have consigned Him
unto a mountain [Maku], not one of whose inhabitants is worthy of
mention.... With Him, which is with Me, there is no one except him who is
one of the Letters of the Living of My Book. In His presence, which is My
Presence, there is not at night even a lighted lamp! And yet, in places
[of worship] which in varying degrees reach out unto Him, unnumbered lamps
are shining! All that is on earth hath been created for Him, and all
partake with delight of His benefits, and yet they are so veiled from Him
as to refuse Him even a lamp!"

What of Baha'u'llah, the germ of Whose Revelation, as attested by the Bab,
is endowed with a potency superior to the combined forces of the Babi
Dispensation? Was He not--He for Whom the Bab had suffered and died in such
tragic and miraculous circumstances--made, for nearly half a century and
under the domination of the two most powerful potentates of the East, the
object of a systematic and concerted conspiracy which, in its effects and
duration, is scarcely paralleled in the annals of previous religions?

"The cruelties inflicted by My oppressors," He Himself in His anguish has
cried out, "have bowed Me down, and turned My hair white. Shouldst thou
present thyself before My throne, thou wouldst fail to recognize the
Ancient Beauty, for the freshness of His countenance is altered and its
brightness hath faded, by reason of the oppression of the infidels. I
swear by God! His heart, His soul, and His vitals are melted!" "Wert thou
to hear with Mine ear," He also declares, "thou wouldst hear how 'Ali [the
Bab] bewaileth Me in the presence of the Glorious Companion, and how
Muhammad weepeth over Me in the all-highest Horizon, and how the Spirit
[Jesus] beateth Himself upon the head in the heaven of My decree, by
reason of what hath befallen this Wronged One at the hands of every
impious sinner." "Before Me," He elsewhere has written, "riseth up the
Serpent of wrath with jaws stretched to engulf Me, and behind Me stalketh
the lion of anger intent on tearing Me in pieces, and above Me, O My
Well-Beloved, are the clouds of Thy decree, raining upon Me the showers of
tribulations, whilst beneath Me are fixed the spears of misfortune, ready
to wound My limbs and My body." "Couldst thou be told," He further
affirms, "what hath befallen the Ancient Beauty, thou wouldst flee into
the wilderness, and weep with a great weeping. In thy grief, thou wouldst
smite thyself on the head, and cry