276 A SUNDAY IN CHEYNE ROW. 



nestness of infinite battle against infinite labor. Our 

 highest religion is named the * Worship of Sorrow.' 

 For the Son of Man there is no noble crown, well 

 worn or even ill worn, but is a crown of thorns." 

 His own worship is a kind of defiant admiration of 

 Eternal Justice. He asks no quarter, and will give 

 none. He turns upon the grim destinies a look as 

 undismayed and as uncompromising as their own. 

 Despair cannot crush him ; he will crush it. The more 

 it bears on, the harder he will work. The way to get 

 rid of wretchedness is to despise it ; the way to con- 

 quer the devil is to defy him ; the way to gain heaven 

 is to turn your back upon it, and be as unflinching as 

 the gods themselves. Satan may be roasted in his own 

 flames ; Tophet may be exploded with its own sulphur. 

 " Despicable biped ! " (Teufelsdrokh is addressing 

 himself.) " What is the sum total of the worst that 

 lies before thee ? Death ? Well, death ; and say the 

 pangs of Tophet too, and all that the devil and man 

 may, will, or can do against thee ! Hast thou not a 

 heart ? Canst thou not suffer whatso it be, and as a 

 child of freedom, though outcast, trample Tophet it- 

 self under thy feet while it consumes thee ? Let it 

 come, then ; I will meet it and defy it." This is the 

 * Everlasting No " of Teufelsdrokh, the annihilation 

 of self. Having thus routed Satan with his own 

 weapons, the "Everlasting Yea" is to people his 

 domain with fairer forms ; to find your ideal in the 

 world about you. "Thy condition is but the stuff 

 thou art to shape that same ideal out of ; what mat> 



