Ardath: The Story of a Dead Self Part 30

he said lightly--"And thus wilt them hold up the most tasteless portions of the whole for the judgment of the public! 'Tis the manner of thy craft,--yet see!"--and with a dexterous movement of his arm he threw the fruit-peel through the window far out into the garden beyond--"There goes thy famous criticism!" and he laughed.. "And those that taste the fruit itself at first hand will not soon forget its flavor! Nevertheless I hope indeed that thou wilt strive to slaughter me with thy blunt paper sword! I do most mirthfully relish the one-sided combat, in which I stand in silence to receive thy blows, myself unhurt and tranquil as a marble G.o.d whom ruffians rail upon! Do I not pay thee to abuse me? ... here, thou crusty soul!--drink and be content!"--And with a charming condescension he handed a full goblet of wine to his cantankerous Critic, who accepted it ungraciously, muttering in his beard the necessary words of thanks for his master's consideration,--then, turning to Theos, the Laureate continued:

"And thou, my friend, what dost thou think of 'Nourhalma' so far? Hath it not a certain exquisite smoothness of rhythm like the ripple of a woodland stream clear-winding through the reeds? ... and is there not a tender witchery in the delineation of my maiden-heroine, so warmly fair, so wildly pa.s.sionate? Methinks she doth resemble some rich flower of our tropic fields, blooming at sunset and dead at moonrise!"

Theos waited a moment before replying. Truth to tell, he was inwardly overcome with shame to remember how wantonly he had copied the description of this same Nourhalma! ... and plaintively he wondered how he could have unconsciously committed so flagrant a theft! Summoning up all his self-possession, however, he answered bravely.

"Thy work, Sah-luma, is worthy of thyself! ... need I say more? ...

Thou hast most aptly proved thy claim upon, the whole world's grat.i.tude, ... such lofty thoughts, . . such n.o.ble discourse upon love,--such high philosophy, wherein the deepest, dearest dreams of life are grandly pictured in enduring colors,--these things are gifts to poor humanity whereby it MUST become enriched and proud! Thy name, bright soul, shall be as a quenchless star on the dark brows of melancholy Time, . . men gazing thereat shall wonder and adore,--and even _I_, the least among thy friends, may also win from thee a share of glory! For, simply to know thee,--to listen to thy heaven-inspired utterance, might bring the most renownless student some reflex of thine honor! Yes, thou art great, Sah-luma! ... great as the greatest of earth's gifted sons of song!--and with all my heart I offer thee my homage, and pride myself upon the splendor of thy fame!"

And as the eager, enthusiastic words came from his lips, he beheld Sah-luma's beautiful countenance brighten more and more, till it appeared mysteriously transfigured into a majestic Angel-face that for one brief moment startled him by the divine tenderness of its compa.s.sionate smile! This expression, however, was transitory,--it pa.s.sed, and the dark eyes of the Laureate gleamed with a merely serene and affectionate complacency as he said:

"I thank thee for thy praise, good Theos!--thou art indeed the friendliest of critics! Hadst thou THYSELF been the author of 'Nourhalma' thou couldst not have spoken with more ardent feeling! Were Zabastes like thee, discerningly just and reasonable, he would be all unfit for his vocation,--for 'tis an odd circ.u.mstance that praise in the public news-sheet does a writer more harm than good, while ill-conditioned and malicious abuse doth very materially increase and strengthen his reputation. Yet, after all, there is a certain sense in the argument,--for if much eulogy be penned by the cheap scribes, the reading populace at once imagine these fellows have been bribed to give their over-zealous approval, or that they are close friends and banquet-comrades of the author whom they arduously uphold, . . whereas, on the contrary, if they indulge in bitter invective, flippant gibing, or clumsy satire, like my amiable Zabsastes here..." and he made an airy gesture toward the silent yet evidently chafing Critic, .."(and, mark you!-HE is not bribed, but merely paid fair wages to fulfil his chosen and professed calling)--why, thereupon the mult.i.tude exclaim--'What! this poet hath such enemies?--nay, then, how great a genius he must be!"--and forthwith they clamor for his work, which, if it speak not for itself, is then and only then to be deemed faulty, and meriting oblivion. 'Tis the People's verdict which alone gives fame."

