most probably, loving his art as much as the lady for whom he acquired it, he spent three years more in studying the various styles of painters in the other Italian cities. The period prescribed by his singular engagement had nearly expired, when he once more re-entered Naples.

He first presented himself to a gentleman of the court, whose picture he drew; and through him Solario was introduced to the Queen of Naples, Joan II, This was the same princess who had witnessed Colantonio's covenant with him. But he was so changed in every respect, that she did not recognise him. Solario presented to her a picture of his own, "The Madonna and Child." She praised the picture, and then Solario threw himself at her feet, and ventured to ask her if she did not recollect the wandering gipsy who ten years before had the honour of being admitted to her presence, and in whose fortune she had been pleased then to take an interest. The queen, now recognising the tinker, could scarcely believe that the picture he had given her was really of his own paint

B

ing, and to convince her, he, in her presence, executed a portrait of herself. She then sent for Colantonio, showed Solario's pictures to him, and desired his opinion of them. Colantonio extolled them very highly. The queen then asked him whether he would not give his daughter to the artist whose productions were now before him, rather than wait any longer for the return of the gipsy, of whom he had heard nothing for so many years. The Neapolitan painter was but too glad to have her majesty's consent to the termination of an engagement which must have given him considerable annoyance. The queen then called Solario from behind a curtain, where he had heard all that had passed. Solario claimed his bride; she was presented to him; and, as the father placed her hand in his, he observed, “If not his ancestry, at least his art deserves her."

Solario was appointed painter to the Neapolitan court. He executed many fine works of art. His frescoes in particular, though now half defaced, still bear testimony to the extraordinary powers of the gipsy painter.

ALFRED THE GREAT.

EVERY nation treasures the memory of some illustrious kings; for many admirable characters have adorned the sceptre. Alfred, the glory of the ninth century, stands at their head. All other great kings rank after Alfred. And here we may observe the common law of greatness operating among them all. Alfred the Great of England, Peter the Great of Russia, James the First of Scotland, and every other great man of the same rank has been essentially self-educated. Each and all have carved out their own greatness, in so far as it has been a true and substantial greatness, and not a mere phantom of the kingly power. It has been often said, and cannot be

too carefully remembered, there is no royal road to knowledge.

ALFRED LEARNING TO READ.

ALFRED had reached his twelfth year before he had learned the alphabet-for even among royal youths education was then rare and difficult. His mother one day exhibited to him and his brothers one of the beautiful and costly manuscript books, adorned with painted pictures and fanciful letters, which were then in fashion; the children greatly admired the rich pages submitted to their gaze, and the mother promised she would give it to him who should first learn to read it. Alfred, the youngest of the four brothers, immediately went and procured a teacher for himself, and in a very short time, he was able to read the precious volume, which he claimed and received.

ALFRED'S LANTERNS

Ar this period there was no method of keeping an accurate reckoning of time known in Eng

land. Alfred, perceiving the preciousness of time, and the importance of watching its progress, in order to economise the fleeting treasure directed his chaplains to procure a quantity of wax, and ordered six candles to be made, each of twelve inches long, for these he had ascertained would together burn for four and twenty hours. Having marked the inches on them, he ordered that they should be lighted in succession, and each three inches that were consumed he considered as recording the flight of an hour.

"But finding that the candles burned away more quickly at one time than at another, on account of the rushing violence of the winds, which sometimes would blow night and day without intermission, through the doors and windows, the numerous chinks in the walls, or the slender covering of the tents, he bethought him how he might prevent this inconvenience, and, having contrived artfully and wisely, he ordered that a lantern should be fairly fashioned of wood and horn, for white horn, when scraped thin, allows the light to pass through like glass.