he gift of Heaven."

Among the children of poor parents taken care of and educated by my
orders, there was a beautiful girl named Sylifa, the daughter of a
labouring man who worked in the ravines.

In the early part of my reign I had been struck with her beauty and
intelligence, and directed that she should be brought up and educated in
my palace.

Her eyes were almond-shaped, large, long, lustrous, and languishing; and
might be pictured by fancy as beaming with ethereal flowers, crystalline
fountains in all their brightness, painting, sculpture, and poetry.

Her lovely mouth never gave utterance to a thought that was not kind and
good; indeed, all her features were beautiful, and the soft and
luxuriant hair hung down to her feet in graceful curls--the back hair
was much longer, and, when unbound, fell to the ground in rich masses.

She had a musical, merry laugh, which, whether they would or not, could
set all present laughing, however seriously inclined.

Her talents were many, her versatility was great; for she was
accomplished in various pursuits, and in most of them excelled. When
singing or playing the harp, her dreamy eyes were more than earthly, and
seemed as though beaming with poetry inspired of Heaven.

The beauty of her mind could be read in her face; she looked so
heavenly, that when grown into womanhood I have, in a moment of
enthusiasm, been almost tempted to fold her in my arms; but I never
forgot my great mission, even in the most perilous moments.

I took particular care of the lovely girl, and selected for her husband
a very handsome man and a great poet, who was chosen in due form by
Sylifa at one of our marriage "choice" meetings.

The union was happy, though, perhaps, they loved each other too well.

The married couple resided in my palace, and Sylifa continued to afford
to me and my guests the greatest recreation and amusement.

She was very luxurious, and very particular in her habits. I have seen
her, while amusing us, suddenly (perhaps designedly), stop short, and
direct her attendant to bring the golden salver, telling us at the same
time that her hand (and she had exquisite hands) was a little soiled.
She would moisten them with the perfumed water, and then resume her task
of amusing us; our attention having, in the meantime, been kept in
breathless suspense.

In my palace under the sea (for I had a submarine retreat, of which I
may speak hereafter) there was a large sheet or b