidie; and at a later date the third-class of the Ormanieh. On January 1, 1888, he was named by Her Majesty, the QueenEmpress, Knight Commander of the Order of the Indian Empire. F. A. H. E.

AFTER DEATH IN ARABIA.

HE who died at Azan sends This to comfort all his friends:

Faithful friends! It lies, I know,
Pale and white and cold as snow;
And ye say,
"Abdallah's dead!"

Weeping at the feet and head,
I can see your falling tears,

I can hear your sighs and prayers;
Yet I smile and whisper this,-
"I am not the thing you kiss;
Cease your tears, and let it lie;
It was mine, it is not I."

Sweet friends! What the women lave

For its last bed of the grave,
Is a tent which I am quitting,
Is a garment no more fitting,

Is a cage from which, at last,

Like a hawk my soul hath passed.
Love the inmate, not the room,-
The wearer, not the garb,-the plume
Of the falcon, not the bars

Which kept him from these splendid stars.

Loving friends! Be wise and dry
Straightway every weeping eye,—
What ye lift upon the bier

Is not worth a wistful tear.
'Tis an empty sea-shell,--one
Out of which the pearl is gone;
The shell is broken, it lies there;
The pearl, the all, the soul, is here.
'Tis an earthen jar, whose lid
Allah sealed, the while it hid
That treasure of his treasury,
A mind that loved him; let it lie!
Let the shard be earth's once more,
Since the gold shines in his store!

Allah glorious! Allah good!
Now thy world is understood;
Now the long, long wonder ends;
Yet ye weep, my erring friends,
While the man whom ye call dead,
In unspoken bliss, instead,
Lives and loves you; lost, 'tis true,
By such light as shines for you;
But in light ye cannot see
Of unfulfilled felicity,-

In enlarging paradise,

Lives a life that never dies.

Farewell, friends! Yet not farewell;
Where I am, ye, too, shall dwell.
I am gone.before your face,
A moment's time, a little space.
When ye come where I have stepped
Ye will wonder why ye wept;
Ye will know, by wise love taught,
That here is all, and there is naught.
Weep awhile, if ye are fain,—
Sunshine still must follow rain;
Only not at death,—for death,
Now I know, is that first breath
Which our souls draw when we enter
Life, which is of all life centre.

Be ye certain all seems love,
Viewed from Allah's throne above;
Be ye stout of heart, and come
Bravely onward to your home!
La Allah illa Allah! yea!

Thou love divine! Thou love alway!

He that died at Azan gave

This to those who made his grave.

SHE AND HE.

"SHE is dead!" they said to him. "Come away; Kiss her! and leave her!-thy love is clay!"

They smoothed her tresses of dark brown hair; On her forehead of marble they laid it fair:

Over her eyes, which gazed too much, They drew the lids with a gentle touch;

With a tender touch they closed up well The sweet thin lips that had secrets to tell;

About her brows, and her dear, pale face They tied her veil and her marriage-lace;

And drew on her white feet her white silk shoes;Which were the whiter no eye could choose!

And over her bosom they crossed her hands; "Come away," they said,—“God understands!”

And then there was Silence;-and nothing there But the Silence—and scents of eglantere,

And jasmine, and roses, and rosemary;
For they said, "As a lady should lie, lies she!"

What woe were hard to bear?
What sorrow worth one tear?

Murder would soften, black Despair would smile.

But, heralded on high,
From midnight's purple sky

Dropped like the sudden rain which brings the

flowers;

PEACE! Aye to dwell with men,
No strife, no wars! and, then,

The coupled comfort of those golden hours.

GOOD-WILL! Consider this,
What easy, perfect bliss

If, over all the Earth the one change spread
That Hate and Fraud should die,
And all in amity,

Let go rapine, and wrath, and wrong, and dread!

What lack of Paradise
If, in angelic wise,

Each unto Each, as to himself, were dear?
If we in souls descried,
Whatever form might hide,

Own brother, and own sister, everywhere?

All this, not whispered low
To one heart, full of woe

By reason of blood-reddened fields of Earth,
By sight of Fear and Hate,
And policies of state,

And evil fruits which have from these their birth:

But, through their ears, to us
Straitly imparted thus

With pomp of glittering Angels, and their train;
And radiance of such light

As maketh mid-day night,

And heavenliest speech of Heaven, not heard again.

Till these things come to pass!-
Nay, if it be-alas!-

A vision, let us sleep and dream it true!

Or-sane, and broad-awake,

For its great sound and sake,

Take it, and make it Earth's, and peace ensue! -From The Light of the World.

SONG.

NAY! if thou must depart, thou shalt depart;
But why so soon—oh, heart-blood of my heart?
Go then! Yet--going-turn and stay thy feet,
That I may once more see that face so sweet.
Once more-if never more; for swift days go
As hastening waters from their fountains flow;

And whether yet again shall meeting be Who knows? Who knows? Ah! turn once more to me!

DESTINY.

SOMEWHERE there waiteth in this world of ours
For one lone soul another lonely soul,

Each choosing each through all the weary hours,
And meeting strangely at one sudden goal.
Then blend they, like green leaves with golden

flowers

Into one beautiful and perfect whole;

And life's long night is ended, and the way Lies open onward to eternal day.

MOON.

Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high, And over all Vrindávana it shone;

The moon which on the front of gentle night Gleams like the chundun-mark on beauty's brow; The conscious moon which hath its silver face Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves. -The Indian Song of Songs.

LOVE.

Thou, thou hast been my blood, my breath, my being;

The pearl to plunge for in the sea of life; The sight to strain for, past the bounds of seeing; The victory to win through longest strife; My Queen! my crowned Mistress! my sphered bride!

Take this for truth, that what I say beside Of bold love-grown full-orbed at sight of theeMay be forgiven with a quick remission; For, thou divine fulfillment of all hope!

Thou, all-undreamed completion of the vision!

I gaze upon thy beauty, and my fear
Passes as clouds do, when the moon shines clear.
-Ibid.

MARRIAGE.

Then, follow, happiest Lady!
Follow him thou lovest wholly;
The hour is come to follow now

The souls thy spells have led;
His are thy breasts like jasper-cups,
And his thine eyes like planets;
Thy fragrant hair, thy stately neck,
Thy queenly sumptuous head;
Thy soft small feet, thy perfect lips,
Thy teeth like jasmine petals,