of Mankind!  What hast thou done, Sah-luma, . . what hast thou done with the treasures bestowed upon thee by the all-endowing Angels? ...  How hast thou used the talisman of thy genius?  To comfort the afflicted? ... to dethrone and destroy the oppressor? ... to uphold the cause of Justice? ... to rouse the noblest instincts of thy race? ... to elevate and purify the world? ...  Alas, alas!—­ thou hast made Thyself the idol of thy muse, and thou being but perishable, thy fame shall perish with thee!  Thou hast drowsed away thy manhood in the lap of vice, . . thou hast slept and dreamed when thou should have been awake and vigilant!  Not I, but thou shouldst have warned the people of their coming doom! ... not I, but thou shouldst have marked the threatening signs of the pregnant hour,—­not I, but thou shouldst have perceived the first faint glimmer of God’s future scheme of glad salvation,—­not I, but thou shouldst have taught and pleaded, and swayed by thy matchless sceptre of sweet song, the passions of thy countrymen!  Hadst thou been true to that first flame of Thought within thee, O Sah-luma, how thy glory would have dwarfed the power of kings!  Empires might have fallen, cities decayed, and nations been absorbed in ruin,—­and yet thy clear-convincing voice, rendered imperishable by its faithfulness should have sounded forth in triumph above the foundering wrecks of Time!  O Poet unworthy of thy calling! ...  How thou hast wantoned with the sacred Muse! ... how thou hast led her stainless feet into the mire of sensual hypocrisies, and decked her with the trumpery gew-gaws of a meaningless fair speech!—­How thou hast caught her by the virginal hair and made her chastity the screen for all thine own licentiousness! ...  Thou shouldst have humbly sought her benediction,—­thou shouldst have handled her with gentle reverence and patient ardor,—­from her wise lips thou shouldst have learned how best to practice those virtues whose praise thou didst evasively proclaim, ... thou shouldst have shrined her, throned her, worshiped her, and served her, . . yea! ... even as a sinful man may serve an Angel who loves him!”

Ah, what a strange, cold thrill ran through Theos as he heard these last words!  ’As a sinful man may serve an Angel who loves him!’ How happy the man thus loved! ... how fortunate the sinner thus permitted to serve! ...  Who was he? ...  Could there be any one so marvellously privileged?  He wondered dimly,—­and a dull, aching pain throbbed heavily in his brows.  It was a very singular thing too, that he should find himself strongly and personally affected by Khosrul’s address to Sah-luma, yet such was the case, ... so much so, indeed, that he accepted all the Prophet’s reproaches as though they applied solely to his own past life!  He could not understand his emotion, ... nevertheless he kept on dreamily regretting that things were as Khosrul had said, ... that he had not fulfilled his vocation,—­and that he had neither been humble enough nor devout enough nor unselfish enough to deserve the high and imperial name of poet.