In like fashion does the Persian “Sindibad Nama” begin:  There reigned in India a sage and mighty monarch, the bricks of whose palace were not of stone or marble but of gold; the fuel of whose kitchen was fresh wood of aloes; who had brought under the signet of his authority the kingdoms of Rum and Abyssinia; and to whom were alike tributary the Ethiop Maharaj and the Roman Kaysar.  He was distinguished above all monarchs for his virtue clemency, and justice.  But although he was the refuge of the Khalifate, he was not blessed with an heir:  life and the world appeared profitless to him, because he had no fruit of the heart in the garden of his soul.  One night, while reclining on his couch, sad and thoughtful, consumed with grief like a morning taper, he heaved a deep sigh upon which one of his favourite wives (he had a hundred in his harem), advancing towards him and kissing the ground, inquired the cause of his distress.  He discloses it.  His wife consoles him, encourages him to hope, and assures him that if he prayed, his prayers would be answered, but that at all events it was his duty to be resigned to the will of God.  “Prayer is the only key that will open the door of difficulty.”  The king fasted for a whole week and was assiduous in his devotions.  One night he prayed with peculiar earnestness and self-abasement till morning.  The companion of his couch was one of his wives, fairer than the sun and the envy of a pert.  He clasped her in his embrace, exclaiming, “There is no strength, no power, save in God!” and he felt assured in his heart that his prayer was granted.  In due time a son was born to him, and, eager to show his gratitude, he bestowed munificent gifts and lavished his treasures on all his subjects.

The seventh of Lal Behari Day’s “Folk-Tales of Bengal” opens as follows:  Once on a time there reigned a king who had seven queens.  He was very sad, for the seven queens were all barren.  A holy mendicant, however, one day told the king that in a certain forest there grew a tree, on a branch of which hung seven mangoes; if the king himself plucked those mangoes and gave one to each of the queens they would all become mothers.  So the king went to the forest, plucked the seven mangoes that grew upon one branch, and gave a mango to each of the queens to eat.  In a short time the king’s heart was filled with joy as he heard that the seven queens were pregnant.—­In Miss Stokes’ “Indian Fairy Tales,’ p. 91, Raja Barbal receives from an ascetic 160 lichi fruits, one of which he is to give to each of his 160 wives, who would have each a son.—­ Similar instances occur in Steel and Temple’s “Wide Awake Stories,” from the Panjab and Kashmir, pp. 47 and 290, and in Natesa Sastri’s “Dravidian Nights’ Entertainments” (a translation of the Tamil romance entitled “Madanakamarajankadai"), pp. 55, 56.—­Among biblical instances of women having offspring after being long barren are:  Sarah, the wife of Abraham (Gen. ch. xv. 2 4, xxi. 1, 2); Rachel, the wife of