Restoration Of A Cult Having Eroded My Quality As A Man, Nothing Is Any Longer Of Any Value. Everywhere All I See Are Animals With An Ideal That Herd Together To Bleat Their Hopes. . . . Even Those Who Did Not Live Together Are Constrained To Do So Like Ghosts, Or Else To What End Have We Conceived The “communion” Of Saints? In Pursuit Of A True Solitary, I Scrutinize The Ages, And I find There, And Envy There, Only The Devil. . . . Rea- Son Banishes Him, The Heart Craves Him. . . . Spirit Of Lies, Prince Of Darkness, The Evil One, The Enemy—how Sweet It Is To Murmur The Names That flayed His Solitude! And How I Cherish Him Since His Daily Relegation! If Only I Could Re-establish Him In His Primal State! I Believe In Him With All My Incapacity To Believe. His Company Is Necessary To Me: A Lonely Being Tends Toward The Loneliest Being—toward The One. . . . I Owe It To Myself To Tend Toward Him: My Power To Adrnire—fearing To Remain Unemployed—compels Me To It. Behold Me Confronting My Model; Attaching Myself To Him, I Punish My Solitude For Not Being Total, I Forge Out Of It Another Which Transcends It: It Is My Way Of Being Humble. . . . We Replace God As Best We Can; For Every God Is Good, Provided He Perpetuates In Eter- Nity Our Desire For A Crucial Solitude. . . .