affection for him, opened the petition and held it up to his eyes so that he could not avoid reading the signatures. Saladin, seeing the name at the head, remarked that its owner was a worthy person and entitled to a favorable hearing. " Then let my master write his approval," persisted the servant. The Sultan remarked that he lacked writing materials. " There they are," returned the slave, pointing to an inkstand near by, but made no effort to fetch it. Saladin turned, saw it and stretching out, contrived to reach it, after which he appended his signature. When the slave had gone, Beha ed-din, who had been an astounded eye witness, alluded to the Sultan's kindliness. " It is not worth speaking of," said Saladin indifferently. Rarely indeed do the chronicles record the breaking down of his self-control except in grief over the loss of those to whom he was attached, or in sympathy with the unfortunate. Not a single choleric outbreak, not a single venting of temper, though he was often sorely tried. This self-restraint must have been inherent, though it is even more marked in his later years than at the beginning of his career, proof enough that his ever-increasing power did not turn his head. A marked instance came at the close when the emirs, angered because he had restrained their looting proclivities, did not budge when ordered to charge the enemy. When he made camp that night the emirs feared to face him. His own son, el Melek ez-Zaher, confessed to Beha ed-din that he expected to witness some executions. " I had not the courage to enter his