ut a dreamer, a dreamer.'

'A dreamer, sire! Believe me, a true son of Israel, and one whose faith
is deep.'

'Good Jabaster, we are all true sons of Israel. Yet let me have
men about me who see no visions in a mid-day sun. We must beware of
dreamers.'

'Dreams are the oracles of God.'

'When God sends them. Very true, Jabaster. But this Abidan and the
company with whom he consorts are filled with high-flown notions,
caught from old traditions, which, if acted on, would render government
impracticable; in a word, they are dangerous men.'

'The very flower of Israel! Some one has poisoned your sacred ear
against them.'

'No one, worthy Jabaster. I have no counsellor except yourself. They may
be the flower of Israel, but they are not the fruit. Good warriors, bad
subjects: excellent means, by which we may accomplish greater ends.
I'll have no dreamers in authority. I must have practical men about
me, practical men. See how Abner, Asriel, Ithamar, Medad, see how these
conform to what surrounds them, yet invincible captains, invincible
captains. But then they are practical men, Jabaster; they have eyes
and use them. They know the difference of times and seasons. But this
Abidan, he has no other thought but the rebuilding of the temple: a
narrow-souled bigot, who would sacrifice the essence to the form. The
rising temple soon would fall again with such constructors. Why, sir,
what think you, this same Abidan preached in the camp against my entry
into what the quaint fanatic chooses to call "Babylon," because he had
seen what he calls a vision.'

'There was a time your Majesty thought not so ill of visions.'

'Am I Abidan, sir? Are other men to mould their conduct or their
thoughts by me? In this world I stand alone, a being of a different
order from yourselves, incomprehensible even to you. Let this matter
cease. I'll hear no more and have heard too much. To-morrow at council.'

The high priest withdrew in silence.

'He is gone; at length I am alone. I cannot bear the presence of these
men, except in action. Their words, even their looks, disturb the still
creation of my brooding thought. I am once more alone, and loneliness
hath been the cradle of my empire. Now I do feel inspired. There needs
no mummery now to work a marvel.

'The sceptre of Solomon! It may be so. What then? Here's now the sceptre
of Alroy. What's that without his mind? The legend said that none should
free our people but he who bore the scep