“Why, in the name of all the gods, should they be raised?” demanded Sah-luma impatiently—­“If their choice is to grovel in mire, why ask them to dwell in a palace?—­They would not appreciate the change!”

“Again,” went on Theos—­“there are others who are only happy in the pursuit of wisdom, and the more they learn, the more they seek to know.  One wonders, . . one cannot help wondering.. are their aspirations all in vain? ... and will the grave seal down their hopes forever?”

Sah-luma paused a moment before replying.

“It seems so ...” he said at last slowly and hesitatingly ...  “And herein I find the injustice of the matter,—­because however great may be the imagination and fervor of a poet for instance, he never is able wholly to utter his thoughts.  Half of them remain in embryo, like buds of flowers that never come to bloom, . . yet they are there, burning in the brain and seeming too vast of conception to syllable themselves into the common speech of mortals!  I have often marvelled why such ideas suggest themselves at all, as they can neither be written nor spoken, unless...” and here his voice sank into a dreamy softness, “unless indeed they are to be received as hints, . . foreshadowings.. of greater works destined for our accomplishment, hereafter!”

He was silent a minute’s space, and Theos, watching him wistfully, suddenly asked: 

“Wouldst thou be willing to live again, Sah-luma, if such a thing could be?”

“Friend, I would rather never die!”—­responded the Laureate, half playfully, half seriously..  “But.. if I were certain that death was no more than a sleep, from which I should assuredly awaken to another phase of existence, ..I know well enough what I would do!”

“What?” questioned Theos, his heart beginning to beat with an almost insufferable anxiety.

“I would live a different life now!” answered Sah-luma steadily, looking his companion full in the eyes as he spoke, while a grave smile shadowed rather than lightened his features.  “I would begin at once, . . so that when the new Future dawned for me, I might not be haunted or tortured by the remembrance of a misspent Past!  For if we are to believe in any everlasting things at all, we cannot shut out the fatal everlastingness of Memory!” His words sounded unlike himself...his voice was as the voice of some reproving angel speaking,—­and Theos, listening, shuddered, he knew not why, and held his peace.

“Never to be able to forget!” continued Sah-luma in the same grave, sweet tone ...  “Never to lose sight of one’s own bygone wilful sins, . . this would be an immortal destiny too terrible to endure!  For then, inexorable Retrospection would forever show us where we had missed the way, and how we had failed to use the chances given us, . . moreover, we might haply find ourselves surrounded...” and his accents grew slower and more emphatic.. “by