The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1872-06-02


art, soon made him as famous In Cairo AZ he
had been in Cordova, and he was at once made
The caiiph Aohmet Reschid was never weary
Of admiring the .slmost universal knowledge
| of the old man, and often invited him to the
palace to converse with him for hours upon the
secrets and marvels OF nature. Suddenly .
terrible plague broke out In the city, which
Threatened to decimate the population. Ben
as;Isisn compounded . wonderful lotion;
| That In nothing could evil be conquered In
greater proportion than this; that seventh
Of of ror
and that when the proportion Of evil IN the
human body, in the soul. in society, in nature.
possible had been made.
night in great haste to the palace; the wife
the pestilence. ' Ben Ha,z elss applied the
health-but the wife died.
The caliph .Achmet Reschid was overcome
with gratitude for so signal 9 service, and
throwing himself into the arms Of tho old
physician, exclaimed. Venerable old man! to
thee owe the life Of my son and my happi-
thee Grand Vizierw
The old Jew Frustrated himself, ON the
Yes oonsinaea the oaipS sae who had truly
noble heart; "yes, heed q friend In whom
can eonfide, as 1 have, one after another, be-
headed all those whom had in D moment of
| impulse honored with that title."s
Thanks, o mighty caliph ~ humbly replied
Ben Ha-zelah.4 How shall find fitting words
| to thank my gracious prince for such unmerit-
ed condescension! Surely never did kindness
like this rejoice the earth"
"Thou sayeth we'll and truly. child of ia
coS," answered the puissapt caliph.
caliph for Ben-Ha-Zelah, only increased it.
Tho jealousy of the courtiers had always sue.
ceeded in poisoning, the mind of the caliPh
against any one on whom he had conferred the
dignity OF Grand Vizier ; but the prudence of
the old Jew bafied all their schemes, and Ach-
met Reechid had learned how to guard against
! calumniators. At the FIRST word Reathed
against the favo.ite that benevolent prince
and faithful friend ordered the rash slanderer
to be beheaded, and very soon the oourtiers
Grand Vizer. The good calipb, seeing. the
harmony Of feeling among his people with re-
gard to the new favorite, congratulated him
~ knew very WE'LL" said he, "that the
whole court would at last do him justice.
talk Of him with every one, aud no man says
AS for Benz Ha-Zelah, he seemed to be per-
fectly Indifferent to the immense power which
his favor with the caliph gave him in the
State: In vain did the courtiers try to entan-
did the proud noblemen of the Kingdom, in
hopes of gaining his protection, lay costly
gifts at his feet. He gently refused them all.
Devoid of ambition, ana prudent to excess, the
old Jew withdrew as much as possible from
public affairs. He even begged the caliph to
excuse his attendance at the palace, except at
himself more uninterruptedly to scientific pur-
suits. The love of the caliph grew day by day.
and the courtiers as we'll as the common peo-
| pie, seeing thehumility and disinteredness of
the Grand Vizier, acknowledged him to be n-
| deed sage.
| At court as everywhere else, he was clad in
tinguishable from the crowd, had not the Ing
tellectual expression OF his face, and the
strange brilliancy of his eyes, revealed at .
seen in the streets of Cairo, carrying in his
| own hands the metals, stones or medicinal
plants, which he bought in the bazaars, or
| gathered in his solitary rambles. Whereveri
| he went he heard his own praise; but never
did he in any way betray that it was agreeable
to him.
"No one is so poor and humble" said the
common people to each other, "as the Grand
Vizier Of our high and mighty caliph"
| The truth was, however, that with the ex-
| possessed such vast riches as the "poor" Vizier;
but after the manner Of the Jews he carefully
concencealed them, and lived in a very modest
mansion situated outside the walls of the city.
| This humble dwelling was completely hidden
| by tie palm and cedar trees which surrounded
it, and for still greater security was enclosed
In this quiet and mysterious retreat, where
he admitted NO guests, he had conferred all that
made his lifes there d welt bis child, the young
Rachel just budding int womanhood.
When, after passing weary hours in the I'M
meaning ceremonial of the court. he reached
his garden gate, and stealthily opened it, his
| usually impressive face was suddenly illumined
as with q sunbeam. 1t was if he had passed
| from death into life.
His daughter, clad, like queen of the east,
ran to meet him, and embraced him SO tender
| ly that it seemed as if portion of her young
life was breathed into the worn and exhausted
frame of the aged father. Ben-Ha-Zelah for
| got his sorrows and his cares, and seemed to |
revive with the breath of spring. 81 gave |
thee life, my daughter; thou dost restore It to |
me !" murmured the old man.
Rachel was just entering hersixteenth year. |
Her hair was of the beautiful golden color |
! which poets love- Her eyes, her voice, her |
smile, her bearing, carried with them an ire |
| sstible charm. She looked, it was u ray of |
light; she spoke, it was a strain of music she |
smiled, it was the opening of gate of Para |
disc. Her heart was pure and innocent as was |
that Of Rachel of old, whom Jacob loved. Can
we wonder that the heart. of her father was |
bound up in herf Who, indeed. could help |
loving being so pure and BRIGHT