wraps about them and deadens them. Religion
passes them by. The Unseen holds for them
neither terror nor delight. They are unaware of
the Unseen; and the full belly and the evening

[{HERE AND THERE I FOUND LITTLE SPOTS WHERE A FAIR MEASURE OF
HAPPINESS REIGNED."}]

pipe, with their regular arf an arf, is all they
demand, or dream of demanding, from existence.

This would not be so bad if it were all; but it is
not all. The satisfied torpor in which they are
sunk is the deadly inertia that precedes dissolution.
There is no progress, and with them not to progress
is to fall back and into the Abyss. In their own

[[44]]

p043 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p044w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p045

v?