ke of nature's bounty," and to complain that
such an offer should be made in vain. To a contemplative mind, such a
scene might have suggested a thousand delightful reflections. But what
charms could it have for the soul of Alexander, whose breast was filled
with schemes of ambition and conquest; whose eye was familiarised with
rapine and slaughter; and whose ears were accustomed to the clash of
arms--to the groans of the wounded and the dying? Onward, therefore, he
marched. Yet, overcome by fatigue and hunger, he was soon obliged to
halt. He seated himself on the bank of the river, took a draught of the
water, which he found of a very fine flavour and most refreshing. He
then ordered some salt fish, with which he was well provided, to be
brought to him. These he caused to be dipped in the stream, in order to
take off the briny taste, and was greatly surprised to find them emit a
fine fragrance. "Surely," said he, "this river, which possesses such
uncommon qualities, must flow from some very rich and happy country."

Following the course of the river, he at length arrived at the gates of
Paradise. The gates were shut. He knocked, and, with his usual
impetuosity, demanded admittance. "Thou canst not be admitted here,"
exclaimed a voice from within; "this gate is the Lord's." "I am the
Lord--the Lord of the earth," rejoined the impatient chief. "I am
Alexander the Conqueror. Will you not admit _me_?" "No," was the answer;
"here we know of no conquerors, save such as conquer their passions:
_None but the just can enter here_." Alexander endeavoured in vain to
enter the abode of the blessed--neither entreaties nor menaces availed.
Seeing all his attempts fruitless, he addressed himself to the guardian
of Paradise, and said: "You know I am a great king, who has received the
homage of nations. Since you will not admit me, give me at least some
token that I may show an astonished world that I have been where no
mortal has ever been before me." "Here, madman," said the guardian of
Paradise--"here is something for thee. It may cure the maladies of thy
distempered soul. One glance at it may teach thee more wisdom than thou
hast hitherto derived from all thy former instructors. Now go thy ways."

Alexander took the present with avidity, and repaired to his tent. But
what was his confusion and surprise to find, on examining his present,
that it was nothing but a fragment of a human skull. "And is this,"
exclaimed he, "the mighty gif