spot.  The rulers who had preceded him had anticipated the close of their power with dread, or smothered all thought of it in revelry; but he looked forward to it as a day of joy, when he should enter upon a career of permanent peace and happiness.  The day came; the freed slave who had been made a king was deprived of his authority; with his power he lost his royal garments; naked he was placed upon a ship, and its sails were set for the desolate island.  When he approached its shores, however, the people whom he had sent there came to meet him with music, song, and great joy.  They made him a prince among them, and he lived ever after in pleasantness and peace.

The Talmudist thus explains this beautiful parable of the Desolate Island:  The wealthy man of kindly disposition is God, and the slave to whom he gave freedom is the soul which he gives to man.  The island at which the slave arrives is the world:  naked and weeping he appears to his parents, who are the inhabitants that greet him warmly and make him their king.  The friends who tell him of the ways of the country are his good inclinations.  The year of his reign is his span of life, and the desolate island is the future world, which he must beautify by good deeds—­the workmen and materials—­or else live lonely and desolate for ever.[91]

   [91] This is similar to the 10th parable in the spiritual
        romance of Barlaam and Joasaph, written in Greek,
        probably in the first half of the 7th century, and
        ascribed to a monk called John of Damascus.  Most of the
        matter comprised in this interesting work (which has not
        been translated into English) was taken from well-known
        Buddhist sources, and M. Zotenberg and other eminent
        scholars are of the opinion that it was first composed,
        probably in Egypt, before the promulgation of Islam.  The
        10th parable is to this effect:  The citizens of a
        certain great city had an ancient custom, to take a
        stranger and obscure man, who knew nothing of the city’s
        laws and traditions, and to make him king with absolute
        power for a year’s space; then to rise against him all
        unawares, while he, all thoughtless, was revelling and
        squandering and deeming the kingdom his for ever; and
        stripping off his royal robes, lead him naked in
        procession through the city, and banish him to a
        long-uninhabited and great island, where, worn down for
        want of food and raiment, he bewailed this unexpected
        change.  Now, according to this custom, a man was chosen
        whose mind was furnished with much understanding, who
        was not led away by sudden prosperity, and was
        thoughtful and earnest in soul as to how he should best
        order his affairs.  By close questioning, he learned from
        a