"And yet the people are often ignorant of what is n.o.blest and best in literature!" observed Theos musingly.

"Ignorant in some ways, yes!" agreed Sah-luma--"But in many others, no!

They may be ignorant as to WHY they admire a certain thing, yet they admire it all the same, because their natural instinct leads them so to do. And this is the special gift which endows the uncultured ma.s.ses with an occasional sweeping advantage over the cultured few,--the superiority of their INSTINCT. As in cases of political revolution for example,--while the finely educated orator is endeavoring by all the force of artful rhetoric to prove that all is in order and as it should be, the mob, moved by one tremendous impulse, discover for themselves that everything is wrong, and moreover that nothing will come right, unless they rise up and take authority, . . accordingly, down go the thrones and the colleges, the palaces, the temples, and the law-a.s.semblies, all like so many toys before the resistless instinct of the people, who revolt at injustice, and who feel and know when they are injured, though they are not clever enough to explain WHERE their injury lies. And so, as they cannot talk about it coherently, any more than a lion struck by an arrow can give a learned dissertation on his wound, they act, . . and the heat and fury of their action upheaves dynasties! Again,--reverting to the question of taste and literature,--the mob, untaught and untrained in the subtilties of art, will applaud to the echo certain grand and convincing home-truths set forth in the plays of the divine Hyspiros,--simply because they instinctively FEEL them to be truths, no matter how far they themselves may be from acting up to the standard of morality therein contained.

The more highly cultured will hear the same pa.s.sages unmoved, because they, in the excess of artificially gained wisdom, have deadened their instincts so far, that while they listen to a truth p.r.o.nounced, they already consider how best they can confute it, and prove the same a lie! Honest enthusiasm is impossible to the over-punctilious and pedantic scholar,--but on the other hand, I would have it plainly understood that a mere brief local popularity is not Fame, . . No! for the author who wins the first never secures the last. What I mean is, that a book or poem to be great, and keep its greatness hereafter, must be judged worthy by the natural instinct of PEOPLES. Their decision, I own, may be tardy,--their hesitation may be prolonged through a hundred or more years,--but their acceptance, whether it be declared in the author's life-time or ages after his death, must be considered final. I would add, moreover, that this world-wide decision has never yet been, and never will be, hastened by any amount of written criticism,--it is the responsive beat of the enormous Pulse of Life that thrills through all mankind, high and low, gentle and simple,--its great throbs are slow and solemnly measured,--yet if once it answers to a Poet's touch, that Poet's name is made glorious forever!"

He spoke with a rush of earnestness and eloquence that was both persuasive and powerful, and he now stood silent and absorbed, his dreamy eyes resting meditatively on the ma.s.sive bust of the immortal personage he called Hyspiros, which smiled out in serene, cold whiteness from the velvet-shadowed shrine it occupied. Theos watched him with fascinated and fraternal fondness, . . did ever man possess so dulcet a voice, he thought? ... so grave and rich and marvellously musical, yet thrilling with such heart-moving suggestions of mingled pride and plaintiveness?

"Thou art a most alluring orator, Sah-luma!" he said suddenly--"Methinks I could listen to thee all day and never tire!"

"I' faith, so could not I!" interposed Zabastes grimly. "For when a bard begins to gabble goose-like plat.i.tudes which merely concern his own vocation, the G.o.ds only know when he can be persuaded to stop! Nay, 'tis more irksome far than the recitation of his professional jingle--for to that there must in time come a merciful fitting end, but, as I live, if 'twas my custom to say prayers, I would pray to be delivered from the accursed volubility of a versifier's tongue! And perchance it will not be considered out of my line of duty if I venture to remind my most ill.u.s.trious and renowned MASTER--" this with a withering sneer,--"that if he has any more remarkable nothings to dictate concerning this particularly inane creation of his fancy 'Nourhalma,' 'twill be well that we should proceed therewith, for the hours wax late and the sun veereth toward his House of Noon."

