Fame heard the voice of her votary, and came out to place upon his brow her greenest bays and brightest laurels, and bid him welcome to her palace; but when she saw the deathly whiteness of his face, she shrank back in pity and fear. The light was fading from his eye; his limbs had lost their manly strength; and Fame feared that the torpor of Death would overtake him before she could crown him as her honored guest. She bent down her ear to the sufferer, and heard him whisper slowly, “Peace! Peace!” Then said Fame to her servants, “Descend to the vale, bring the best medical skill ye can find, and search for Peace, and entreat her to come; tell her that one of my votaries lies near to death, and longs for her presence.” The servants descended to the vale, and soon returned, bringing with them a celebrated physician.—Peace had heard the cry of Shalmanezer, and had entered the room with her companion before the doctor had come. When the physician saw Shalmanezer, he gazed anxiously upon him, felt the fluttering pulse, and chafed the pale cold hands to restore the warmth and circulation. In the meantime, Pleasure and Wealth having heard the story of Shalmanezer’s illness, entered the room. “There is but one thing,” said the physician, “can save Shalmanezer’s life: some one must take the warm healthy blood from his veins and inject it into Shalmanezer’s veins before he can be restored to health.” Pleasure and Wealth looked aghast when they heard the doctor’s prescription. Pleasure suddenly remembered that she had a pressing engagement; Wealth said “I am no longer young, nor even well, and am sure I have not one drop of blood to spare;” Fame pitied her faithful votary, but amid the cold blasts that swept around her home, was sure it would be very imprudent for her to attempt to part with so much blood. Just as Pleasure, Wealth and Fame had refused to give the needed aid, Desire entered the room, but when he heard the conditions for the restoration of Shalmanezer, shrank back in selfish dismay, and refused also. As Shalmanezer lay gasping for breath, and looking wistfully at his old companions, Peace, attended by Self-Denial, drew near the sick man’s couch. Shalmanezer opened his eyes languidly, and closed them wearily; when life was like a joyous dream, he had repulsed Peace and utterly hated Self-Denial, and what could he dare hope from either in his hour of dire extremity. While he lay with his eyes half-closed, Self-Denial approached the bedside, and baring his arm, said to the doctor: “Here is thy needed remedy. Take the blood from these veins, and with it restore Shalmanezer to health and strength.”