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France peruke; it crossed the channel and became periwig; afterwards the vandalism aforesaid cut off for convenience all except wig,-losing the root, and leaving in the word only one letter in common with its original!

In this connection may be mentioned two words found on our continent, which have puzzled our transatlantic friends, and which Mr. Trench has called on us to explain. These are the words Canada and caucus. The history of the first of these illustrates well how easily the real origin of a word may be obscured through a slight variation caused by ignorance. The Indian name for Canada, was Huachalaga.* When the country was invaded by the early Spanish gold-hunters, the Indians heard them repeat the words vaca nada-nothing here. When these, finding no gold, had gone, and others, permanent settlers, appeared, the Indians thinking they could speak to the whites, to that extent at least, cried out 'canada-unfortunately leaving off the first syllable. The whites imagined this to be the name of the land. The other word, caucus, which is purely American, arose from the meetings held by the caulkers or disguised revolutionists, in the Massachusetts ship-yards; the name became generic for all such private meetings where the interests of one party are represented, and was afterwards spelt phonetically instead of rightly. The origin of this word has such peculiar associations that we can easily pardon the limited research of our English brethren in its direction.

* How melancholy that these Indian names were lost! It would almost seem to be a sufficient reason for the existence of these Indians to have furnished a rich and poetical nomenclature to this country. Their names, wherever they are preserved, are the very autographs of the lakes, rivers, and landscapes. And, is it not too bad, that we should have bedizened our cities, and the grand phenomena of a New World, in the threadbare names of other lands and ages! Compare, as names for cities, New York, Syracuse, Boston, Cincinnati (THE CINCINNATUSES!), with Ticonderoga, Ontario, Niagara and Potomac; or the names of the rivers Charles, James, Whetstone or St. Johns, etc., with Roanoke, Altamaha, Rappahannock, Olentange (to which name we are glad to find the Whetstone has returned), or Merrimac. It is too evident that "the eternal fitness of things" has been violated, first, in baptizing America to the name of a pirate; and afterwards inflicting on our cities and places worn-out names which in no respect represent them.

1860.]

The Sacred Dance.

37

THE SACRED DANCE.

[From the Persian. ]

[THE Dervish supposes that the inspired dance describes curves which exactly correspond with the orbits of the heavenly bodies. The Persians sup. pose that a magic gem was lost by Solomon on their coasts, and that some pearl-diver will one day find it: this will explain the allusion in the ninth line of the verses.]

Spin the ball! I reel, I burn,

Nor head from foot can I discern,
Nor my heart from love of mine,
Nor the wine-cup from the wine!
All my doing, all my leaving
Reaches not to my perceiving;
Lost in whirl of spheres I rove,
And know only that I love.

I am seeker of the stone,
Living gem of Solomon;
From the shore of souls arrived,
In the sea of sense I dived:
But what is land, or what is wave
To me, who only jewels crave?

Love is the air-fed fire intense,
My heart is the frankincense:
Ah, I flame as aloes do,

But the censer can not know!

I'm all-knowing, yet unknowing;

Stand not, pause not in my going;
Ask not me, as Muftis can,

To recite the Alcoran :

Well I love the meaning sweet

I tread the Book beneath my feet!

Lo, the God's love blazes higher,

Till all differences expire;

What are Moslems? What are Giaours ?

All are love's, and all are ours;

I embrace the true believers,

But I reck not of deceivers.

Firm to Heaven my bosom clings,
Heedless of inferior things:
Down on earth, there, under-foot,
What men chatter know I not.

EXCALIBUR.

A STORY FOR ANGLO-AMERICAN BOYS.

CHAPTER I.

"Paradise is under a canopy of swords."-MAHOMET.

It was Christmas-eve at Kenmore. The last of its gleaming fruit had been stripped from the Wonderful Tree which blossoms but once a year; the last wax-candle was flashing up with flickering light upon the arch bending over it, on which, shaped in moss, were the words—

LO, I AM WITH YOU ALWAYS.

The little palates had feasted on sugar-plums, and the little eyes on toys, to satiety; the yawn was becoming frequent, though the evening was scarcely begun. At this moment, when the children were, like the ancient monarch, ready to give the largest reward to one who could invent a new pleasure, the genial face of Uncle Paul came like a sun-burst through the door. In an instant he was fastened on by three young parasites clamorous for

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a story." There is no more lineal descendant of the daughter of the horse-leech than your story-loving youngsters of nine, eleven and fourteen; of which ages we speak with confidence, because they are the respective ages of little Edith, Arthur and Alfred Edgarton, who now bound Uncle Paul a victim on their altar.

