from the
temple in their turn, and put the priests in his place. He is
crucified on every crucifix.

Yonder among the fields are churches, demolished by war; and already
men are coming with mattock and masonry to raise the walls again. The
ray of his outstretched arm shines in space, and his clear voice says:

"Build not the churches again. They are not what you think they were.
Build them not again."

* * * * * *

There is no remedy but in them whom peace sentences to hard labor, and
whom war sentences to death. There is no redress except among the
poor.

* * * * * *

White shapes seem to return into the white room. Truth is simple.
They who say that truth is complicated deceive themselves, and the
truth is not in them. I see again, not far from me, a bed, a child, a
girl-child, who is asleep in our house; her eyes are only two lines.
Into our house, after a very long time, we have led my old aunt. She
approves affectionately, but all the same she said, very quietly, as
she left the perfection of our room, "It was better in my time." I am
thrilled by one of our windows, whose wings are opened wide upon the
darkness; the appeal which the chasm of that window makes across the
distances enters into me. One night, as it seems to me, it was open to
its heart.

_I_--my heart--a gaping heart, enthroned in a radiance of blood. It is
mine, it is _ours_. The heart--that wound which we have. I have
compassion on myself.

I see again the rainy shore that I saw before time was, before earth's
drama was unfolded; and the woman on the sands. She moans and weeps,
among the pictures which the clouds of mortality offer and withdraw,
amid that which weaves the rain. She speaks so low that I feel it is
to me she speaks. She is one with me. Love--it comes back to me.
Love is an unhappy man and unhappy woman.

I awake--uttering the feeble cry of the babe new-born.

All grows pale, and paler. The whiteness I foresaw through the
whirlwinds and clamors--it is here. An odor of ether recalls to me the
memory of an awful memory, but shapeless. A white room, white walls,
and white-robed women who bend over me.

In a voice confused and hesitant, I say:

"I've had a dream, an absurd dream."

My hand goes to my eyes to drive it away.

"You struggled while you were delirious--especially when you thought
you were falling," says a calm voice to me