nd a sovereign so real. Nothing in all the
world at these moments seemed to her to be so good and precious as the
round disk of gold which rules everything. The good that she could do
with it--with just one of those golden disks!

Did you ever read Al Hariri? That accomplished scholar, the late Mr.
Chenery (of _The Times_), translated twenty-six of his poems from the
Arabic, and added most interesting notes. This curious book is a fusion
of the Arabian Nights, Ecclesiastes, and Rabelais. There is the magical
unexpectedness of the Arabian Nights, the vanity of vanities, all is
vanity, of the Preacher, and the humour of the French satirist. Wisdom
is scattered about it; at one moment you acknowledge a great thought,
the next you are reproached for a folly, and presently laugh at a deep
jest.

Al Hariri has a bearing upon Amaryllis, because he sang of the dinar,
the Arabian sovereign, the double-faced dinar, the reverse and the
obverse, head and tail, one side giving everything good, and the other
causing all evil. For the golden disk has two sides, and two Fates
belong to it. First he chants its praises:--

How noble is that yellow one, whose yellowness is pure,
Which traverses the regions, and whose journeying is afar.
Told abroad are its fame and repute:
Its lines are set as the secret sign of wealth;
Its march is coupled with the success of endeavours;
Its bright look is loved by mankind,
As though it had been molten of their hearts.
By its aid whoever has got it in his purse assails boldly,
Though kindred be perished or tardy to help.
Oh! charming are its purity and brightness;
Charming are its sufficiency and help.
How many a ruler is there whose rule has been perfected by it!
How many a sumptuous one is there whose grief, but for it,
would be endless!
How many a host of cares has one charge of it put to flight!
How many a full moon has a sum of it brought down!
How many a one, burning with rage, whose coal is flaming,
Has it been secretly whispered to and then his anger has
softened.
How many a prisoner, whom his kin had yielded,
Has it delivered, so that his gladness has been unmingled.
Now by the Truth of the Lord whose creation brought it forth,
Were it not for His fear