am," she said; "but she has been enabled to contribute more to your happiness by securing that of France.. Not till you have ceased to watch by her bed, not till you are weary of embracing your son, will you take your pen to converse with your best friend. . . . Meanwhile, it is not possible for me to delay telling you that, more than any one in the world, do I rejoice in your joy." And in abounding evidence of the sincerity of her delight, she presented to the page of the emperor, who was already bringing her the glad intelligence while her congratulatory note was on the way, a diamond breast-pin and a thousand dollars in gold, in token of her joy in his message.

Thus always in this friendship; Josephine never wavered, never changed. When the overthrow of Napoleon by the allies caused his banishment to Elba, with his separation from his wife and child, Josephine realized that her mission as his friend was at last at an end. She wrote to Napoleon in hearty assurance of unswerving fidelity, and in profoundest regret, that she was unable, through his act, to follow him into his solitude. "Now only can I calculate the whole extent of the misfortune of having beheld my union with you dissolved by law," she said. And then she lay down and died, with a prayer for him on her lips. Napoleon could see, in looking back upon his stormy career, that the richest blessing of his life had been the friendship of Josephine, and that the greatest error of his life had been the practical rejection of her friendship. "She was the best woman in France," he said at St. Helena; and he had before said, that to her love he was indebted for the only few moments of happiness he ever enjoyed on earth. And he spoke sadly,

in those later years, of his divorce from Josephine, as the time when he set his "foot on an abyss covered with a bed of flowers." The record shows that that friendship of Josephine was very much to Napoleon while it was cherished, and that its rejection was one of the causes of his ruin.

In the East and in the West, earlier and later, the story is much the same. History and fiction combine to celebrate the praises of friendship in royalty, as of royalty in friendship.

The most widely known of all the Muhammadan khaleefs, and the one whose sway was most extensive in the East, was Haroon-ar-Rasheed of Bagdad; or Haroun Alraschid, as he is called in our English versions of the Arabian Nights. He was a contemporary of Charles the Great, at the close of the eighth and the beginning of the ninth century, and is said to have been in friendly correspondence with that great emperor of the Franks. It is not easy to separate the true from the fanciful in the story of this khaleef; but all writers agree in declaring that the rise and glory of his wonderful reign were linked with his friendship for Jaafer, a son of his grand vizier, Yahya. In the stories of the Arabian Nights, Jaafer is the favorite companion of Haroon in his many marvelous adventures. Careful biographers also agree in saying that Jaafer was the constant sharer of Haroon's enjoyments, and would often be found with him in his pleasure-seeking when the hour of early morning prayer closed the night they had had together. Haroon's attachment to Jaafer was of so extravagant a character that he could never bear him to be absent from his

side," says Professor Palmer; "and he even went to the absurd length of having a cloak made with two collars, so that he and Jaafer could wear it at one and the same time." Jaafer was advanced in wealth and dignity by his royal friend. He came to have almost limitless influence, and he made use of it according to his own ideas of expediency. In order to open the way to the hareem for his friend, that they might not be separated even there, the khaleef arranged a nominal marriage between Jaafer and the sister of Haroon, with the distinct agreement that the relations between the two should be purely Platonic. Because this agreement was not adhered to by Jaafer, Haroon turned against his friend, and destroyed him and his family. The friendship, while it lasted, was a swaying force in the khaleefate; and its rupture was a beginning of the end to the dynasty represented by Haroon.

Greatest and best of the Mogul emperors was Akbar Muhammad, or Jelal-ed-Deen, who reigned in the latter half of the sixteenth century. He was great as a soldier and a statesman. He was practically the founder of the empire of India. He bore the title of Joogat Gooroo, "Protector of Mankind," and he is said to have been the only Oriental sovereign who ever deserved such a designation. Such a ruler must have appreciated friendship, and have known how to be a friend. Among the many stories that are told of the greatness and goodness of Akbar (and "Akbar" means "greatest") are stories of his friendship for Shaykh Solayman, whom he trusted with a royal confidence. It is even said that, while Akbar was away from his capital on his important campaigns, he practically gave over his palace and his

kingdom to his friend Solayman, putting into his charge the care of his wives and children, his treasury, and his affairs of state. Tradition whispers that Solayman was not always true to his trust as the emperor's friend; but no one ever questioned the emperor's royal and unswerving love for his friend, as his other self. At Sicandra, near Agra, there rest the remains of Akbar in a magnificent mausoleum. At Futtipoor Sicri, not far from the same capital, is the tomb that contains all that was mortal of Solayman. Both burial-places are revered as sacred shrines; and pilgrims who go from the one to the other tell, to this day, of the friendship whereby the Shaykh Solayman was honored by the Emperor Akbar.

So it is always and everywhere; royalty shows itself royal in its appreciation of friendship, and friendship finds its fitting sway in the heart of him who is royal. Friendship is not dependent on royalty; but true royalty realizes its dependence on friendship.

PROMOTING HEROISM.

EROISM is more than royalty, but heroism is not more than friendship. Friendship can make men's spirit heroic, as friendship can make men's characters royal. In heroism and in royalty friendship proves an

incitement and an inspiration.

In Plato's Banquet, Phædrus says that if an army could be made up of men who loved one another as friends, "such persons, fighting side by side, although few in number, would conquer, so to say, the whole world; for a lover-friend would less endure to be seen by his beloved deserting his post or throwing away his arms than by all others; and rather than to leave his friend when fallen, or not to assist him when in danger, he would prefer to die many deaths." And Phædrus adds: "There is not a man so much of a coward that love would not divinely inspire him to deeds of valor, and make him equal to the very best of birth." Aristotle, likewise, lays emphasis on friendship as peculiarly a ne