And each went his own way, now that the sober light of day had failed--tired or gay. For being contrary, a portion of them never really lived till the sun set, and then like moths at a candle--having some vague notion of the gloriousness of light. There in his great palace, turreted, God-built (before the powers of Hell and Heaven had separated, to play the “Human” game on Lucifram), embowered in trees of Paradise, pearl-glistening fountains, the heaven-taught song of birds, and the deep rocks of Hell on the Planet side leading down by steepest paths to that “Silent Forest” with its gurgling streams of pain, and heavy foliage, and deadly paths, and unheard sighs, and the low quivering cry of the heart-broken--there in his dusky palace, glittering with light, subdued and softly shaded, lives the great Prince of Lucifram within easy reach of his little serfdom. You see that glistening sheen of mist, silver, and pearl? That is his web--he, the Great Spider--godlike. See how it wraps around the whole great planet! Put your jewelled hand upon that flimsy net; how awkwardly it sticks to the gold intricacies! How awkwardly it sticks--like the blood on Bluebeard’s key--flimsy as driven snow and striking to the bone. Draw your hand away! Ah! laughing innocence, there is no terror--it has chilled and deadened--a powerful anesthetic that makes you brave, even when it sticks--and it does stick so awkwardly. He loves the night. ’Twas he who helped to plan it--before our worlds were made--the master-mind. The “Great Unknown” for certain unbelievers. Such a proud retreat, as only ostrich brain would share with them. Why the Great Unknown? To _know_ it, must you feel it, handle it, decompose it--experiment with it? Oh, sad presumption! There was once a little ant with a very clever brain (for its size), and one day it thought it would like to find out what a man was like--in what respect he differed from an ant. So it went out and crept on to one--quite an ordinary kind of man, with a skin. Experiment No. 1 must be with the mouthpiece, for it had no finer instrument. The man made a vigorous and violent search--his finger and thumb did the rest, for he resented vulgar intrusion. Moral:--No, allow me, you are quite wrong--yet remain good-tempered. I was not measuring God’s superiority by man’s.