And he spread out fresh slips of papyrus and again prepared his long quill.

Sah-luma smiled, as one who is tolerant of the whims of a hired buffoon,--and, this time seating himself in his ebony chair, was about to commence dictating his Second Canto when Theos, yielding to his desire to speak aloud the idea that had just flashed across his brain said abruptly:

"Has it ever seemed to thee, Sah-luma, as it now does to me, that there is a strange resemblance between thy imaginative description of the ideal 'Nourhalma,' and the actual charms and virtues of thy strayed singing-maid Niphrata?"

Sah-luma looked up, thoroughly astonished, and laughed.

"No!--Verily I have not traced, nor can I trace the smallest vestige of a similarity! Why, good Theos, there is none!--not the least in the world,--for this heroine of mine, Nourhalma, loves in vain, and sacrifices all, even her innocent and radiant life, for love, as thou wilt hear in the second half of the poem,--moreover she loves one who is utterly unworthy of her faithful tenderness. Now Niphrata is a child of delicate caprice ... she loves ME,--me, her lord,--and methinks I am not negligent or undeserving of her devotion! ... again, she has no strength of spirit,--her timorous blood would freeze at the mere thought of death,--she is more p.r.o.ne to play with flowers and sing for pure delight of heart than perish for the sake of love! 'Tis an unequal simile, my friend!--as well compare a fiery planet with a twinkling dewdrop, as draw a parallel between the heroic ideal maid 'Nourhalma'--and my fluttering singing-bird, Niphrata!"

Theos sighed involuntarily,--but forcing a smile, let the subject drop and held his peace, while Sah-luma, taking up the thread of his poetical narrative, went on reciting. When the story began to ripen toward its conclusion he grew more animated, ... rising, he paced the room as he declaimed the splendid lines that now rolled gloriously one upon another like deep-mouthed billows thundering on the sh.o.r.e,--his gestures were all indicative of the fervor of his inward ecstasy,--his eyes flashed,--his features glowed with that serene, proud light of conscious power and triumph that rests on the calm, wide brows of the sculptured Apollo,--and Theos, leaning one arm in a half-sitting posture, contemplated him with a curious sensation of wistful eagerness and pa.s.sionate pain, such as might be felt by some forgotten artist mysteriously permitted to come out of his grave and wander back to earth, there to see his once-rejected pictures hung in places of honor among the world's chief treasures.

A strange throb of melancholy satisfaction stirred his pulses as he reflected that he might now, without any self-conceit, at least ADMIRE the poem!--since he had decided that was no longer his, but another's, he was free to bestow on it as much as he would of unstinting praise!

For it was very fine,--there could be no doubt of that, whatever Zabastes might say to the contrary,--and it was not only fine, but intensely, humanly pathetic, seeming to strike a chord of pa.s.sion such as had never before been sounded,--a chord to which the world would be COMPELLED to listen,--yes,--COMPELLED! thought Theos exultingly,--as Sah-luma drew nearer and nearer the close of his dictation ... The deep quiet all around was so heavy as to be almost uncomfortable in its oppressiveness,--it exercised a sort of strain upon the nerves ...

Hark! what was that? Through the hot and silent air swept a sullen surging noise as of the angry shouting of a vast mult.i.tude,--then came the fast and furious gallop of many horses,--and again that fierce, resentful roar of indignation, swelling up as it seemed from thousands of throats. Moved, all three at once, by the same instinctive desire to know what was going on, Theos, Sah-luma, and Zabastes sprang from their different places in the room, and hurried out on the marble terrace, das.h.i.+ng aside the silken awnings as they went in order the better to see the open glimpses of the city thoroughfares that lay below. Theos, leaning far out over the western half of the bal.u.s.trade, was able to command a distant view of the great Square in which the huge white granite Obelisk occupied so prominent a position, and, fixing his eyes attentively on this spot, saw that it was filled to overflowing with a dense ma.s.s of people, whose white-raimented forms, pressed together in countless numbers, swayed restlessly to and fro like the rising waves of a stormy sea.

Lifted above this troubled throng, one tall, dark figure was distinctly outlined against the dazzling face of the Obelisk--a figure that appeared to be standing on the back of the colossal Lion that lay couchant beneath. And as Theos strained his sight to distinguish the details of the scene more accurately, he suddenly beheld a glittering regiment of mounted men in armor, charging straightly and with cruelly determined speed, right into the centre of the crowd, apparently regardless of all havoc to life and limb that might ensue.

Involuntarily he uttered an exclamation of horror at what seemed to him so wanton and brutal an act, when just then Sah-luma caught him eagerly by the arm,--Sah-luma, whose soft, oval countenance was brilliant with excitement, and in whose eyes gleamed a mingled expression of mirth and ferocity.

"Come, come, my friend!" he said hastily--"Yonder is a sight worth seeing! 'Tis the mad Khosrul who is thus entrenched and fortified by the mob,--as I live, that sweeping gallop of His Majesty's Royal Guards is magnificent! They will seize the Prophet this time without fail!

Aye, if they slay a thousand of the populace in the performance of their duty! Come!--let us hasten to the scene of action--'twill be a struggle I would not miss for all the world!"

He sprang down the steps of the loggia, accompanied by Theos, who was equally excited,--when all at once Zabastes, thrusting out his head through a screen of vine-leaves, cried after them:

"Sah-luma!--Most ill.u.s.trious! What of the poem? It is not finished!"

"No matter!" returned Sah-luma--"'Twill be finished hereafter!"

And he hastened on, Theos treading close in his footsteps and thinking as he went of the new enigma thus proposed to puzzle afresh the weary workings of his mind. HIS poem of Nourhalma--or rather the poem he had fancied was his--had been entirely completed down to the last line; now Sah-luma's was left "TO BE FINISHED HEREAFTER."

Strange that he should find a pale glimmering of consolation in this!--a feeble hope that perhaps after all, at some future time, he might be able to produce a few, a very few lines of n.o.ble verse that should be deemed purely original! ... enough perchance, to endow him with a faint, far halo of diminished glory such as plodding students occasionally win, by following humbly yet ardently ... even as he now followed Sah-luma ... in the paths of excellence marked out by greater men!

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE FALL OF THE OBELISK.

In less time than he could have imagined possible, he found himself in the densely crowded Square, buffeting and struggling against an angry and rebellious mob, who half resentful and half terrified, had evidently set themselves to resist the determined charge made by the mounted soldiery into their midst. For once Sah-luma's appearance created no diversion,--he was pushed and knocked about as unceremoniously as if he were the commonest citizen of them all, He seemed carelessly surprised at this, but nevertheless took his hustling very good humoredly, and, keeping his shoulders well squared forced his way with Theos by slow degrees through the serried ranks of people, many of whom, roused to a sort of frenzy threw themselves in front of the advancing horses of the guard, and seizing the reins held on to these like grim death, reckless of all danger.

As yet no weapons were used either by the soldiers or the populace,--the former seemed for the present contented to simply ride down those who impeded their progress,--and that they had done so in terrible earnest was plainly evident from the numbers of wounded creatures that lay scattered about on every side in an apparently half dying condition. Yet there was surely a strange insensibility to suffering among them all, inasmuch as in spite of the contention and confusion there were no violent shrieks of either pain or fury,--no exclamations of rage or despair,--no sound whatever indeed, save a steady, sullen, monotonous snarl of opposition, above which the resonant voice of the Prophet Khosrul rang out like a silver clarion.

"O people doomed and made desolate!" he cried.. "O nation once mighty, brought low to the dust of destruction! Hear me, ye strong men and fair women!--and you, ye poor little children who never again shall see the sun rise on the thousand domes of Al-Kyris! Lift up the burden of bitter lamentation!--lift it up to the Heaven of Heavens, the Throne of the All-Seeing Glory, the Giver of Law, the Destroyer of Evil! Weep!

