Year: 1873

! into an AdoniS? Absorbed In reflection


like second Newton absorbed in some
theory of light, he would, at all events,
have passed for model of Narcissus gaz


into an enchanted stream. The poetry oi
beauty combined with ths poetry of bound


less wealth to dazzle his eyes, his brain
and his soul. He delivered himself up tc
the most enchanting dreams. No wonder
that Mr.. erode had been willing to risk all
he was worth in the world for the chance
of securing such prize. paltry eighty
thousand, indeed, for what was worth six
millions! As he looked, the great Emerald
seemed to grow brighter and brighter-to
swell larger and larger; until it seemed to
fill up the whole room with its splen-
dor. He sat in very atmosphere of emer,
aid. 1t even seemed to speak audiply to
him with the voices of strange birds, blend
ed into almost ineligible song.


No wonder that men have passion for
precious stones, that, to the philosopher,
appears to be one of the very maddest of
all mad passions. To place an exorbitant
value upon mere piece of crystal, merely
because it glitters and is rare-is it not
obvious folly? And yet there are good
reasons, perfectly natural and perfectly
human, for such a proceeding-it is not
only because precious stones are the only
bright things on earth that never fade
There is some poetry at the heart of every
man and women in the world: even ava
rice refuses to be quite prosaic. Indeed,
even as the hearts of the avaricious are of
set purpose, and by deliberate constraint,
the most prosaic of all, so poetic reaction
the harder with them when it comes. To
one who finds beauty and poetry every
where, jewel is but one beautiful thing
the more in world of beautiful things
1t is 40 less, but, at the same time, no
more beautiful than sunbeam or bios
som. But to him who sees no beauty in
the sunbeam beyond its suggestion of
gold, none in the blossom but its presage
emerald contains in itself all the beauty
that his soul can conceive or desire. He
can worship beauty and mammon at the
same time, and become a poet without
ceasing to be sensible and practical man.


No doubt, to Nathan Levi the beauty of
the great Emerald lay in its six millions.
Had it been worth six pence, he would
have crushed it under his heavy feet, even
though it would still have been just as
beautiful. But two hundred and forty
million sixpences! The very words con-
tanned romance, and would have called
into existence brightness and beauty had
they not in reality been there; but, as they
were there in reality, they also made their
voices heard.


He looked into the transparent depths of
what seemed to him to be an ocean of
green light, pervaded by legion of the
invisible fairies that take the place of toll
ing gnomes when II jewel has been drawn
from the mine and carved into brightness.
But wherever there are fairies, there is
song. The bird-like singing that thrilled
and trembled through his ears grew by de-
grees even more ineligible.


"You hideous, ill-grained mortal" it
said, "you are now the greatest man on all
the earth! You hold in your hands tails
man of wealth and of power. Were it
known to be yours, men would grovel at
your feet-women would race one another
to your arms. You might trample on the
necks of kings, and queens would cover
your ogre-lips with kisses, and rest your
head upon their white bosoms. Deep
within the mountain caverns l was formed
ere man was dreamed off: gnomes have
toiled and Titans labored to create me
what l am: dreams of sunlight gave me
brightness, and the echoes of the ocean,
carried upon wings Of fragrance, gave me
hue and gave me form. Then the hands
of mighty princess tore me from my depths
of darkness, gave me to the jewel fairies
who now sparkle in my sea; and the fair
also labored, plunging me in living sun
shine, made me look on living water,
till they crowned me Queen of Gems
Looked upon my light and wonder, who
am more than countless treasure: gold is
dross and silver nothing-something more
than these am ~


And so, for many long hour, the light
of the crystal seemed to enter his ears as
we'll as his eyes in sort of rhymeless mel
ody, singing the praises of that which gave
him glory. He could not tear himself from
his treasure: he neither ate nor drank, nor
refreshed himself with sleep: he could only
look and listen, fairly intoxicated with the
joy of possession.