and
he who from the height of his bunting and trestles would have put a
glamour of beauty and morality on battles; and he, the attitudinizer,
who brings to life the memory of the dead only to deny with word
trickery the terrible evidence of death, he who rewards the martyrs
with the soft soap of false promises--all these people tell lies, lies,
lies! Through their words I can hear the mental reservation they are
chewing over--"Around us, the deluge; and after us, the deluge." Or
else they do not even lie; they see nothing and they know not what they
say.

They have opened the red barrier. Applause and congratulations cross
each other. Some notabilities come down from the rostrum, they look at
me, they are obviously interested in the wounded soldier that I am,
they advance towards me. Among them is the intellectual person who
spoke first. He is wagging the white head and its cauliflower curls,
and looking all ways with eyes as empty as those of a king of cards.
They told me his name, but I have forgotten it with contempt. I slip
away from them. I am bitterly remorseful that for so long a portion of
my life I believed what Boneas said. I accuse myself of having
formerly put my trust in speakers and writers who--however learned,
distinguished, famous--were only imbeciles or villains. I fly from
these people, since I am not strong enough to answer and resist
them--or to cry out upon them that the only memory it is important to
preserve of the years we have endured is that of their loathsome horror
and lunacy.

* * * * * *

But the few words fallen from on high have sufficed to open my eyes, to
show me that the Separation I dimly saw in the tempest of my nights in
hospital was true. It comes down from vacancy and the clouds, it takes
form and it takes root--it is there, it is there; and the indictment
comes to light, as precise and as tragic as that row of faces!

Kings? There they are. There are many different kinds of king, just
as there are different gods. But there is one royalty everywhere, and
that is the very form of ancient society, the great machine which is
stronger than men. And all the personages enthroned on that
rostrum--those business men and bishops, those politicians and great
merchants, those bulky office-holders or journalists, those old
generals in sumptuous decorations, those writers in uniform--they are
the custodians of the highest law and its exec