oughts aloud, with the conviction and force
of an orator who knows the truth of which he speaks:

"The Universe is upheld solely by the Law of Love. A majestic invisible
Protectorate governs the winds, the tides, the incoming and outgoing of
the seasons, the birth of the flowers, the growth of forests, the
outpourings of the sunlight, the silent glittering of the stars. A wide
illimitable Beneficence embraces all creation. A vast Eternal Pity
exists for all sorrow, all sin. He who first swung the planets in the
air, and bade them revolve till Time shall be no more--He, the
Fountain-Head of Absolute Perfection, is no deaf, blind, capricious, or
remorseless Being. To Him the death of the smallest singing-bird is as
great or as little as the death of a world's emperor. For Him the
timeless withering of an innocent flower is as pitiful as the decay of
a mighty nation. An infant's first prayer to Him is heard with as
tender a patience as the united petitions of thousands of worshippers.
For in everything and around everything, from the sun to a grain of
sand, He hath a portion, small or great, of His own most Perfect
Existence. Should He hate His Creation, He must perforce hate Himself;
and that Love should hate Love is an impossibility. Therefore He loves
all His work; and as Love, to be perfect, must contain Pity,
Forgiveness, and Forbearance, so doth He pity, forgive, and forbear.
Shall a mere man deny himself for the sake of his child or friend? and
shall the Infinite Love refuse to sacrifice itself--yea, even to as
immense a humility as its greatness is immeasurable? Shall we deny
those merciful attributes to God which we acknowledge in His creature,
Man? O my Soul, rejoice that thou hast pierced the veil of the Beyond;
that thou hast seen and known the Truth! that to thee is made clear the
Reason of Life, and the Recompense of Death: yet while rejoicing,
grieve that thou art not fated to draw more than a few souls to the
comfort thou hast thyself attained!"

Fascinated by the speaker's voice and countenance, I listen, straining
my ears to catch every word that falls from his lips. He rises; he
stands erect; he stretches out his hands as though in solemn entreaty.

"Azul!" he exclaims. "Messenger of my fate; thou who art a guiding
spirit of the elements, thou who ridest the storm-cloud and sittest
throned on the edge of the lightning! By that electric spark within me,
of which thou art the Twin Flame, I ask of thee to