... weep for your sins and the sins of your sons and your daughters--cast off the jewels of pride,--rend the fine raiment, ...

let your tears be abundant as the rain and dew! Kneel down and cry aloud on the great and terrible Unknown G.o.d--the G.o.d ye have denied and wronged,--the Founder of worlds, who doth hold in His Hand the Sun as a torch, and scattereth stars with the fire of His breath! Mourn and bend ye all beneath the iron stroke of Destiny!--for know ye not how fierce a thing has come upon Al-Kyris? ... a thing that lips cannot utter nor words define,--a thing more horrible than strange sounds in thick darkness,--more deadly than the lightning when it leaps from Heaven with intent to slay! O City stately beyond all cities! Thy marble palaces are already ringed round with a river of blood!--the temples of thy knowledge wherein thy wise men have studied to exceed all wisdom, begin to totter to their fall,--thou shalt be swept away even as a light heap of ashes, and what shall all thy learning avail thee in that brief and fearful end! Hear me, O people of Al-Kyris!--Hear me and cease to strive among yourselves, ... resist not thus desperately the King's armed minions, for to them I also speak and say,--Lo! the time approaches when a stronger hand than that of the mighty Zephoranim shall take me prisoner and bear me hence where most I long to go!

Peace, I command you! ... in the Name of that G.o.d whose truth I do proclaim ... Peace!"

As he uttered the last word an instantaneous hush fell upon the crowd,--every head was turned toward his grand, gaunt, almost spectral figure; and even the mounted soldiery reined up their plunging, chafing steeds and remained motionless as though suddenly fixed to the ground by some powerful magnetic spell. Theos and Sah-luma took immediate advantage of this lull in the conflict, to try and secure for themselves a better point of vantage, though there was much difficulty in pressing through the closely packed throng, inasmuch as not a man moved to give them pa.s.sage-room.

Presently, however, Sah-luma managed to reach the nearest one of the two great fountains, which adorned either side of the Obelisk, and, springing as lightly as a bird on its marble edge, he stood erect there, his picturesque form presenting itself to the view like a fine statue set against the background of sun-tinted foaming water that dashed high above him and sprinkled his garments with drops of sparkling spray. Theos at once joined him, and the two friends, holding each other fast by the arm, gazed down on the silent, mighty mult.i.tude around them,--a huge concourse of the citizens of Al-Kyris, who, strange as this part of their behavior seemed, still paid no heed to the presence of their Laureate, but with pale, rapt faces and anxious, frightened eyes, riveted their attention entirely on the sombre, black-garmented Prophet whose thin ghostly arms, outstretched above them, appeared to mutely invoke in their behalf some special miracle of mercy.

"See you not".. whispered Sah-luma to his companion,--"how yon aged fool wears upon his breast the Symbol of his own Prophecy? 'Tis the maddest freak to thus display his death-warrant!--Only a month ago the King issued a decree, warning all those whom it might concern, that any one of his born subjects presuming to carry the sign of Khosrul's newly invented Faith should surely die! And that the crazed reprobate carries it himself makes no exemption from the rule!"

Theos shuddered. His eyes were misty, but he could very well see the Emblem to which Sah-luma alluded,--it was the Cross again! ... the same sacred Prefigurement of things "to come," according to the perplexing explanation given by the Mystic Zuriel whom he had met in the Pa.s.sage of the Tombs, though to his own mind it conveyed no such meaning. What was it then? ... if not a Prototype of the future, was it a Record of the Past? He dared not pursue this question,--it seemed to send his brain reeling on the verge of madness! He made no answer to Sah-luma's remark,--but fixed his gaze wistfully on the tall, melancholy Shape that like a black shadow darkened the whiteness of the Obelisk,--and his sense of hearing became acute almost to painfulness when once more Khosrul's deep vibrating tones peeled solemnly through the heavy air.

