Thereisnothinghumaninanylivinganimal。Allnature，theuniverseasfaraswesee，isanti—orultra—human，outside，andhasnoconcernwithman。
Thesethingsareunnaturaltohim。Bynocourseofreasoning，howevertortuous，cannatureandtheuniversebefittedtothemind。Norcanthemindbefittedtothecosmos。Mymindcannotbetwistedtoit；Iamseparatealtogetherfromthesedesignlessthings。Thesoulcannotbewresteddowntothem。Thelawsofnatureareofnoimportancetoit。Irefusetobeboundbythelawsofthetides，noramIsobound。Thoughbodilyswungroundonthisrotatingglobe，mymindalwaysremainsinthecentre。Notidallaw，norotation，nogravitationcancontrolmythought。
Centuriesofthoughthavefailedtoreconcileandfitthemindtotheuniverse，whichisdesignless，andpurposeless，andwithoutidea。Iwillnotendeavourtofitmythoughttoitanylonger；I
findandbelievemyselftobedistinct——separate；andIwilllabourinearnesttoobtainthehighestcultureformyself。Asthesenaturalthingshavenoconnectionwithman，itfollowsagainthatthenaturalisthestrangeandmysterious，andthesupernaturalthenatural。
Therebeingnothinghumaninnatureortheuniverse，andallthingsbeingultra—humanandwithoutdesign，shape，orpurpose，Iconcludethat，nodeityhasanythingtodowithnature。
Thereisnogodinnature，norinanymatteranywhere，eitherintheclodsontheearthorinthecompositionofthestars。
ForwhatweunderstandbythedeityisthepurestformofIdea，ofMind，andnomindisexhibitedinthese。Thatwhichcontrolsthemisdistinctaltogetherfromdeity。Itisnotforceinthesenseofelectricity，noradeityasgod，noraspirit，notevenanintelligence，butapowerquitedifferenttoanythingyetimagined。Icease，therefore，tolookfordeityinnatureorthecosmosatlarge，ortotraceanymarksofdivinehandiwork。Isearchfortracesofthisforcewhichisnotgod，andiscertainlynotthehigherthandeityofwhomIhavewritten。Itisaforcewithoutamind。Iwishtoindicatesomethingmoresubtlethanelectricity，butabsolutelydevoidofconsciousness，andwithnomorefeelingthantheforcewhichliftsthetides。
Next，inhumanaffairs，intherelationsofmanwithman，intheconductoflife，intheeventsthatoccur，inhumanaffairsgenerallyeverythinghappensbychance。Noprudenceinconduct，nowisdomorforesightcaneffectanything，forthemosttrivialcircumstancewillupsetthedeepestplanofthewisestmind。AsXenophonobservedinoldtimes，wisdomislikecastingdiceanddeterminingyourcoursebythenumberthatappears。Virtue，humanity，thebestandmostbeautifulconductiswhollyinvain。Thehistoryofthousandsofyearsdemonstratesit。InalltheseyearsthereisnomoremovinginstanceonrecordthanthatofDanae，whenshewasdraggedtotheprecipice，twothousandyearsago。SophronwasgovernorofEphesus，andLaodiceplottedtoassassinatehim。Danaediscoveredtheplot，andwarnedSophron，whofled，andsavedhislife。Laodice——themurderessinintent——hadDanaeseizedandcastfromacliff。OnthevergeDanaesaidthatsomepersonsdespisedthedeity，andtheymightnowprovethejusticeoftheircontemptbyherfate。Forhavingsavedthemanwhowastoherasahusband，shewasrewardedinthiswaywithcrueldeathbythedeity，butLaodicewasadvancedtohonour。Thebitternessofthesewordsremainstothishour。
Intruththedeity，ifresponsibleforsuchathing，orforsimilarthingswhichoccurnow，shouldbedespised。Onemustalwaysdespisethefatuousbeliefinsuchadeity。Butaseverythinginhumanaffairsobviouslyhappensbychance，itisclearthatnodeityisresponsible。Ifthedeityguideschanceinthatmanner，thenletthedeitybedespised。Apparentlythedeitydoesnotinterfere，andallthingshappenbychance。I
cease，therefore，tolookfortracesofthedeityinlife，becausenosuchtracesexist。
Iconcludethatthereisanexistence，asomethinghigherthansoul——higher，better，andmoreperfectthandeity。EarnestlyI
praytofindthissomethingbetterthanagod。Thereissomethingsuperior，higher，moregood。ForthisIsearch，labour，think，andpray。Ifafteralltherebenothing，andmysoulhastogooutlikeaflame，yeteventhenI
havethoughtthiswhileitlives。Withthewholeforceofmyexistence，withthewholeforceofmythought，mind，andsoul，IpraytofindthisHighestSoul，thisgreaterthandeity，thisbetterthangod。Givemetolivethedeepestsoul—lifenowandalwayswiththisSoul。ForwantofwordsIwritesoul，butIthinkthatitissomethingbeyondsoul。
