ious ones lonely and
abandoned, in their malice, bitter as gall in their wrathful fire, in
impotent fury, were transfixed and turned to stone and in their dark
interior their last, their expiring consciousness is lost, those are
the cliffs, the stony rocks, the deep masses of granite, which reach
far into the centre of the earth and still rise up in defiance over
clouds and vapour: that is the flesh and bone of the arrogants that the
earth is now compelled to bind together as with a cramp iron. Then
malice, wrath and discontent as if extinct; Yea, the flame expired,
when it should have nourished itself. Was it lost, departed love
recovering itself again, which would collect and burst from its
powerless state. Figures move in the sea, in the air, and on the earth,
and all persecute, hate, kill one another; bloodthirstiness is delight,
lacerations, tearing asunder, martyrdom and devourings of one another
are raiment and food. Yea, malice is now for the first time awakened
into life, if it contracts and unites itself with the sentiment of
love, thou hoary darkness of the primeval rocks, and as a lighted brand
penetrates into the bones of the snuffing lions and tigers, and roars
in the waterfall, that crumbles the mountains and thirst in the fiery
torrent, that greedily eats its way to the stream and siding with his
brother, the storm, swallows up woods and fields, and mocking as dead
spits forth from itself the former existence as dead, cold as ashes."

Edmond turned away with indignation, and said: "Woe to thee slanderous
tongue that in perverted folly takest upon thee to disfigure the most
holy, and inspirest superstitious rage."

"Why are you thus unjust?" said Lacoste smiling, "it affords me
inexpressible pleasure to hear for once so cool and impartial a
philosopher reason thus conclusively. One does not meet every day with
anything so good." The others became outrageous, and were still more
fervent in their prayers. Ravanel foamed and continued crying out: "But
how pious is the world, how mildly the brand still searches into the
bowels of all! Then man came forth, the image of God, as he calls
himself, and now in him hell first broke out in glowing, purple
triumph, the loud joyful laugh of inward horror. Whatever subtilty can
invent, imagination create, the wildest dream depict, and
voluptuousness can attain, will turn into martyrdom, into cutting off
the beings that give themselves out as their brother. All the puls