"G.o.d speaks to Al-Kyris!" and as the Prophet enunciated these words with majestic emphasis a visible thrill ran through the hushed a.s.semblage.. "G.o.d saith: Get thee up, O thou City of Pleasure, from thy couch of sweet wantonness,--get thee up, gird thee with fire, and flee into the desert of forgotten things! For thou art become a blot on the fairness of My world, and a shame to the brightness of My Heaven!--thy rulers are corrupt,--thy teachers are proud of heart and narrow in judgment,--thy young men and maidens go astray and follow each after their own vain opinions,--in thy great temples and holy places Falsehood abides, and Vice holds court in thy glorious palaces.

Wherefore because thou hast neither sought nor served Me, and because thou hast set up gold as thy G.o.d, and a mult.i.tude of riches as thy chief good, lo! now mine eyes have grown weary of beholding thee, and I will descend upon thee suddenly and destroy thee, even as a hill of sand is destroyed by the whirlwind,--and thou shalt be known in the land of My creatures no more! Woe to thee that thou hast taken pride in thy wisdom and learning, for therein lies thy much wickedness! If thou wert truly wise thou wouldst have found Me,--if thou wert n.o.bly learned thou wouldst have understood My laws,--but thou art proved altogether gross, foolish, and incapable,--and the studies whereof thou hast boasted, the writings of thy wise men, the charts of sea and land, the maps of thy chief astronomers, the engraved tablets of learning, in gold, in silver, in ivory, in stone, thy chronicles of battle and conquest, the doc.u.ments of thine explorers in far countries, the engines of thine invention whereby thou dost press the lightning into thy service, and make the air respond to the messages of thy kings and councillors,--all these shall be thrust away into an everlasting silence, and no man hereafter shall be able to declare that such things have ever been!"

Here the speaker paused,--and Theos, surveying the vast listening crowds, fancied they looked like an audience of moveless ghosts rather than human beings,--so still, so pallid, so grave were they, one and all. Khosrul continued in softer, more melancholy accents, that, while plaintive, were still singularly impressive.

"O my ill-fated, my beloved fellow-countrymen!" he exclaimed, extending his arms with a vehemently pleading gesture as though in the excess of emotion he would have drawn all the people to his heart.--"Ye unhappy ones? ... have I not given ye warning? Have I not bidden ye beware of this great evil which should come to pa.s.s?--Evil for which there is no remedy,--none,--neither in the earth, nor the sea, nor the invisible comforts of the air! ... for G.o.d hath spoken, and who shall contradict the thunder of His voice! Behold the end is at hand of all the pleasant things of Al-Kyris,--the feasting and the musical a.s.semblies, the cymbal-symphonies and the choir-dances, the labors of students and the triumphs of sages,--all these shall seem but the mockery of madness in the swift-descending night of overwhelming destruction! Woe is me that ye would not listen when I called, but turned every man to his own devices and the following after idols? Nay now, what will ye do in extremity?--Will ye chant hymns to the Sun? Lo, he is deaf and blind for all his golden glory, and is but a taper set in the window of the sky, to be extinguished at G.o.d's good pleasure! Will ye supplicate Nagaya? O fools and desperate!--how shall a brute beast answer prayer!--Vain, vain is all beseeching,--shut forever are the doors of escape,--therefore cover yourselves with the garments of burial,--prepare each one his grave and rich funeral things,--gather together the rosemary and myrrh, the precious ointments and essences, the strings of gold and the jewelled talismans whereby ye think to fight against corruption,--and fall down, every man in his own wrought hollow in the ground, face turned to earth and die--for Death hath broken through the strong gates of Al-Kyris, and hath taken the City Magnificent captive unknowingly! Alas, alas! that ye would not follow whither I led,--that ye would not hearken to the Vision of the Future, dimly yet gloriously revealed! ... the Future! ... the Future!" ...