Uncle Paul.-What shall I tell you a story about?

Arthur (eagerly).-Tell us about kings and queens.

Alfred (hesitatingly).-Yes, do; and about Christian in Pilgrim's Progress.

Edith (drowsily).-Uncle Paul, do tell us about Cinderilla.

Our avuncular Gulliver gave a glance of despair at the pinions with which the Lilliputians had bound him, looked up at the parents, who, with a heartlessness quite common to parents, smiled on his immolation with a complacency which forbade hope in that quarter, then made a desperate effort at escape by asking to see the Christmas gifts. The boys straightway charged upon him with trumpets, fifes, drums, guns and swords, as if he had been a Malakoff over which their banners must float; but little Edith,

who had the coigne d'advantage, being in his lap, foreclosed all other views by thrusting up two immense wax dolls, which he saw eye to eye and nose to nose. But Arthur, almost at the cost of a quarrel with this monopolist, would have his sword looked at; and, indeed, Uncle Paul seemed to think it worthy his determination, for he looked at it long and carefully. Arthur looked on in proud and the others in jealous silence, as the old man looked over the bit of painted wood from hilt to point again and again. He said, presently, "There was once another Arthur who had a very famous sword: how would you like to hear a story about that?" An eager assent from the children meeting this proposition, Uncle Paul began:

"The sword of which I am going to tell a story belonged to an ancient king who lived more than 1300 years ago, and whose name was Arthur. The name of the sword was EXCALIBUR."

The Three-What does Excalibur mean?

Uncle Paul.-It is not quite certain; for in the old books it is spelt in different ways, sometimes Escalibore, then Scalibur, Calibur and Esclabure. It is likely that it means a sword of Calibre.

The boys were too proud to manifest any, ignorance of this last word, which was uttered with an air of simplicity, but Edith, with whose sex curiosity overrules pride, gave signs at once of not being at all satisfied. So in answer to her question Uncle Paul said, "Calibre means the sort or kind; EXCALIBUR, as the name of a sword, would mean a sword of excellent quality. The sword of King Arthur was a sword that never struck but for justice and honor. It was said that its blow never failed of its aim perhaps that means that no blow struck for honor and justice ever fails.

This King Arthur was a noble and virtuous prince in the midst of a barbarous age and land. He was justly called flos regum— the "flower of kings." In that early age, when there were scarcely any laws, and very little chance of trying people for crimes in courts, the protection of innocent people, the defence of women and children, depended upon the swords of men brave enough to stand or fall for the right against the wrong, and hold their shields between the oppressor and the oppressed. This was not a good state of society, but in the end it made some strong men-men worthy to be called, as they afterwards were, Saxon, or

men of rock.* The laws and court-houses take a good deal of the bravest and truest work off of our shoulders, and the strength that it begets out of our hearts. King Arthur, in order that this should be well done throughout his kingdom, called about him the bravest and truest knights; they lived with him in his palace; and they were called The Knights of the Round Table. They still show in England a large, round, black table, about which, they say, sat these knights. They each and all took a solemn oath that every drop of blood in their hearts should be ready to fall in the defence of the weak against the strong! And many were the glorious deeds they did, many the stirring adventures with which they met. Perhaps, some day, I shall tell you more of them. I must now tell you about the sword. The story runs that it was not wrought by human hands. A nymph down under the sea spent nine years in making it; and when she had made it silver-bright, and made it of edge invisible for fineness, she searched all through the sea for rarest pearls and gems to ornament its hilt. It partook of the strength of the strong sea, and the freedom of the winds and waves was in its temper. Then the nymph kept it to herself until a man should arise on the earth brave and true and strong enough to wield that sword.

When King Uther died, it was believed that he had no son to sit on his throne, and so a great many knights came forward presenting their claims on the throne. Now it was really the case that Uther's wife, Igerna, had borne him a son before they were married, and because of the shame the child, whose name was Arthur, was given to the wife of a nobleman named Antour to bring up as her own; and the king died without disclosing that he had a son living, whilst his wife Igerna knew not where the child had been taken, or whether it was alive or dead. Great then was the strife and discussion as to who should be king. So high did the strife run that, on Christmas-eve, the good bishop came amongst them, and said that, as no decision was likely to be reached by human means, it would be well for them all to put up their prayers that Providence might send down some sign which should point out the one who should be their king. The holy father's advice was adopted-they all began to pray; and,

* Uncle Paul could only have meant a pun: Saxon is doubtless a corruption of Saracen, and not from Latin SAXUM, a rock.

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