Like Eternity itself! For one can't conceive a vocal Eternity. An
enormous silence, in which there was nothing to connect one with the
Universe but the incessant wheeling about of the sun and other celestial
bodies, the alternation of light and shadow, eternally chasing each other
over the sky. The time of the earth, though most carefully recorded by
the half-hourly bells, did not count in reality.
It was a special life, and the men were a very special kind of men. By
this I don't mean to say they were more complex than the generality of
mankind. Neither were they very much simpler. I have already admitted
that man is a marvellous creature, and no doubt those particular men were
marvellous enough in their way. But in their collective capacity they
can be best defined as men who lived under the command to do well, or
perish utterly. I have written of them with all the truth that was in
me, and with an the impartiality of which I was capable. Let me not be
misunderstood in this statement. Affection can be very exacting, and can
easily miss fairness on the critical side. I have looked upon them with
a jealous eye, expecting perhaps even more than it was strictly fair to
expect.
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