He broke off suddenly, and raising his eyes to the deep blue sky above him, seemed for a moment as though he were caught up in the cloud of some wondrous dream. Still the enormous throng of people stood hushed and motionless,--not a word, not a sound escaped them,--there was something positively appalling in such absolute immobility,--at least it appeared so to Theos, who could not understand this dispa.s.sionate behavior on the part of so large and lately excited a mult.i.tude. All at once a voice marvellously tender, clear, and pathetic trembled on the silence,--was it, could it be the voice of Khosrul? Yes! but so changed, so solemn, so infinitely sweet, that it might have been some gentle angel speaking:

"Like a fountain of sweet water in the desert, or the rising of the moon in a gloomy midnight," he said slowly,--"Even so is the hope and promise of the Supremely Beloved! Through the veiling darkness of the coming ages His Light already s.h.i.+nes upon my soul! O blessed Advent!

... O happy Future! ... O days when privileged Humanity shall bridge by Love the gulf between this world and Heaven! What shall be said of Him who cometh to redeem us, O my foreseeing spirit! What shall be told concerning His most marvellous Beauty? Even as a dove that for pity of its helpless younglings doth battle soft-breasted with a storm, even so shall He descend from out His glory sempiternal, and teach us how to conquer Sin and Death,--aye, even with the meekness of a little child He shall approach, and choose His dwelling here among us. O heavenly Child! O wisdom of G.o.d contained in innocence! ... happy the learning that shall learn from Thee!--n.o.ble the pride that shall humble itself before Thy gentleness! [Footnote: The idea of a Saviour who should be born as Man to redeem the world was prevalent among all nations and dates from the remotest ages. Coming down to what must be termed quite a modern period compared to that in which the city of Al-Kyris had its existence, we find that the Romans under Octavius Caesar were wont to exclaim at their sacred meetings, "The times FORETOLD BY THE SYBIL are arrived; may a new age soon restore that Saturn? SOON MAY THE CHILD BE BORN WHO SHALL BANISH THE AGE OF IRON?" Tacitus and Suetonius both mention the prophecies "in the sacred books of the priests" which declare that the "East shall be in commotion," and that "MEN FROM JUDEA" shall subject "everything to their dominion."] O Prince of Manhood and Divinity entwined! Thou shalt acquaint Thyself with human griefs, and patiently unravel the perplexities of human longings!--to prove Thy sacred sympathy with suffering, Thou shalt be content to suffer,--to explain the mystery of Death, Thou shalt even be content to die. O people of Al-Kyris, hear ye all the words that tell of this Wonderful, Inestimable King of Peace,--mine aged eyes do see Him now, far, far off in the rising mist of unformed future things!--the Cross--the Cross, on which His Man's pure Life dissolves itself in glory, stretches above me in spreading beams of light! ... Ah! 'tis a glittering pathway in the skies whereon men and the angels meet and know each other! He is the strong and perfect Spirit, that shall break loose from Death and declare the insignificance of the Grave,--He is the lingering Star in the East that shall rise and lighten all spiritual darkness--the unknown, unnamed Redeemer of the World, ... the Man-G.o.d Saviour that SHALL COME?"

"SHALL come?" cried Theos, suddenly roused to the utmost pitch of frenzied excitement, and p.r.o.nouncing each word with loud and involuntary vehemence ... "Nay! ... for He HAS come! HE DIED FOR US, AND ROSE AGAIN FROM THE DEAD MORE THAN EIGHTEEN HUNDRED YEARS AGO!"

A frightful silence followed,--a breathless cessation of even the faintest quiver of sound. The mighty ma.s.s of people, apparently moved by one accord, turned with swift, stealthy noiselessness toward the audacious speaker, ... thousands of glittering eyes were fixed upon him in solemnly inquiring wonderment, while he himself, now altogether dismayed at the effect of his own rash utterance, thought he had never experienced a more awful moment! For it was as though all the skeletons he had lately seen in the Pa.s.sage of the Tombs had suddenly clothed themselves with spectral flesh and hair and the shadowy garments of men, and had advanced into broad daylight to surround him in their terrible lifeless ranks, and wrench from him the secret of an after-existence concerning which THEY were ignorant!