CHAPTERV
ITisnotpossibletonarratetheseincidentsofthemindinstrictorder。Imustnowreturntoaperiodearlierthananythingalreadynarrated，andpassinreviewotherphasesofmysearchfromthenuptillrecently。SolongsincethatIhaveforgottenthedate，IusedeverymorningtovisitaspotwhereI
couldgetaclearviewoftheeast。ImmediatelyonrisingI
wentouttosomeelms；thenceIcouldseeacrossthedewyfieldstothedistanthilloverornearwhichthesunrose。Theseelmspartiallyhidme，foratthattimeIhadadisliketobeingseen，feelingthatI
shouldbedespisedifIwasnoticed。Thishappenedonceortwice，andIknewIwaswatchedcontemptuously，thoughnoonehadtheleastideaofmyobject。ButIwenteverymorning，andwassatisfiedifIcouldgettwoorthreeminutestothinkunchecked。OftenIsawthesunriseoverthelineofthehills，butifitwassummerthesunhadbeenupalongtime。
Ilookedatthehills，atthedewygrass，andthenupthroughtheelmbranchestothesky。Inamomentallthatwasbehindme，thehouse，thepeople，thesounds，seemedtodisappear，andtoleavemealone。InvoluntarilyIdrewalongbreath，thenI
breathedslowly。Mythought，orinnerconsciousness，wentupthroughtheilluminedsky，andIwaslostinamomentofexaltation。Thisonlylastedaveryshorttime，perhapsonlypartofasecond，andwhileitlastedtherewasnoformulatedwish。Iwasabsorbed；Idrankthebeautyofthemorning；Iwasexalted。WhenitceasedIdidwishforsomeincreaseorenlargementofmyexistencetocorrespondwiththelargenessoffeelingIhadmomentarilyenjoyed。Sometimesthewindcamethroughthetopsoftheelms，andtheslenderboughsbent，andgazingupthroughthem，andbeyondthefleecyclouds，Ifeltliftedup。Thelightcomingacrossthegrassandleavingitselfonthedew—drops，thesoundofthewind，andthesenseofmountingtotheloftyheaven，filledmewithadeepsigh，awishtodrawsomethingoutofthebeautyofit，somepartofthatwhichcausedmyadmiration，thesubtleinneressence。
Sometimesthegreentipsofthehighestboughsseemedgilded，thelightlaidagoldonthegreen。Orthetreesbowedtoastormywindroaringthroughthem，thegrassthrewitselfdown，andintheeastbroadcurtainsofarosytintstretchedalong。Thelightwasturnedtorednessinthevapour，andrainhidthesummitofthehill。Intherushandroarofthestormywindthesameexaltation，thesamedesire，liftedmeforamoment。Iwentthereeverymorning，Icouldnotexactlydefinewhy；itwaslikegoingtoarosebushtotastethescentoftheflowerandfeelthedewfromitspetalsonthelips。
ButIdesiredthebeauty——theinnersubtlemeaning——tobeinme，thatI
mighthaveit，andwithitanexistenceofahigherkind。
LateronIbegantohavedailypilgrimagestothinkthesethings。TherewasafeelingthatImustgosomewhere，andbealone。Itwasanecessitytohaveafewminutesofthisseparatelifeeveryday；mymindrequiredtoliveitsownlifeapartfromotherthings。Agreatoakatashortdistancewasoneresort，andsittingonthegrassattheroots，orleaningagainstthetrunkandlookingoverthequietmeadowstowardsthebrightsouthernsky，Icouldlivemyownlifealittlewhile。BehindthetrunkIwasalone；Ilikedtoleanagainstit；totouchthelichenontheroughbark。Highinthewoodofbranchesthebirdswerenotalarmed；theysang，orcalled，andpassedtoandfrohappily。Thewindmovedtheleaves，andtheyrepliedtoitsoftly；andnowatthisdistanceoftimeIcanseethefragmentsofskyupthroughtheboughs。Beeswerealwayshumminginthegreenfield；ring—doveswentoverswiftly，flyingforthewoods。
OfthesunIwasconscious；Icouldnotlookatit，buttheboughsheldbackthebeamssothatIcouldfeelthesun’spresencepleasantly。Theyshadedthesun，yetletmeknowthatitwasthere。Therecametomeadelicate，butatthesametimeadeep，strong，andsensuousenjoymentofthebeautifulgreenearth，thebeautifulskyandsun；Ifeltthem，theygavemeinexpressibledelight，asiftheyembracedandpouredouttheirloveuponme。ItwasIwholovedthem，formyheartwasbroaderthantheearth；itisbroadernowthaneventhen，morethirstyanddesirous。Afterthesensuousenjoymentalwayscamethethought，thedesire：ThatImightbelikethis；
thatImighthavetheinnermeaningofthesun，thelight，theearth，thetreesandgrass，translatedintosomegrowthofexcellenceinmyself，bothofbodyandofmind；greaterperfectionofphysique，greaterperfectionofmindandsoul；thatImightbehigherinmyself。TothisoakIcamedailyforalongtime；sometimesonlyforaminute，forjusttoviewthespotwasenough。Inthebittercoldofspring，whenthenorthwindblackenedeverything，Iusedtocomenowandthenatnighttolookfromunderthebarebranchesatthesplendourofthesouthernsky。Thestarsburnedwithbrilliance，broadOrionandflashingSirius——therearemoreorbrighterconstellationsvisiblethenthanalltheyear：andtheclearnessoftheairandtheblacknessofthesky——black，notclouded——letthemgleamintheirfulness。Theyliftedme——theygavemefreshvigourofsoul。Notallthatthestarscouldhavegiven，hadtheybeendestinies，couldhavesatiatedme。
This，allthis，andmore，Iwantedinmyself。
Therewasaplaceamileorsoalongtheroadwherethehillscouldbeseenmuchbetter；Iwenttherefrequentlytothinkthesamethought。Anotherspotwasbyanelm，averyshortwalk，whereopeningsinthetrees，andtheslopeoftheground，broughtthehillswellintoview。Thistoo，wasafavouritethinking—place。Anotherwasawood，halfanhour’swalkdistant，throughpartofwhicharudetrackwent，sothatitwasnotaltogetherinclosed。Theash—saplings，andthetrees，thefirs，thehazelbushes——tobeamongtheseenabledmetobemyself。Fromthebudsofspringtotheberriesofautumn，I
alwayslikedtobethere。Sometimesinspringtherewasasheenofblue—bellscoveringacres；thedovescooed；theblackbirdswhistledsweetly；
therewasatasteofgreenthingsintheair。Butitwasthetallfirsthatpleasedmemost；theglanceroseuptheflame—shapedfir—tree，taperingtoitsgreentip，andabovewastheazuresky。ByaidofthetreeIfelttheskymore。ByaidofeverythingbeautifulIfeltmyself，andinthatintensesenseofconsciousnessprayedforgreaterperfectionofsoulandbody。
Afterwards，Iwalkedalmostdailymorethantwomilesalongtheroadtoaspotwherethehillsbegan，wherefromthefirstrisetheroadcouldbeseenwindingsouthwardsoverthehills，openanduninclosed。Ipausedaminuteortwobyaclumpoffirs，inwhosebranchesthewindalwayssighed——thereisalwaysamovementoftheaironahill。Southwwardstheskywasilluminedbythesun，southwardsthecloudsmovedacrosstheopeningorpassintheamphitheatre，andsouthwards，thoughfardistant，wasthesea。ThereIcouldthinkamoment。Thesepilgrimagesgavemeafewsacredminutesdaily；themomentseemedholywhenthethoughtordesirecameinitsfullforce。
Atimecamewhen，havingtoliveinatown，thesepilgrimageshadtobesuspended。ThewearisomeworkonwhichIwasengagedwouldnotpermitofthem。ButIusedtolooknowandthen，fromawindow，intheeveningatabirch—treeatsomedistance；itsgracefulboughsdroopedacrosstheglowofthesunset。Thethoughtwasnotsuspended；itlivedinmealways。AbitterertimestillcamewhenitwasnecessarytobeseparatedfromthoseIloved。ThereislittleindeedinthemoreimmediatesuburbsofLondontogratifythesenseofthebeautiful。YettherewasacedarbywhichIusedtowalkupanddown，andthinkthesamethoughtsasunderthegreatoakinthesolitudeofthesunlitmeadows。
Inthecourseofslowtimehappiercircumstancesbroughtustogetheragain，and，thoughnearLondon，ataspotwheretherewaseasyaccesstomeadowsandwoods。Hillsthatpurifythosewhowalkonthemtherewerenot。StillIthoughtmyoldthoughts。
IwasmuchinLondon，and，engagementscompleted，Iwanderedaboutinthesamewayasinthewoodsofformerdays。FromthestonebridgesIlookeddownontheriver；thegrittydust，thestrawsthatlieonthebridges，flewupandwhirledroundwitheverygustfromtheflowingtide；grittydustthatsettlesinthenostrilsandonthelips，theveryresiduumofallthatisrepulsiveinthegreatestcityoftheworld。Thenoiseofthetrafficandtheconstantpressurefromthecrowdspassing，theirincessantanddisjointedtalk，couldnotdistractme。OnemomentatleastIhad，amomentwhenIthoughtofthepushofthegreatseaforcingthewatertoflowunderthefeetofthesecrowds，thedistantseastrongandsplendid；whenIsawthesunlightgleamonthetidalwavelets；whenIfeltthewind，andwasconsciousoftheearth，thesea，thesun，theair，theimmenseforcesworkingon，whilethecityhummedbytheriver。Naturewasdeepenedbythecrowdsandfoot—wornstones。Ifthetidehadebbed，andthemastsofthevesselsweretiltedasthehullsrestedontheshelvingmud，stilleventheblackenedmuddidnotpreventmeseeingthewateraswaterflowingtothesea。Theseahaddrawndown，andthewaveletswashingthestrandhereastheyhastenedwererunningthefastertoit。EastwardsfromLondonBridgetheriverracedtotheocean。
