One only of the three thousand and ten wore not the same aspect
as his crowned brethren; a star, smaller than the rest, and less
luminous. The countenance of this star was not impressed with
the awful calmness of the others; but there were sullenness and
discontent upon his mighty brow.

And this star said to himself--"Behold, I am created less
glorious than my fellows, and the archangel apportions not to me
the same lordly destinies. Not for me are the dooms of kings and
bards, the rulers of empires, or, yet nobler, the swayers and
harmonists of souls. Sluggish are the spirits and base the lot
of the men I am ordained to lead through a dull life to a
fameless grave. And wherefore?--Is it mine own fault, or is it
the fault which is not mine, that I was woven of beams less
glorious than my brethren? Lo! when the archangel comes, I will
bow not my crowned head to his decrees. I will speak, as the
ancestral Lucifer before me: _he_ rebelled because of his glory,
_I_ because of my obscurity; _he_ from the ambition of pride,
and _I_ from its discontent."

And while the star was thus communing with himself, the upward
heavens were parted as by a long river of light, and adown that
stream swiftly, and without sound, sped the archangel visitor of
the stars; his vast limbs floated in the liquid lustre, and his
outspread wings, each plume the glory of a sun, bore him
noiselessly along; but thick clouds veiled his lustre from the
eyes of mortals, and while above all was bathed in the serenity
of his splendor, tempest and storm broke below over the children
of the earth: