,,the ,,forgotten ,,threshold ,a ,journal of ,arthur ,middleton ,,to ,w4,s4,b4 ,,for ,,substantial ,,embodiment ,,prefatory ,,note ,before ,arthur ,middleton died he gave me this record among others in the belief that it would help to tell me what he had always known in the silences1 yet could never in life transmute into the friendly counters of speech4 ,during the last years of his all too brief experience of his friends1 more than once he shyly sought to tell what he knew1 yet always silence claimed him1 and nothing but the wonder of his eyes revealed the dream that consumed his heart4 ,because beauty claims these words in a deeper knowledge than we had before1 ,i have transcribed this fragment of them here1 confident that in these white intuitions of his youth there is a revelation of the ,light behind beauty beyond our poor knowledge and still poorer faith4 ,i have omitted only what was most sacred to the privacies of his heart and our affection4 ,he was of the old faith and would have wished had he published these pages to have expressed his entire and passionate loyalty to the ,roman ,catholic ,church in faith and deed1 and to have disclaimed any word therein which conflicted with the intimacies of its truth4 ,i can do no more than to echo his wish1 and mourn the unhappy chance which took him from us on an ,april tide1 though it befell on the ,easter that he loved and at that hour when the flaming symbol of the ,divine ,sacrifice was setting in the west4 ,so the passion of the sun and tide which reflected his belief witnessed the consummation of his great desire4--,,the ,,editor4 ,,the ,,forgotten ,,threshold ,,the ,,journal 7,n4,b4--,on the opening pages of the blank book in which this journal is contained there is a short fragment which bears no relation that ,i can discover to the entries that follow1 and ,i am inclined to believe that it is the beginning of an autobiography which ,middleton never continued4 ,in my uncertainty1 however1 ,i print it1 and accordingly it is transcribed below4--,,the ,,editor47 ,fragment4--,i was not more than three years old when the sunlight first made me happy as it stole through the curtains and over the coverlet till it kissed my lips and wrapped me in its warm embrace4 ,then ,i would fall asleep again and my dreams1 if ,i dreamed at all1 were white and faintly stirred me to a smile4 ,i never tried to catch the sunbeams1 for ,i felt their gold in my heart1 nor could they have been nearer than they were1 being associated with my mother's watchfulness as she stole in to smile upon my slumbers and claim the second silent unconscious kiss4 ,on ,sunday morning they would be freighted with a quiet whiter light1 more peaceful and hushed to the feeling of the day1 and somehow the peace was guarded with finger on lip throughout the house1 so that it was implicit in my nest of images long before reason took note of it or sought to explain it to my consciousness4 ,once again as a boy of fifteen ,i knew it with a catch of delighted and almost tearful surprise when ,i stroked the breast of a wounded pigeon who found shelter in my room4 ,the world is not as quiet in these days1 nor is the hum of traffic in the mart attuned so kindly to the flow of light as when it ran so gently by the bedside of the dreaming boy4 444 7,the journal now follows1 written in a small cramped hand1 without paragraphing or division4 ,i omit the first few entries as purely personal4 ,middleton had gone to a group of remote western islands1 and these notes are the fruit of his sojourn there47--,,the ,,editor4 ,july #e4 ,yesterday found me on the island with its silences1 and last night the host was red and sacrificial and rode on a thunder cloud4 ,this afternoon the planets go singing through my flesh and my song of praise has widened to the arches of the sun4 ,the sea is moaning slowly on the sand4 ,i stripped to the cool salt air for the first time4 444 ,walking ,i found my way out on the long gray dunes4 ,july #f4 ,on the dunes today with my mother4 ,my hand swept idly over the soft white sand1 shifting the order of many thousands of starry worlds4 ,what a chord of music if one could but hear it in its entirety6 ,as it was1 ,i caught wonderful echoes that would light the beauties of many a sunrise4 ,the silent man reminds me of ,synge in his drifting life and the fires glowing in his eyes4 ,today ,i saw the-beauty of a flower4 444 ,some day ,i shall write a play about the stars4 ,the action will burn in their seedtime and blow on the winds of ,fate with all its ironies4 444 ,tonight in the sitting room ,i heard in my heart the singing of the sands4 ,it is on the shifting desert1 ,i feel1 that we shall discover the secret origin of language4 ,how the infinitely aspiring music must sound tonight along the dunes6 ,july #g4 ,the night before last after ,i retired ,i felt that lifted feeling physically which represents the beating of the tides4 ,last night it coalesced with the singing of the sands4 ,at ,mass this morning the voices at the ,credo thundered out ,et ,homo factus est in a torrent of living sound4 ,at the elevation ,i saw a thin white flame rise from the uplifted chalice and disappear4 ,it takes a beam of light one hundred and eight years to travel from ,arcturus to the earth4 ,are we similar traveling beams1 and is death merely our arrival on another planet which we illumine8 ,today ,i read aloud on the cliffs from the glories of ,plato's ,phaedrus4 ,july #h4 ,in the morning ,i wandered onto the dunes leading out toward ,wonder ,island1 but was driven off by the terns who were nesting4 444 ,the billows of the wind today mingled in me with the sands and the tide1 so that ,i experienced from a new angle ,landor's ,we are what suns and winds and waters make us4 444 ,july #i4 ,my life will see much traveling4 ,july #aj4 ,morning on the dunes4 ,a cold clear bath while mists drove over the sands4 ,returning home1 as ,i came to the deep sand on the road1 ,i perceived the mystery of the resurrection of the body4 ,in death there is no physical decay4 ,the singing planets of the human body merely part to combine in other songs1 recurring again in the end to their old disposal and song1 exchanging other worlds for their own once more1 and recurring to the first motif of the symphony4 ,i was sad this afternoon for the will failed me in my work4 ,sitting on the sand this morning the singing dunes had attained to the harmony of silence4 ,all at once a little wisp of seaweed--hardly more than a thread--started to beat time upon the sands4 ,and then ,i knew and saw it to be in its happy beating the pulse that governed the music of the stars4 ,can the heart conduct the symphony of the body8 ,tonight the sun set1 borne away--a ,grail--by angels from the questing ,galahad4 ,there was a great silence in my heart as ,i sat in the crowded room4 ,july #aa4 ,a day of northeast wind and upward thunder4 ,the joy of the wind was in me1 and ,i lost the sense of space4 ,the air was so buoyant that it was closely kin to the sea4 444 ,today ,i succeeded a little better with my will4 ,i had a strange sensation this afternoon1 which told me that bare lonely places are the only places to write drama1 since there only can we find the pure dynamic forces of life disentangled from the subtle and complicated web of human ambitions and interests4 ,the air was very thin and clear at twilight1 but the sun was hidden in the clouds4 444 ,july #ab4 444 ,there was a great silence this evening in the crowded room4 ,closing my eyes1 ,i raised the upper lids as far as possible without seeing material things1 and so saw myself in fearful wonder elevating the host and chalice on high4 ,i know now the inner meaning of ,domine1 non sum dignus ut intres sub tecta mea4 ,under these two arched roofs of the eyes hidden from all light save ,light1 there is a secret dwelling4 444 ,a day of close-shrouded palling fog--a chrism confirming the strength of beauty4 ,july #ac4 ,this morning the wind blew through the fields of grass like countless angels in the courts of heaven4 ,shadow and color and light and movement dancing before the first syllable of the ,name4 ,a gull flew down almost to my hand1 and the sunlight thundered in my ears4 ,last night the sea was sadly purifying the earth4 ,i now understand the ,washer of the ,ford4 ,majesty lies in darkness1 and grief is only the privilege of seeing ,majesty4 ,today on the porch with closed eyes buried in my hands the winds swept over me in a torrent of living light4 ,a symphony is a wonderful symbol4 ,in the first place1 it is music4 ,in the second place1 it is a name of praise with four syllables4 ,then it completes a cycle1 and returns on a higher plane to the motif with which it began4 ,it is the history of a soul1 and in its last movement typifies the resurrection of the body1 by means of this very return1--a return to the order and disposal in which it was created and which it now reassumes to praise its ,creator for all eternity by the harmony of the original ,thought4 ,i looked at twilight into the tiny white heart of a flower that grew among the grasses1 and out of the heart pulsed the ,sacred ,body in wounds all glorified1 with ,hands outstretched conducting the music of the worlds4 ,i know now that the flower was a chalice4 ,the sadness of it cannot die as the ,man can1 and ,i know that it is with me ready to be shared4 ,as ,i write this1 there is a mist within my room4 ,i always sleep now like one ready to soar4 ,in the crowded room tonight ,i felt myself making the movements of swimming1 as if the air were water and ,i an expert swimmer4 ,july #ad4 ,views of the unveiled heavens alone forth bring ,prophets who cannot sing4 ,a day of tempestuous wind and rain with all the keen dynamic life of time poised 'mid eternities4 ,the happiest of my days battling with the elements in wonderful silences4 ,at ,mass with wonder the shining of the ,host4 ,my eyes were veiled from the chalice1 but ,i felt two angels --guarding the acolytes4 ,again at the ,credo the thunder of ,et ,homo factus est4 ,with ,shelley in the afternoon and a perilous walk on the cliffs4 444 ,i am gaining in detachment4 ,the desire and passion for solitude grows and ,i meditate a winter on the islands4 ,how unworthy ,i am to partake of mysteries6 ,they fill me with fear1 for it is hard for the body to live in eternity4 ,in the evening with ,gordon ,craig4 ,is he right about masks8 ,a mask is a symbol1 but a face may be a sacrament4 ,the ,mass1 after all1 is the supreme dream and drama of the world4 ,sadness is majesty1 as ,i found the other night1 and majesty is always impenetrable1 for it is a secret full of awe and mysterious silence4 ,tonight ,i see that great drama1 whether it be a tragedy or no1 must reveal time poised in infinity4 ,beauty1 ,i think1 contains everything save the human will1 and it is the ideal of the will to be thus contained and of beauty to be the container4 444 ,in the supreme drama of ,gethsemane and ,calvary1 ,christ used the human body as the supreme visible instrument of drama4 ,july #ae4 444 ,tonight the fog broke through the sunset and scattered gold across the sea4 ,clouds hung over the cliffs4 444 ,i prayed through the sunset1 and won a victory for the will4 ,july #af4 ,last night in the darkness ,i learned many things4 ,the human will is the unit1 the core of flame which binds all elements together4 ,it is sad because it is the force of impact tearing things from their detached and comfortable places and placing them in new relations4 ,it is the magnet1 the summoning voice1 our own conscience1 the expression of ,majesty4 ,it disposes reluctant and conflicting notes in harmony4 ,and we have control of it given into our hands4 ,and then1 too1 ,i learnt that words are worlds4 ,at every breath1 nay1 by the slightest thought1 we create planets4 ,pray that they harmonize6 ,they have power4 ,are they angels8 ,they convey our messages1 but their harmony of inter-woven song and meaning was lost at ,babel to our ears4 ,yet by them if our will is strong and we do not fail in deeds we may take our part in the symphony as truly as life itself4 ,and so we must not use them idly4 ,how can anyone dare to tell a lie8 ,one begins to see how ,god is a ,name4 ,i felt before how the secret of language was to be found among the sands4 ,it is because the sands are the nearest and most visible planets we possess4 ,words are planets4 ,but planets are sands on the shore of eternity4 ,words are sands4 ,we are little words made flesh1 little echoes in the image of the great ,word made ,flesh4 ,his creation is the complete echo made flesh1 ,his ,image and likeness which ,he contemplates4 ,and so we are in our measure part of the song made flesh1 and the little common words that we use are our brothers4 ,july #ag4 ,the sunset tonight was a glorious crucifixion after the day of clouds4 ,it was human in its beckoning4 ,i cannot find the secret of the moon1 but it reminds me of ,lionel's phrase1 if it be his1 golden mediocrities4 ,is it the astral embodiment of ,they also serve who only stand and wait8 ,why is it that the little human beauties of ,nature pass me by as entities1 and that ,i seek bare places8 ,is there a parallel in my personal attitude toward all but those who are specially dear to me8 ,i thought of how ,i looked down on the city from the mountain in ,may1 and felt the whole city to be my prayer4 ,it had been given into my control for a few minutes1 and the only worthy use to which ,i could put it was to offer it up with a prayer for my people and all the desire of my heart that the prayer would be answered4 ,the half-million souls with all their dreams were under my care then1 and their acts were mine4 ,so little are cities1 and so little ,i found my worthiness that ,i could not hide my tears4 ,later ,i crossed to the height looking down on the cemetery1 the world was silent save for the flaming heart of the city pulsing below1 and reflecting the ,flaming ,heart above as the sun set4 ,the woodpeckers did not fear me1 and ,i sank slowly and deeply into ,god4 ,i think that some day ,i shall know ,his wounds4 ,i cannot understand why ,i was delivered from temptation at the moment that the city was put into my hands4 ,july #ah4 444 ,i bathed on the dunes on ,wonder ,island4 ,the sun set tonight sacramentally just as it set that night at ---- when ,i failed to speak4 ,never had ,i felt stronger1 but something held me back from telling him how the dearest wish of my life was that he should participate in the ,holy ,eucharist4 ,the flame was in my hands to lay upon his heart1 but something bade me wait4 ,i distrusted it1 and asked him to walk with me on the shore4 ,the thunder of the tide and the moon were too strong4 ,why could ,i not have told him8 ,we were silent for hours while his heart lay with the ,titanic1 and even his little daughter was quiet in the room4 ,july #ai4 ,the stars are the dust rubbed off from human souls4 ,dust unto dust thou shalt return4 ,at the last judgment1 they will fly together in an angelic hosting1 and clothe once more the souls which moved in them1 and our souls will rule their songs4 ,human suffering is the friction of angels making stars4 444 ,i know now that the end of one's forty days is not complete knowledge1 but only a clear indication of the road4 ,the joy is in that1 and also the sorrow4 ,it is the direction given to the will1 orders to be so carefully obeyed4 ,this is the greatest discovery of all4 ,words do not reveal it4 ,it is absolutely prosaic1 though it is eternal beauty4 ,but what ,i have written does not reflect it even faintly as it seems to me4 ,read ,hello this afternoon4 ,the freedom of the dunes this morning seemed to extend more than is usual4 ,later ,i read from ,plato's ,symposium4 ,july #bj4 444 ,the proverbial symbol of impermanence is writing upon sand4 ,what could be more gloriously permanent8 ,to have one's message spelled out by singing planets1 to write upon the stars4 ,it is so that our songs have immortality4 ,verba scripta manent takes on a majestic significance4 ,are not joy and sadness the same8 ,the only difference is one of rapidity4 ,sadness is made up of the long1 slow1 majestic chords of the song4 ,it seems to me that when a wheel seems to cease motion1 and finally attains a state of motionlessness1 it is perhaps merely turning into a terrible speed which we cannot perceive4 ,it is the turning of an hour-glass4 ,when ,i am dead1 ,i wish only my faults to be chronicled1 for these alone have any value for the world4 ,i have dreamt always of cycles of infinities4 ,as a decimal always tends by evolution towards a number1 so also we evolve toward an infinity4 ,yet at that goal another infinity starts1 as another infinity starts in numbers1--the symbol of patience after all4 ,unto the man of yearning thought ,and aspiration1 to do nought ,is in itself almost an act1-- ,being chasm-fire and cataract ,of the soul's utter depths unseal'd4 ,yet woe to thee if once thou yield ,unto the act of doing nought6 ,read ,hello and ,elia4 ,i am learning how to see in crowds4 ,these past few days ,i have succeeded in withdrawing into life for long periods in the midst of a general conversation1 yet my absence was not noted in the least4 ,out of it ,i hope will develop the ability to be with life always in the tangle and confusion of city circumstance4 ,this afternoon ,i read ,phaedrus aloud on a sunny cliff1 and in the evening read aloud ,keats' ,i stood tiptoe on the green heights in the wind and the rain4 ,rossetti's lines do not forbid a life of contemplation1 but rather encourage it as distinguished from quietism4 444 ,through the summer ,i am to see the ,crucifixion4 ,how ,i envy ,st4 ,francis the ,stigmata6 ,even as a little boy ,i desired them--but ,i shall never be able perhaps to love passionately enough4 ,the nights that ,i cried as a little fellow without knowing why1 just because ,i loved1 were nearer than ,i shall ever be again4 ,july #ba4 ,at ,benediction after ,mass today ,i saw the ,wonder in all ,humanity with ,light surrounding ,it1 and ,i shook with an awful thunder of sound4 444 ,today ,i have been happy to tears1 and in the blue afternoon on the cliffs with my mother1 ,i shared ,endymion and ,epipsychidion4 444 ,i do not understand why silence is spoken of as a precept4 ,to me it is the living attribute of ,god4 444 ,how nobly scornful is ,sir ,aubrey ,de ,vere's phrase1 witless ecstasies6 ,july #bb4 ,simply a day of hard work4 ,but ,i was happy in it4 ,in an odd way ,i felt as ,i wrote all day on the smooth white paper that ,i was stroking the sleek breasts of doves4 ,tonight the steady patter of the rain upon the eaves4 ,july #bc4 ,a day of hard routine work4 444 ,tonight in the inky darkness ,i walked to the postoffice in the thundering wind and rain and surf1 and learned how the deeps can praise the ,lord4 ,i have always felt the wonder of that psalm4 ,july #bd4 ,rose at #d3cj and saw the sun rise a pure and shimmering symbol of the ,host above the silver outline of ,wonder ,island4 ,the day was dumb4 ,a little boy has come whose face is his sacrament4 ,what a song he must sing6 ,i look forward to the morrow as a day of special grace and wonder4 444 ,july #be4 ,it is evident to me that music is wrong before a play or during intermissions4 ,but it is necessary until our dramatists provide some other prelude4 ,that prelude must be a beautiful setting of silence for a few moments showing the protagonist under the light of eternity4 ,in the beginning all words contained a spiritual import1--were angels4 ,at ,babel many fell4 ,now all our spiritual words are material words grown out of their meanings4 ,when expression becomes passion1 it is the passion of creation1 clothing itself in images as ,god does through eternity in the ,passion of ,creation4 ,this is near the heart of life's most awful secret1 but words conceal it except from experience4 ,for ,passion proceeds from ,creation as ,preservation proceeds from both1 though they are all from ,eternity in the ,unity of the ,godhead4 ,all my planets at the contemplation of ,this are dancing before the throne4 ,the thunderous rhythm of their music is shaking me physically like the engines of a steamer in shallow water4 ,every atom struggles against the law of cohesion4 ,god loves the beautiful boy4 ,his name is ,henry ,r----4 ,the ,greeks1 ,emerson says1 called the world ,cosmos1 ,beauty4 ,reading this on the veranda this afternoon1 ,i closed my eyes and sank contentedly into life4 ,when ,i returned the faces were foreign1 and even my mother never knew4 ,on the dunes this morning ,i heard the silence of ,eternity on the edge of time4 ,i think it is a pine forest4 ,babel took away the ,word1 until ,it came to earth1 and in material form took on supreme ,spirit coming from the ,father4 444 ,july #bf4 ,i wish ,i could raise a singing altar of planets by some great sacrifice4 ,my fingers drummed upon the sands this morning a crude and simple rhythm4 ,i thought of its influence in displacing planets1 and of the almost infinite musical variations that were set in motion1 and then ,i compared my crude thrumming with the majestic thunders of the sea1 and realized the insupportable beauty of absolute music4 ,a dog talks by smell4 ,there are vibrations of smell1 as well as of sound or of heat or of light4 ,and the blind reveal vibration of touch1 the holiest of the senses4 ,we talk now by sound1 but are learning to talk by heat and light4 ,when shall we learn to talk by smell and touch8 ,flowers1 too1 talk by smell4 ,there is nothing but vibration in the image of ,god1 for ,,life ,,is ,,nothing ,,more ,,than ,,the ,,trembling ,,of ,,his ,,beauty4 ,the awful speed of ,truth hardens into fact4 ,words must not say more4 ,a dog taught me this1--,prince1 the companion of the silent man4 ,one should be a priest when he marries two ideas4 ,in any one of the planets within the singing tissue of my flesh are ,dantes and ,st4 ,francises4 ,creation requires of us infinite crucifixions which we shall never be able to consummate alone4 ,when ,i lie on my breasts on the sand and bury my face in my hands1 all ,nature receives me as a human bridegroom1 and ,i sink through time to eternity creating space around me1 that widens and narrows to the reaches of immortality4 ,it is always on the sands that ,i find the friendliest depths1 or in the snow drift of cold planets upon a winter day or else within in the terrible energy of my body1 as my heart beats time to the universal spheral rhythm4 ,think of the literal meaning of universal6 ,tonight in the silence ,i read ,prometheus ,bound4 ,i love the grace of the boy's eyes4 ,i pray to be guarded from the pride of humility4 ,july #bg4 ,illustration3 ,circle with a cross through it4 444 ,it was a day of silences4 ,i traced this figure idly on the sand today1 and suddenly understood the symbolism of the scarab4 ,but did the ,egyptians anticipate the ,redemption8 ,as men are impressed by the face of the world1 so is the world impressed by their faces4 ,the face1 as mirror of the soul1 shines forth with electricity and makes an impression on life1 altering the song of those it acts upon as the violin sound alters the formation of sands resting on a tightened drum4 ,by what ancient intuition does the ,latin word malum mean both apple and evil8 ,music creates substance through the speed of gaiety1 and ,god in ,his ,creation is a cosmic humorist4 7,cosmic means beautiful47 ,to distinguish between fascination and sympathy is a counsel of perfection for critics which has its spiritual analogies4 444 ,angels ran in hosts through the grasses4 ,july #bh4 ,his soul's most secret thought1 ,eternal ,light declares4 ,i read ,lionel's poems on the cliffs1 and almost discovered the secret of the blue4 ,today for the first time ,i realized the remoteness of these islands1 and it was a great joy4 ,it was a golden day of sunshine on the cliffs with blue cloudless sky over quiet waters4 ,life is turning inward to the heart of silence1 and out of it will come the beauty of my dream if life is willing4 ,july #bi4 444 ,i met a man today who knew beauty4 ,he was a ,french country lawyer4 444 ,the sunset tonight revealed all the sadness of the ,burning ,babe4 ,i failed today4 ,july #cj4 ,another sadder failure of the will4 ,yet beauty came in the evening4 ,the love of man1 far more the love of ,god1 is ,god in heaven descended upon earth1 eternity made time in beauty1 majestic instancy1 the ,word made ,flesh4 ,the soul is the pool wherein ,god and we see our images1 and ,heaven will be the mutual contemplation of our souls4 ,so that human love is the adoration of ,god in human flesh1 and therein may the beloved be seen as the image of ,god in time4 ,the praise of ,our ,lady should then be the praise of ,god4 ,was this ,patmore's secret8 ,or ,dante's and ,petrarch's8 ,my lady was desired in the high heaven4 444 ,i see now how in ,heaven there is no marriage or giving in marriage4 ,far flowing ramparts of a starry world6 ,the flammantia moenia mundi of ,lucretius4 ,to contemplate ,beauty ,,face ,,to ,,face6 ,what a wonderful proof of the beauty of our souls4 ,twin mirrors of a single singing thought1 the face of man looking into the ,face of ,god1 soul mingling with ,soul in immortal music1 bathed in the cool wind of ,our ,lady's eyes4 ,today ,i lost a nation in the cycle of my soul4 ,what is the blood but the history of my planets as engraved upon the constellations of my flesh8 ,it is the book of the angel of judgment for the first syllable of my song1 as the emotions1 the intellect1 and1 alas1 the will1 for the second1 third1 and fourth4 ,the flesh is the ebb tide from ,god1 as the emotions are the flood4 ,the intellect is the second ebb1 and in the will pray ,god that it may be flood6 ,the other is ,hell4444 ,july #ca4 444 ,a victory for the will this morning4 444 ,tomorrow is the first of ,august1 and ,i shall enter upon my forty days4 ,the ringing in my ears is the ringing of my fleshly stars toned all in ,time4 ,i have commenced an anthology of high imaginings more worthy than a book of essays of that title ,i have loved and desired to use for years1--,flame and ,dew4 ,if rightly done1 it may do poetry one of the greatest of services by assisting it to praise ,beauty on many lips in naked ,light4 ,i wish to consecrate my work on it to that end4 ,today ,i have been influenced by ,frederick ,tennyson1 ,traherne1 and ,patmore4 ,in agony lies the highest music4 ,the key is struck by circumstance1 ,time's organist1 and the stars tremble with music4 ,for the full thundering silence of ,absolute ,beauty a ,divine ,agony was necessary1 so that all ,heaven and its choirs and ,hell trembled in the majesty of this stricken ,doom4 ,death is the final chord1 the passage of our full song from time to the silence of eternity4 ,sleep next to death is the most terrible life that soul and body knows4 ,it is the center of the wheel radiating high powers to the circumference4 ,the speed there is terrific1 so fast that it hardens1 again that majestic instancy4 ,the tiniest flame is the friction of conflicting universes4 ,beauty is alike the center and circumference of infinity1 the silent wheel of omnipresent omnipotence1 wherein all thoughts are not timed but eternal4 ,from eternity we were nothing3 to eternity we are ,beauty's image4 ,is it strange that in sleep we are often given sight8 ,august #a4 ,art is the exhibition of life in the light of eternity4 ,i can conceive of no other adequate critical formula4 ,this applies to painting1 sculpture1 literature and music4 ,such too is the art of life1--the exhibition to ,god and man of life in the light of eternity4 ,i have been startled to find a kinship between ,wordsworth and ,millet4 ,i found it today in a stooped old man who was traveling the roads with a walking stick and a heavy bundle of driftwood4 ,he was worthy of a great painter or a great poet4 ,by the sign of the cross one draws a magic circle round the soul which evil may not penetrate4 ,it places one in the name4 ,on the seashore one should lie parallel with the waves facing inland4 ,then only may one advance onward with their prayer4 ,august #b4 ,it is absolutely true that only music may shape woods and fountains and the beauty of souls1 for it is the only medium of expression which is pure4 ,pure music is the true white magic1 as black magic is music mixed with clay by human hands4 ,naked ,beauty alone may mix music with clay in ,its own image and likeness4 ,even poetry fails save in so far as it echoes the pure natural truths of music4 ,and all creation may flow from a flute if the player breathes a prayer4 ,some day we shall have the great opera of the ,incarnation and ,redemption4 ,it is the ideal goal of music1 and so of all art4 ,but it demands the poet1 the painter1 and the sculptor1 too1 for its actors shall be immortal statues and a living chorus singing the passion of the race against the supreme dawn and the supreme sunset4 ,but its greatest moments will be silence4 ,christ and ,his ,mother will live this silence in the glory of transfigured stone1 and the drama will be played in the open with the stars above as orchestra1 to which the human music will be but a beautiful echo4 ,to this ,wagner and ,craig point the way4 ,i read ,patmore's ,two ,infinities today with bewilderment and emphatic disagreement4 ,it seems absolutely lacking in vision1 provincial1 almost challenging ,creation4 ,and yet it is essentially true4 ,christ was a man of golden mediocrities4 ,he speaks of the lilies of the field1 but never of stars or of planets4 ,and ,st4 ,francis perhaps hints at the solution4 ,to him brother ,wind and brother ,fire and brother ,worm are alike and equal1 for he sees them in the light of infinity4 ,but all are wonderful1 and we must not sneer at the stars4 444 ,today writing as a means of expression has seemed to be absolutely futile4 ,silence is the only active way of praise that ,i can find1 provided that it informs some daily action4 ,my will won again today4 ,horizons are wonderful4 ,s---- told me that ,lionel invited him into his ,oxford rooms one evening at sunset and led him to a seat from which nothing lower than the horizon was to be seen4 ,there1 he said1 nothing matters that is below that line4 ,you see he knew that our souls in their beauty are always above it4 ,august #c4 ,to watch a grass-blade tapping will teach you wonderful music--the language of the wind4 ,the sunlight running through my flesh in-flames the song of the will4 ,i lost myself tonight in the crowded silences4 ,joy stays with me now1 and if ,i can only join it to sorrow1 the will can then sing simply and freely a continuous song4 ,the turning of the tide is soon to come1 and my homesickness for ,g----ville is transforming itself into a different nostalgia4 ,my planets are rising in song like little candle flames4 ,i wish ,i possessed their humility4 ,within me tonight are quiet moonlit waters very full and rich with silent promises of rest4 ,august #d4 ,at ,mass today ,mr4 ,c---- showed a fine courtesy serving with the high humility of a punctilious gentleman4 444 ,today ,i saw the body of ,christ1 infinite riches in a little room4 ,the human body of ,christ in its passion is the sum of all our bodies1 and it is this truth to which pantheism in its blindness dimly beckons4 ,the saints and pure poets and those who have died for friends are the image of the ,sacred ,heart1 and in them at moments of pure reflection there is naked light and the vision which is insupportable4 ,hence in the greatest saints the stigmata4 ,all ,god's lonely ones are the reflections of ,his pain when they attain to sanctity4 ,and holy priests are the reflections of ,his ,hands4 ,little children and saints may look into ,his ,eyes and see their own4 ,and repentant sinners may reflect ,his ,feet in their tears4 ,all the births and lives of the earth go to form ,his ,human ,body1 which is vast as ,eternity and radiating with ,light from all points and inward to the ,heart of ,light4 ,to some saints it has been permitted to be the spouse of this body and soul4 ,magic is white or black4 ,white magic is the offspring of spiritual marriage and is a sacrament4 ,black magic is the offspring of unauthorized spiritual contacts4 ,my frame tonight is possessed by angels dancing before the throne in a fearfully rapid rhythm4 ,the secret of spiritual achievement is unremitting labor urged without ceasing by a fearful joy4 ,no drama is more vast than that of the crucifixion1 and yet ,i have seen it all in the heart of a strawberry blossom with wounds all glorified in an ecstasy of living trembling light1 and heard the beating of ,his ,sacred ,heart while universe called out to universe in the anguish of ,his surrender and all the stars died into the ,light of ,eternity4 ,the tide has turned4 ,august #e4 ,today looking into a narrow dome ,i saw the seeded planets banded by circles of light whereon they turned4 ,and color changed into silence at the bidding of the central suns4 ,and these were the eyes of happy innocence wherein all others died to the ,living ,light1 ,god being in them by their childishness4 ,the tide turned yesterday1 and today ,i have spent entirely in eternity surrounded by a host of fair-winged ,possibilities1 ,god's angels to humanity4 ,death is glorified by their passage from the future to the past1 and we respond by plunging our lights into the ,light wherein it dies4 ,abt ,vogler is the musical philosophy of it all4 ,at my first symphony concert as a little boy1 ,i saw the face of the dying ,christ through the wall1 and in it the music of the seventh ,symphony sang through the naked eyes calling me inward to the ,sacred ,heart4 ,this morning and noon at table ,i smiled at white horizons and in the evening ,i swam through the ,host on my future wings4 ,we love earth1 air1 fire1 and water now1 but the eternal joy of swimming through the ,light of ,god and reflecting ,his ,light in song and silence is the infinity of all poets' dreams incarnate in the awful speed of ,absolute ,music4 ,it is the privilege of laughing into the ,eyes of ,god1 those ,eyes before which the angels veil their faces4 ,it is the privilege of smelling the blossom of the ,living ,rose1 of tasting and consuming forever the ,body and ,blood1 of touching the ,sacred ,knees1 and of hearing the ,divinity who is ,music4 ,priests and poets shall swim in the song of his heart1 and those who have died for friends will reflect its resolving rhythm4 ,how ,i pity ,blake his pride1 though he was preserved from the pride of humility4 ,god will let me see more of ,him in this life than ,blake did1 though it is of the most trifling significance to anticipate eternity in poor time1 the crippled heir of original sin4 ,since it is to be1 ,i wish with all my blood that my will were worthier4 ,august #f4 ,a day of happy drudgery reading proofs4 ,i rode through them in the winds of eternity4 ,that is the secret of it all1--to teach us joy4 ,the human symbol of it is a martyr's ecstasy1 which is in no way sensuous or voluptuous since it has completely forgotten the body4 ,the ,sacred ,heart is the ,mystical ,rose spreading its petals over the ,cross of ,time4 ,in ,flame and ,dew is the first application of an idea and belief that the day will come when anthologies will be books containing the wisdom of the poets on special sciences1 such as the science of childhood1 the science of love1 the science of death1 and the science of silence4 ,august #g4 ,imagination being ,eternal ,life1 it shows the blind instinct of language that the word should mean the creation of images4 ,imagination is the instrument of ,god's creation in his own image and likeness4 ,today ,i came to ,petrarch and ,dante--the mystics of the supreme elements4 ,to contrast their serenity with ,blake's wrath shows the whiter heights4 ,all height is inward through narrow circles to the ,central ,fire of ,silent ,love from which the angels shrink in spiral messages of inspiring flame1 and toward which humanity aspires in narrowing and advancing circles of expiring flesh4 ,but depth is outward to the hearts of men4 ,sirius sings to my living stars tonight its light in the music of the ancient winds1 telling me of the crucifixion in burning colors of a dying world4 ,why am ,i unworthy of an equal death8 ,the blood runs toward it in a passion of harmony4 ,the day is near when my morning stars shall sing their lives out together in praise of their ,creator1 though it is futile to measure it in terms of time4 ,one is not curious of time if one lives in eternity4 ,death is then only the fulfilment of our operative desires4 ,i wish that ,i were one of the tears of ,god4 ,joy is for those of good will4 ,august #h4 ,i met one of ,wordsworth's old men today gathering faggots on the shore4 ,i have been to all places and cities and ,i found no one happy on the world1 and now ,i wish me to be dead4 444 ,tonight ,i bowed in silence under the vault of stars4 ,to be holy is to lose the knowledge of good and evil through clinging ,heaven by the hems4 ,to refuse evil is to refuse the apple 7malum7 of the ,tree of ,knowledge4 ,there is no possibility of finding the ideal unless we look passionately for nothing but the beauty of souls1 seeing therein ,god's image and refusing to perceive the clouds of evil4 ,circles lead to ,heaven1 but straight lines to ,hell4 ,straight lines are the tangents that err from the sphere of the ideal4 ,miss ,c---- told me about a little boy who was visiting ,italy with his mother4 ,he fell down hill1 and stopped before a roadside crucifix4 ,and then he forgot his fall4 ,they found him crying as if his heart would break1 and he told them that it was because he was so sorry for that sad ,man whom everybody had made suffer so4 ,the angels drop seed into our souls which make them invisible to other men1 and we also may plant seed with modesty and humility4 ,it is ,god's fernseed to mortals4 ,how strange it is that we measure time by moons1 cold satellites1 and thus the symbol of death4 ,but after all time is the dark night of the soul4 ,i realized for the first time today that ,i was born in ,december1 the month of creation1 when the flame turns in upon itself in the hard cold earth and gives birth to high hopes whose fulfilment are in eternity4 ,it is the month of ,christmas on that account4 ,i have begun to perceive what awful wings my thoughts have1 and know that they are given them by ,god through me to carry them humbly into the most secret circle of the ,sacred ,breast4 ,we must do the labor of ,god with human hands1 yet the ,labor of ,god is the ,creation of ,beauty4 ,as the vegetable kingdom renews its life once a year through time and so preserves its secret1 our souls must renew themselves in infinite recurrence through eternity4 ,our life differs only in ardor which is speed4 ,the greatest speed lies in submission1 for submission is the greatest strength4 ,at high moments it is ,atlas supporting the earth4 ,at the supreme moment1 it becomes the mystery of the ,redemption4 ,august #i4 ,singing through the universal stars that were woven into ,his ,flesh1 ,i saw the ,son of ,god tonight glorified in the joy of a living ,smile4 ,and all the angels bowed laughing toward ,him and clapped and danced before ,his ,name1 though the sum of their song was silence4 ,and then every living star was scourged by the sins of men1 and died into the darkness1 saying ,thy ,will be done1 and it was morning with the ,eucharist in the sky4 ,only ,redemption trembled through the air4 ,the stars are the eternal reflections of ,god's patience1 for they endure ,his ,human ,passion1 since together they form the shadow of the ,word made ,flesh4 ,they are the singing echo in time of ,god's speechless patience1 as we are destined to be if we conquer our wills4 ,but patience is suffering1 and ,alpha must submit to the yoke of ,omega4 ,since ,god is the ,alpha and ,omega he caused the ,incarnation and ,passion4 ,,the ,,ideal ,,of ,,human ,,life ,,is ,,the ,,passionate ,,redemption ,,of ,,the ,,will4 ,this is life's darkest secret1 unless we live in the ,eucharist4 ,we are to be the silent reflections of speechless patience in the still waters of eternity4 ,the evil came when ,lucifer stole fire from heaven and brought it down to men4 ,conquer fire1 and we conquer the will4 ,then heaven is ours4 ,my body and blood ache with my prayer for it4 ,august #aj4 ,the angels weave what ,god creates1 according to their functions4 ,his archangels are the weavers of time1 and all the others of material nature1 uninformed by a soul4 ,this is a branch of the heavenly song4 ,to weave ,god's image is the function of the saints and of all those on earth4 ,it is the wonder of incarnate ,music that saved the world1 ,absolute ,silence born into ,sound1 and dying with all ,sound into ,silence4 ,the archangels are ,god's messengers of life and death1 for they control the days4 ,but they are sent from ,him to ,his ,image1 and our weaving is made out of their materials as we adapt them to our song4 ,all outer powers and forces are brought us by the angels1 and among the dearest to ,god's heart are his flame-winged ,possibilities that hover on the borderline between today and tomorrow1 ,time and ,eternity4 ,they alone may not enter time unless we beckon them4 ,the starry heaven is the heaven of the body2 the crystal sphere1 of the intellect2 and the empyrean1 of the pure soul4 ,we may live in the starry heaven in this life1 if ,god gives us the grace4 ,but it is then a heaven of desire4 ,but the weaving of the angels is the whole philosophy of nature4 ,their music explains its sympathies and sorrows1 its deaths and resurrections1 and above all its solemn silences of night and noon4 ,and the song of their weaving becomes nature's love of wisdom1 that is to say1 adoration of the ,word4 ,the saints are the only complete philosophers4 ,the object of asceticism is generally misunderstood1 particularly in one phase of its endeavors1--to forget the body4 ,the truth of the matter is that the flesh and blood in their highest song toward which we should strive are so occupied with praising ,god that they completely lack self-consciousness1 and do not distract the intellect or the will4 ,god is with them in naked purity4 ,it is ,his simplest and dearest starry music4 ,he demands that our life should be a programme of infinite proportions4 ,and yet ,i wonder if a saint can ever be both a great prophet and a great apostle4 ,i do not believe a great prophet can be tender enough to persuade4 ,that is why prophets are scorned or ignored by their generation4 ,gentleness is the absolute breath of music1 which alone can penetrate the soul or even the material body of nature4 ,the supreme gentleness of ,st4 ,francis of ,assisi made the birds listen to his music1 for his breath ran dancing in a cool breeze through all their singing stars4 ,we need a ,st4 ,francis at present burningly4 ,is it possible to form a religious order of the poets8 ,here is an ideal4 ,but it must be ,franciscan3 a gown1 a girdle1 and sandals1 poverty1 chastity1 and obedience4 ,where is the wise man to obey8 ,i can believe that jewels are potent for good or evil1 since they are condensed flame and a secret word lies hidden in each of their hearts4 ,a day of tempestuous wind and rain4 ,august #aa4 ,today ,i found myself progressing slowly to a triumphant rhythm round the circumference of a vast musical plane4 ,the celestial earth is flat but progresses upwards to its central point1 the cone of aspiration and song4 ,and then ,i remembered the vision of ,st4 ,frances of ,rome wherein she saw the ,supreme ,godhead as a vast ,circle of ,light in the midst of which was a ,pillar1 the ,cone of ,redemption and ,silence4 ,death is the point of meeting4 ,perhaps the ,zodiac is the merry-go-round of the stars4 ,a second day of tempest4 ,the great message of future poetry will be to proclaim that nature is the expression of man1 rather than man of nature1 and thus to reveal the essential nobility of man as the image of ,god rather than the image of nature4 ,suns and winds and waters are what we make them4 ,pantheism confuses the image of the image with the face4 ,nature is the mirror of man as man is the mirror of ,god4 ,nay more1 nature is the mirror in time of man's eternity1 as man is the image in time and eternity of ,god4 ,it is for this reason that the stars are the open book of the future1 though they are not to be read by men aloud4 ,astrology is forbidden because it violates the precept of silence1 which is the courtesy we pay as gentlemen to ,god4 ,we may only read the stars in little children's eyes1 wherein their future is concealed4 ,the breast of ,mary is the fountain of the stars1 and round it fly the seraphim in flaming adoration of the blessed womb4 ,her eyes are ,god's dew1 wherein the secret of ,his ,light is whispered by the thrones4 ,i felt through the morning ,his human ,presence graciously walking the roads1 and ,i was resting on ,his left ,arm that brought me to ,his ,heart1 the country wherein the dreams of my will are born4 ,august #ab4 ,i have been sick today4 ,rain and tempest1 but ,god was on the wind1 and ,i am happy4 ,august #ac4 ,still ill4 ,rain and fog with intermittent sunshine4 ,but ,i am as happy as ,i have ever been4 ,august #ad4 ,still ill4 ,fog in the morning breaking into a wonderful pearl day of summer haze4 ,our bodily senses are instruments in our orchestra4 ,august #ae4 ,today ,i sank into ,beauty several times in the sunlight4 ,august #af4 ,read through the last proofs and on the dunes with my mother in the afternoon ,i lived in the light of ,god4 ,the sun ,i caused to smile and ,i wrapped myself in the blue of the ,virgin's sky4 ,i found myself causing a shower twice by failing in humility4 ,but the laughing ,light of ,god's eyes in my soul is eternal1 and when ,i submit it controls the tides of my body and mind4 ,tonight a woodpecker alighted on ,father ,k----'s shoulder and stayed with him nearby4 ,the ,brahmin may attain to the shadow of the first syllable of the ,word4 ,he does not believe that there are others4 ,om is simply the symbol of inward breath1 inspiration4 ,i heard myself today very near to the ,heart of ,silence1 whose systole and diastole is the ebb and flow of ,love from ,eternity to ,eternity4 ,time is the sound of silence and is dead to all eternity4 ,it is the only beautiful death that the angels do not mourn1 for in the death of ,time is the ,redemption of the ,world4 ,it takes the circle of eternity to unite the four points of the cross1 and a crucifixion to unite two parallel lines4 ,august #ag4 ,out of the summer ,i am weaving the pattern web of the future in threads of desire4 ,every resurrection of a body is the last judgment of infinite planets1 which fly to or flee from the human song of ,god's first syllable4 ,yet those that flee may be purchased by an infinite ,redemption4 ,this opens a terrible possibility of mercy4 ,is ,god continually becoming man for the love of ,his image8 ,this is the joyful secret of ,god's sad fourth syllable4 ,i clothe it in words to guard it from my intellect4 ,infinite incarnations prove time an illusion1 since they make it eternity4 ,god's ,sacred ,heart is the silent ocean beyond the universe4 ,it reflects4 ,the ,incarnation is its flood4 ,the ,host tonight was more white than shining silver in a lonely pearl sky4 ,it was ,absolute ,music unveiled to the human eye4 ,tonight ,i stood out for long alone with the stars1 and watched a thunderstorm come over the sea4 ,we must guard our dreams and intuitions not only from the intellects of others but most of all from our own4 ,yet our faith must be precisely bounded1 although this boundary is to be none other than the infinite succession of points where time and eternity meet and bow down before ,god4 ,this morning ,i saw ,his ,beauty in a daisy4 444 ,i do not believe that ,god will reveal ,his mysteries if we seek to know them1 without inflicting a penalty4 ,the way of knowledge is the way of silent patience1 which lies quietly dreaming of ,love till the flood washes it with ,living ,light4 ,august #ah4 ,every time we look into another's soul we may enter ,paradise4 ,there is an indescribable grace in the air this first day of prescient autumn4 ,the summer has taught me the secret of loneliness and the infinite way of satisfying its desire4 ,to be alone with ,god we must be intimate with the beauty in the eyes of every face1 and yet absolutely detached save from one's family and friend4 ,life's ideal is to see the end in the beginning1 and act the road between4 ,this is no other than the eternal life of the ,alpha and ,omega4 ,but the essence of it in time is that the whole tide of humanity should ebb and flow in our breast4 ,it requires a crucifixion to drink in all its saltness4 ,i found the dunes beyond the lagoon this morning and sank into ,god in the wind of the sunlit blue4 ,when ,i returned1 the people were coming from ,church4 ,tonight the ,host was quivering gold1 and as ,i write the planets are ringing in my ears4 ,i pray that at the end ,i may come to the ,heart of ,eternal ,silence4 ,august #ai4 ,on the dunes this morning toward ,wonder ,island 444 ,eternity is infinite speed4 ,time is the dragwheel1 nothing more4 ,hence the significance of when eternity reaffirms the conception of an hour4 ,flame is the symbol of time as dew is the symbol of eternity4 ,they meet in ,christ and through ,him in the human race4 ,the moon properly loved is the kindness of time1 as the sun is the reflected love of ,eternity made ,flesh in the ,host on the altar4 444 ,tonight ,i desire only silence to love4 ,august #bj4 ,on the dunes toward ,wonder ,island this morning ,i lost space and walked upon the blue ringing a cycle of stars in either hand4 ,but ,i felt no sense of distance and the seed of the sands blew on the wind which carried me4 ,it taught me how to walk softly through life1 and coming home ,i had the sand in my hair4 ,i know now what clouds are1 softer than the breasts of doves4 ,god's flying sorrows are the sandals of the soul4 ,they make us ,his angels1 ,mercuries of ,light4 ,the sun has not bled for many a night1 but has slowly descended in silver splendor1 always a second dawn with its fresh1 keen1 cool surprises4 ,today was the grace of last night's desire4 ,the wonder of it this morning was my complete surrender1 the assurance with which ,i moved on the singing skies as my native element4 ,i know that only the appearances remained1 as in the ,eucharist after the ,consecration we seem to see the bread and wine4 ,life was the poise of infinity1 and ,i knew of no horizon1 for ,i could look down upon the dawn4 ,it came two weeks ago ,sunday in my heart4 ,i see the mystery of the ,resurrection in its beauty1 and why white lilies are its deepest symbol4 ,how can there be a prison or a cage8 ,every twilight is a white horizon4 ,the gulls know that and the sea tonight has lost its sorrow4 ,august #ba4 ,by sailboat to ,p---- and ,g---- with the silent man1 returning with the stars4 ,their hosting was like the flocking of wild geese1 and they followed ,st4 ,francis of ,assisi as a leader1 the captain of the morning stars4 ,in the silence ,i heard the operation of the divine mathematics4 ,i loved those ,chaldean seers to whom ,god talked directly and wrote ,his message upon the stars4 ,i lay prone on the deck looking upwards and fell into the ,divine ,ocean slowly4 ,the moon rode serenely to the southwest1 and humanity was with me in the boat4 ,navigators are now the only men left wise enough to follow the stars4 ,the sunpath was ,jacob's ladder1 and the ,aran islanders know its secret when they see ,tir-n'an-,og in the west on calm sunset evenings4 ,the sea had my trust1 eternal through yesterday's experience1 and ,i believe that if faith and good works required it of me1 ,i could walk softly over it4 ,if the soul is to control the body1 surely spiritual gravity should be able to overcome material gravity4 ,certainly it would take more than the sea to quench my flame1 if ,god made me worthy4 ,august #bb4 ,i looked down from great heights today on all the little smiling intimacies4 ,they are like happy babies to me1 and my speech should play with them1 if ,i can ever become worthy of their simplicity4 ,the rhythm of all music is the systole and diastole of the ,sacred ,heart1 which is the ebb and flow of an infinite ocean4 ,this is the meaning1 ,i think1 of the old ,gaelic rune1 ,ri tragadh s'ri lionadh1 mar a bha1 mar a tha1 mar a bhitheas gu bragh ri traghadh s'ri lionadh4 7,the ebb and the flow1 as it was1 as it is1 as it ever shall be1 the ebb and the flow47 ,the resolute gaze of the soul toward this in love constitutes prayer in its only form4 ,it shows blood to be the most rich and beautiful of human things1 and its salt waves purify the flesh1 as the salt waves of ,gethsemane and ,calvary redeemed the soul and its singing stars4 ,august #bc4 ,my life so far has been a word1 and not a deed4 ,but the world was not redeemed until the ,word ,,became ,,flesh--,,and ,,dwelt ,,amongst ,,us4 ,mary ,s---- met us on the roads today and said1 ,i hope that we'll be meeting in ,heaven1 we seem to meet so often now4 ,i sleep at night in a cruciform position adoring beauty with every faculty save my will1 the most necessary of all4 ,august #bd4 ,in the open today amid a hurricane of wind 444 ,i walked with a childish old man with a pleasant soul4 ,the wind brought meteor showers of beauty to the body4 ,it rained grace in the sky of noon4 ,i could carry overflowing happiness now even to ,new ,york4 ,today reminded me of the sunlight on the roar of ,broadway4 ,god is on the wind tonight1 and is beating down my will with his wings4 ,august #be4 ,i lay through a night of tempestuous wind with the open window at my head4 ,i awoke and saw myself face to face in my weakness4 ,it rained all day4 444 ,i can hardly bear my love today4 ,it is a terrific dynamo of silence4 ,but it will be very long before ,i shall fulfill my worthiness4 ,if one could always remember that he is a saviour1 and carry humanity with him1 his will would be inflexible and every act an exulting humility4 ,all nature is but a mantle which the wind of my spirit disposes in folds about me1 and humanity is the chalice in which ,i may communicate with ,god1--a chalice woven of our singing flesh and heart and brain and will1 wherein the will is its depth1 the ,atlas which bears the ,sacred ,body and ,blood when it is given to us4 ,august #bf4 ,sorrow has come at last4 ,full moon1 and life is at the flood4 ,the precept of all adversity is of course that the ebb tide of fortune is our flood toward ,god4 ,even the lamp tonight is singing in the room4 ,august #bg4 ,the experience still turns inward to the heart of life4 ,i now see the core of it4 ,it burns1 of course1 but think of the wheel it carries4 ,a few days ago ,i was on the circumference4 ,now ,i have found the center4 ,a day of rain and wind and exterior disturbances4 ,but ,i have found my cenacle4 ,august #bh4 ,a victory for the will4 444 ,it is strange that every vital lesson that experience teaches can never be expressed in words4 ,the past few days have taught me more than the rest of the summer4 ,there will always be a secrecy of the soul1 and what this contains constitutes ,god's image and likeness4 ,life sings tonight in every atom its marvelous chemistry of change and prophecy4 ,nature knows no elegies1 since it may never triumph over aught but dust4 ,but the highest dream is less worthy than the simplest deed1 and we must forget the knowledge of good and evil4 ,i would exchange all the knowledge ,i have gained for the grace to perform the slightest act of ,st4 ,francis4 ,god has made our opportunity infinite by giving us an eternal standard of values1--that is all4 ,august #bi4 ,i am afraid to write further for fear that ,i shall soon become self-conscious4 444 ,it is strange that the will did not come home to me as a complete experience before4 ,i simply had the foreboding of it4 ,this summer on the #ith of ,august ,i heard the ,fourth ,syllable in its awfulness for the first time1 and understood the mystery of the ,redemption4 ,the time has now come to close this book1 for the record is complete1 and may not be reopened until ,i redeem my will4 ,they departed into their own country another way4