ThebrightmorningsunofsummerheatedtheeasternparapetofLondonBridge；Istayedintherecesstoacknowledgeit。Thesmoothwaterwasabroadsheenoflight，thebuilt—upriverflowedcalmandsilentbyathousanddoors，ripplingonlywherethestreamchafedagainstachain。Redpennantsdrooped，gildedvanesgleamedonpolishedmasts，black—pitchedhullsglistenedlikeablackrook’sfeathersinsunlight；theclearaircutouttheforwardanglesofthewarehouses，theshadowedwharveswerequietinshadowsthatcarriedlight；fardowntheshipsthatwerehaulingoutmovedinrepose，andwiththestreamfloatedawayintothesummermist。Therewasafaintbluecolourintheairhoveringbetweenthebuilt—upbanks，againstthelitwalls，inthehollowsofthehouses。Theswallowswheeledandclimbed，twitteredandglideddownwards。Burningon，thegreatsunstoodinthesky，heatingtheparapet，glowingsteadfastlyuponmeaswhenIrestedinthenarrowvalleygroovedoutinprehistorictimes。Burningonsteadfast，andeverpresentasmythought。
Lightingthebroadriver，thebroadwalls；lightingtheleastspeckofdust；
lightingthegreatheaven；gleamingonmyfinger—nail。Thefixedpointofday——thesun。Iwasintenselyconsciousofit；Ifeltit；Ifeltthepresenceoftheimmensepowersoftheuniverse；Ifeltoutintothedepthsoftheether。Sointenselyconsciousofthesun，thesky，thelimitlessspace，Ifelttoointhemidstofeternitythen，inthemidstofthesupernatural，amongtheimmortal，andthegreatnessofthematerialrealisedthespirit。BytheseI
sawmysoul；bytheseIknewthesupernaturaltobemoreintenselyrealthanthesun。Itouchedthesupernatural，theimmortal，therethatmoment。
When，wearyofwalkingonthepavements，IwenttorestintheNationalGallery，Isatandrestedbeforeoneorotherofthehumanpictures。Iamnotapicturelover：theyareflatsurfaces，butthosethatIcallhumanareneverthelessbeautiful。ThekneeinDaphnisandChloeandthebreastarelikelivingthings；theydrawthehearttowardsthem，theheartmustlovethem。Ilivedinlooking；withoutbeautythereisnolifeforme，thedivinebeautyoffleshislifeitselftome。
TheshoulderintheSurprise，theroundedriseofthebust，theexquisitetintsoftheripeskin，momentarilygratifiedthesea—
thirstinme。ForIthirstwithallthethirstofthesaltsea，andthesun—heatedsandsdryforthetide，withalltheseaI
thirstforbeauty。AndIknowfullwellthatonelifetime，howeverlong，cannotfillmyheart。Mythroatandtongueandwholebodyhaveoftenbeenparchedandfeverishdrywiththismeasurelessthirst，andagainmoisttothefingers’endslikeasappybough。Itburnsinmeasthesunburnsinthesky。
TheglowingfaceofCythereainTitian’sVenusandAdonis，theheatedcheek，thelipsthatkisseacheyethatgazesonthem，thedesiringglance，thegoldenhair——sunbeamsmouldedintofeatures——thisfaceansweredme。Juno’swidebackandmesialgroove，isanythingsolovelyastheback？Cytherealspoisedhipsunveiledforjudgment；thesecalledupthesamethirstI
feltonthegreenswardinthesun，onthewildbeachlisteningtothequietsobasthesummerwavedrankattheland。Iwillsearchtheworldthroughforbeauty。IcamehereandsattorestbeforetheseinthedayswhenIcouldnotaffordtobuysomuchasaglassofale，wearyandfaintfromwalkingonstonepavements。Icamelateron，inbettertimes，oftenstraightfromlabourswhichthoughnecessarywilleverbedistasteful，alwaystorestmyheartwithloveliness。Igostill；thedivinebeautyoffleshislifeitselftome。Itwas，andis，oneofmyLondonpilgrimages。
AnotherwastotheGreeksculpturegalleriesintheBritishMuseum。Thestatuesarenot，itissaid，thebest；brokentoo，andmutilated，andseeninadull，commonplacelight。Buttheywereshape——divineshapeofmanandwoman；theformoflimbandtorso，ofbustandneck，gavemeasighingsenseofrest。Theseweretheywhowouldhavestayedwithmeundertheshadowoftheoakswhiletheblackbirdsflutedandthesouthairswungthecowslips。Theywouldhavewalkedwithmeamongthereddenedgoldofthewheat。Theywouldhaverestedwithmeonthehill—topsandinthenarrowvalleygroovedofancienttimes。Theywouldhavelistenedwithmetothesobofthesummerseadrinkingtheland。Thesehadthirstedofsun，andearth，andsea，andsky。Theirshapespokethisthirstanddesirelikemine——ifIhadlivedwiththemfromGreecetillnowIshouldnothavehadenoughofthem。Tracingtheformoflimbandtorsowiththeeyegavemeasenseofrest。
SometimesIcameinfromthecrowdedstreetsandceaselesshum；
oneglanceattheseshapesandIbecamemyself。SometimesIcamefromtheReading—room，whereunderthedomeIoftenlookedupfromthedeskandrealisedthecrushinghopelessnessofbooks，useless，notequaltoonebubblebornealongontherunningbrookIhadwalkedby，givingnothoughtlikethespringwhenIliftedthewaterinmyhandandsawthelightgleamonit。Torsoandlimb，bustandneckinstantlyreturnedmetomyself；IfeltasIdidlyingontheturflisteningtothewindamongthegrass；itwouldhaveseemednaturaltohavefoundbutterfliesflutteringamonghestatues。
Thesamedeepdesirewaswithme。Ishallalwaysgotospeaktothem；theyareaplaceofpilgrimage；whereverthereisabeautifulstatuethereisaplaceofpilgrimage。
Ialwayssteppedaside，too，tolookawhileattheheadofJuliusCaesar。Thedomesoftheswellingtemplesofhisbroadheadarefullofmind，evidenttotheeyeasaglobeisfullofsubstancetothesenseoffeelinginthehandsthatholdit。
Thethinworncheekisentirelyhuman；endlessdifficultiessurmountedbyendlesslabouraremarkedinit，asthesandblast，bydintofparticlesceaselesslydriven，carvesthehardestmaterial。Ifcircumstancesfavouredhimhemadethosecircumstanceshisownbymarvellouslabour，soasjustlytoreceivethecreditofchance。Thereforethethincheekisentirelyhuman——thesumofhumanlifemadevisibleinoneface——labour，andendurance，andmind，andallinvain。A
shadow——ofdeepsadnesshasgatheredonitintheyearsthathavepassed，becauseendurancewaswithoutavail。Itissaddertolookatthanthegrass—growntumulusIusedtositby，becauseitisapersonality，andalsoonaccountoftheextremefollyofourhumanraceeverdestroyingourgreatest。
Farbetterhadtheyendeavoured，howeverhopelessly，tokeephimlivingtillthisday。Didbuttheracethishourpossessone—
hundredthpartofhisbreadthofview，howhappyforthem!Ofwhomelsecanitbesaidthathehadnoenemiestoforgivebecauseherecognisednoenemy？Nineteenhundredyearsagoheputinactualpractice，withmorearbitrarypowerthananydespot，thoseveryprinciplesofhumanitywhicharenowputforwardasthehighestculture。Buthemadethemtobeactualthingsunderhissway。
Theonemanfilledwithmind；theonemanwithoutavarice，anger，pettiness，littleness；theonemangenerousandtrulygreatofallhistory。Itisenoughtomakeonedespairtothinkofthemerebrutesbuttingtodeaththegreat—mindedCaesar。Hecomesnearesttotheidealofadesign—powerarrangingtheaffairsoftheworldforgoodinpracticalthings。Beforehisface——thedivinebrowofmindabove，thehumansuffering—drawncheekbeneath——myownthoughtbecamesetandstrengthened。ThatIcouldbutlookatthingsinthebroadwayhedid；thatI
couldnotpossessoneparticleofsuchwidthofintellecttoguidemyowncourse，tocopewithanddragforthfromtheiron—
resistingforcesoftheuniversesomeonethingofmyprayerforthesoulandfortheflesh。
CHAPTERVI
THEREisaplaceinfrontoftheRoyalExchangewherethewidepavementreachesoutlikeapromontory。Itisintheshapeofatrianglewitharoundedapex。Astreamoftrafficrunsoneitherside，andotherstreetssendtheircurrentsdownintotheopenspacebeforeit。Likethespokesofawheelconvergingstreamsofhumanlifeflowintothisagitatedpool。Horsesandcarriages，carts，vans，omnibuses，cabs，everykindofconveyancecrosseachother’scourseineverypossibledirection。Twistinginandoutbythewheelsandunderthehorses’heads，workingadeviousway，menandwomenofallconditionswindapathover。Theyfilltheintersticesbetweenthecarriagesandblackenthesurface，tillthevansalmostfloatonhumanbeings。Nowthestreamsslacken，andnowtheyrushamain，butnevercease；darkwavesarealwaysrollingdowntheinclineopposite，wavesswelloutfromthesiderivers，allLondonconvergesintothisfocus。Thereisanindistinguishablenoise——itisnotclatter，hum，orroar，itisnotresolvable；madeupofathousandthousandfootsteps，fromathousandhoofs，athousandwheels——ofhaste，andshuffle，andquickmovements，andponderousloads；noattentioncanresolveitintoafixedsound。
Bluecartsandyellowomnibuses，varnishedcarriagesandbrownvans，greenomnibusesandredcabs，paleloadsofyellowstraw，rusty—redironclukingonpointlesscarts，highwhitewool—
packs，greyhorses，bayhorses，blackteams；sunlightsparklingonbrassharness，gleamingfromcarriagepanels；jingle，jingle，jingle!Anintermixedandintertangled，ceaselesslychangingjingle，too，ofcolour；flecksofcolourchamped，asitwere，likebitsinthehorses’
teeth，frothedandstrewnabout，andasurfacealwaysofdark—dressedpeoplewindinglikethecurvesonfast—flowingwater。Thisisthevortexandwhirlpool，thecentreofhumanlifetodayontheearth。Nowthetiderisesandnowitsinks，buttheflowoftheseriversalwayscontinues。Hereitseethesandwhirls，notforanhouronly，butforallpresenttime，hourbyhour，daybyday，yearbyyear。
Hereitrushesandpushes，theatomstriturateandgrind，and，eagerlythrustingby，pursuetheirseparateends。Hereitappearsinitsunconcealedpersonality，indifferenttoallelsebutitself，absorbedandraptineagerself，devoidandstrippedofconventionalglossandpoliteness，yieldingonlytogetitsownway；
driving，pushing，carriedoninastressoffeverishforcelikeabullet，dynamicforceapartfromreasonorwill，liketheforcethatliftsthetidesandsendsthecloudsonwards。Thefrictionofathousandinterestsevolvesaconditionofelectricityinwhichmenaremovedtoandfrowithoutconsideringtheirsteps。Yettheagitatedpooloflifeisstonilyindifferent，thethoughtisabsentorpreoccupied，foritisevidentthatthemassareunconsciousofthesceneinwhichtheyact。
Butitismoresternlyrealthantheverystones，forallthesemenandwomenthatpassthrougharedrivenonbythepushofaccumulatedcircumstances；theycannotstay，theymustgo，theirnecksareintheslave’sring，theyarebeatenlikeseaweedagainstthesolidwallsoffact。Inancienttimes，Xerxes，thekingofkings，lookingdownuponhismyriads，wepttothinkthatinahundredyearsnotoneofthemwouldbeleft。Wherewillbethesemillionsofto—dayinahundredyears？But，furtherthanthat，letusask，Wherethenwillbethesumandoutcomeoftheirlabour？Iftheywitherawaylikesummergrass，willnotatleastaresultbeleftwhichthoseofahundredyearshencemaybethebetterfor？No，notonejot!Therewillnotbeanysumoroutcomeorresultofthisceaselesslabourandmovement；itvanishesinthemomentthatitisdone，andinahundredyearsnothingwillbethere，fornothingistherenow。Therewillbenomoresumorresultthanaccumulatesfromthemotionofarevolvingcowlonahousetop。Nordotheyreceiveanymoresunshineduringtheirlives，fortheyareunconsciousofthesun。
Iusedtocomeandstandneartheapexofthepromontoryofpavementwhichjutsouttowardsthepooloflife；Istillgotheretoponder。Burninginthesky，thesunshoneonmeaswhenIrestedinthenarrowvalleycarvedinprehistorictime。
Burninginthesky，Icanneverforgetthesun。Theheatofsummerisdrythereasifthelightcarriedanimpalpabledust；dry，breathlessheatthatwillnotlettheskinrespire，butswathesupthedryfireintheblood。Butbeyondtheheatandlight，IfeltthepresenceofthesunasIfeltitinthesolitaryvalley，thepresenceoftheresistlessforcesoftheuniverse；thesunburnedintheskyasIstoodandpondered。Isthereanytheory，philosophy，orcreed，isthereanysystemorculture，anyformulatedmethodabletomeetandsatisfyeachseparateitemofthisagitatedpoolofhumanlife？Bywhichtheymaybeguided，bywhichhope，bywhichlookforward？Notamereillusionofthecravenheart——somethingreal，asrealasthesolidwallsoffactagainstwhich，likedriftedsea—weed，theyaredashed；somethingtogiveeachseparatepersonalitysunshineandaflowerinitsownexistencenow；somethingtoshapethismillion—handedlabourtoanendandoutcomethatwillleavemoresunshineandmoreflowerstothosewhomustsucceed？Somethingrealnow，andnotinthespirit—land；inthishournow，asIstandandthesunburns。Cananycreed，philosophy，system，orcultureendurethetestandremainunmolteninthisfiercefocusofhumanlife？
Consider，isthereanythingslowlypaintedontheoncemysticandnowcommonplacepapyriofancient，ancientEgypt，heldonthemummy’switheredbreast？Inthatelaborateritual，intheprocessionofthesymbols，inthewingedcircle，inthelaborioussarcophagus？Nothing；absolutelynothing!
Beforethefierceheatofthehumanfurnace，thepapyrismoulderawayaspapersmouldersunderalensinthesun。RememberNinevehandthecultofthefir—cone，theturbanedandbeardedbullsofstone，thelionhunt，thepaintedchambersloadedwithtilebooks，theloreofthearrow—headedwriting。WhatisinAssyria？Therearesand，andfailingrivers，andinAssyria’swritingsanutternothing。TheagedcavesofIndia，whoshalltellwhentheyweresculptured？Farbackwhenthesunwasburning，burningintheskyasnowinuntoldprecedenttime。
Isthereanymeaninginthoseancientcaves？Theindistinguish—ablenoisenottoberesolved，bornofthehumanstruggle，mocksinanswer。
InthestrangecharactersoftheZend，intheSanscrit，intheeffortlesscreedofConfucius，intheAzteccoloured—stringwritingsandrayedstones，intheuncertainmarksleftofthesunkenPolynesiancontinent，hieroglyphsasuselessasthoseofMemphis，nothing。Nothing!Theyhavebeentried，andwerefoundanillusion。
Thinkthen，to—day，nowlookingfromthisapexofthepavementpromontoryoutwardsfromourownlandtotheutmostboundsofthefarthestsail，isthereanyfaithorcultureatthishourwhichcanstandinthisfierceheat？FromthevariousformsofSemitic，Aryan，orTuraniancreednowexisting，fromtheprinting—presstothepalm—leafvolumeontothosewhocallonthejewelinthelotus，canaughtbegatheredwhichcanfacethis，theReality？Theindistinguishablenoise，non—resolvable，roarsaloudcontempt。
Turn，then，tothecalmreasoningofAristotle；isthereanythinginthat？Canthehalf—divinethoughtofPlato，risinginstoreysofsequentialideas，followingeachothertotheconclusion，endurehere？No!AllthephilosophersinDiogenesLaertiusfadeaway：thetheoriesofmedimvaldays；theorganonofexperiment；downtothishour——theyareuselessalike。Thescienceofthishour，drawnfromtheprinting—pressinanendlesswebofpaper，ispowerlesshere；theindistinguishablenoiseechoedfromthesmoke—shadowedwallsdespisesthewhole。Athousandfootsteps，athousandhoofs，athousandwheelsrolloverandutterlycontemnthemincompleteannihilation。Mereillusionsofheartormind，theyaretestedandthrustasidebytheirresistiblepushofamillionconvergingfeet。
Burninginthesky，thesunshinesasitshoneonmeinthesolitaryvalley，asitburnedonwhentheearliestcaveofIndiawascarved。AbovetheindistinguishableroarofthemanyfeetI
feelthepresenceofthesun，oftheimmenseforcesoftheuniverse，andbeyondthesethesenseoftheeternalnow，oftheimmortal。Fullwellawarethatallhasfailed，yet，sidebysidewiththesadnessofthatknowledge，therelivesoninmeanunquenchablebelief，thoughtburninglikethesun，thatthereisyetsomethingtobefound，somethingreal，somethingtogiveeachseparatepersonalitysunshineandflowersinitsownexistencenow。Somethingtoshapethismillion—handedlabourtoanendandoutcome，leavingaccumulatedsunshineandflowerstothosewhoshallsucceed。Itmustbedraggedforthbymightofthoughtfromtheimmenseforcesoftheuniverse。
Toprepareforsuchaneffort，firstthemindmustbeclearedoftheconceitthat，becauseweliveto—day，wearewiserthantheagesgone。Themindmustacknowledgeitsignorance；allthelearningandloreofsomanyerasmustbeerasedfromitasanencumbrance。Itisnotfrompastorpresentknowledge，scienceorfaith，thatitistobedrawn。Erasethesealtogetherastheyareerasedunderthefierceheatofthefocusbeforeme。Beginwhollyafresh。Gostraighttothesun，theimmenseforcesoftheuniverse，totheEntityunknown；gohigherthanagod；deeperthanprayer；andopenanewday。ThatImightbuthaveafragmentofCaesar’sintellecttofindafragmentofthisdesire!
>FrommyhomenearLondonImadeapilgrimagealmostdailytoanaspenbyabrook。Itwasamileandaquarteralongtheroad，farenoughformetowalkofftheconcentrationofmindnecessaryforwork。Theideaofthepilgrimagewastogetawayfromtheendlessandnamelesscircumstancesofeverydayexistence，whichbydegreesbuildawallaboutthemindsothatittravelsinaconstantlynarrowingcircle。Thistetherofthefacultiestendstomakethemacceptpresentknowledge，andpresentthings，asallthatcanbeattainedto。Thisisall——
thereisnothingmore——istheiteratedpreachingofhouse—life。
Remain；becontent；goroundandroundinonebarrenpath，alittlemoney，alittlefoodandsleep，someancientfables，oldageanddeath。Ofalltheinventionsofcasuistrywithmanforageshasinvariouswayswhichmanacledhimself，andstayedhisownadvance，thereisnoneequallypotentwiththesuppositionthatnothingmoreispossible。Oncewellimpressonthemindthatithasalreadyall，thatadvanceisimpossiblebecausethereisnothingfurther，anditischainedlikeahorsetoanironpinintheground。Itisthemostdeadly——themostfatalpoisonofthemind。
Nosuchcasuistryhaseverforamomentheldme，butstill，ifpermitted，theconstantroutineofhouse—life，thesamework，thesamethoughtinthework，thelittlecircumstancesregularlyrecurring，willdullthekeenestedgeofthought。Bymydailypilgrimage，Iescapedfromitbacktothesun。
Insummertheleavesoftheaspenrustledpleasantly，therewasthetinkleoffallingwateroverahatch，thrushessangandblackbirdswhistled，greenfincheslaughedintheirtalktoeachother。Thecommonplacedustyroadwascommonplacenolonger。
Inthedustwasthemarkofthechaffinches’littlefeet；thewhitelightrenderedeventhedustbrightertolookon。Theaircamefromthesouth—west——thereweredistanthillsinthatdirection——overfieldsofgrassandcorn。AsIvisitedthespotfromdaytodaythewheatgrewfromgreentoyellow，thewildrosesflowered，thescarletpoppiesappeared，andagainthebeechesreddenedinautumn。Inthemarchoftimetherefellawayfrommymind，astheleavesfromthetreesinautumn，thelasttracesandrelicsofsuperstitionsandtraditionsacquiredcompulsorilyinchildhood。Alwaysfeeblyadhering，theyfinallydisappeared。
Therefellaway，too，personalbiasandprejudices，enablingmetoseeclearerandwithwidersympathies。Theglamourofmodernscienceanddiscoveriesfadedaway，forIfoundthemnomorethanthefirstpotter’swheel。Erasureandreceptionproceededtogether；thepastaccumulationsofcasuistrywereerased，andmythoughtwidenedtoreceivetheideaofsomethingbeyondallpreviousideas。Withdisbelief，beliefincreased。
Theaspirationandhope，theprayer，wasthesameasthatwhichIfeltyearsbeforeonthehills，onlyitnowbroadened。
Experienceoflife，insteadofcurtailingandcheckingmyprayer，ledmetorejectexperiencealtogether。AswellmightthehorsebelievethattheroadthebridleforcesittotraverseeverydayencirclestheearthasIbelieveinexperience。Alltheexperienceofthegreatestcityintheworldcouldnotwithholdme。Irejecteditwholly。Istoodbare—headedbeforethesun，inthepresenceoftheearthandair，inthepresenceoftheimmenseforcesoftheuniverse。Idemandthatwhichwillmakememoreperfectnow，thishour。Londonconvincedmeofmyownthought。Thatthoughthasalwaysbeenwithme，andalwaysgrowswider。
OnemidsummerIwentoutoftheroadintothefields，andsatdownonthegrassbetweentheyellowingwheatandthegreenhawthornbushes。Thesunburnedinthesky，thewheatwasfullofaluxuriantsenseofgrowth，thegrasshigh，theearthgivingitsvigourtotreeandleaf，theheavenblue。Thevigourandgrowth，thewarmthandlight，thebeautyandrichnessofitenteredintome；anecstasyofsoulaccompaniedthedelicateexcitementofthesenses：thesoulrosewiththebody。Raptinthefulnessofthemoment，Iprayedtherewithallthatexpansionofmindandframe；nowords，nodefinition，inexpressibledesireofphysicallife，ofsoul—life，equaltoandbeyondthehighestimaginingofmyheart。
Thesememoriescannotbeplacedinexactchronologicalorder。
Therewasatimewhenawearyrestlessnesscameuponme，perhapsfromtoo—long—continuedlabour。Itwaslikeadrought——amoraldrought——asifI
hadbeenabsentformanyyearsfromthesourcesoflifeandhope。Theinnernaturewasfaint，allwasdryandtasteless；Iwaswearyforthepure，freshspringsofthought。Someinstinctivefeelinguncontrollabledrovemetothesea；IwassounderitsinfluencethatIcouldnotarrangethejourneysoastogetthelongestday。Imerelystarted，andofcoursehadtowaitandenduremuchinconvenience。Togettotheseaatsomequietspotwasmyonethought；todosoIhadtotravelfarther，andfromwantofprearrangementitwasbetweentwoandthreeintheafternoonbeforeIreachedtheendofmyjourney。Eventhen，beingtoomuchpreoccupiedtoinquiretheway，Imissedtheroadandhadtowalkalongdistancebeforecomingtotheshore。ButI
foundtheseaatlast；Iwalkedbesideitinatranceawayfromthehousesoutintothewheat。heripecornstooduptothebeach，thewavesononesideoftheshingle，andtheyellowwheatontheother。
There，alone，Iwentdowntothesea。Istoodwherethefoamcametomyfeet，andlookedoutoverthesunlitwaters。Thegreatearthbearingtherichnessoftheharvest，anditshillsgoldenwithcorn，wasatmyback；itsstrengthandfirmnessunderme。Thegreatsunshoneabove，thewideseawasbeforeme，thewindcamesweetandstrongfromthewaves。Thelifeoftheearthandthesea，theglowofthesunfilledme；Itouchedthesurgewithmyhand，Iliftedmyfacetothesun，Iopenedmylipstothewind。Iprayedaloudintheroarofthewaves——mysoulwasstrongastheseaandprayedwiththesea’smight。Givemefulnessoflifeliketotheseaandthesun，totheearthandtheair；givemefulnessofphysicallife，mindequalandbeyondtheirfulness；givemeagreatnessandperfectionofsoulhigherthanallthings；givememyinexpressibledesirewhichswellsinmelikeatide——giveittomewithalltheforceofthesea。
ThenIrested，sittingbythewheat；thebankofbeachwasbetweenmeandthesea，butthewavesbeatagainstit；theseawasthere，theseawaspresentandathand。BythedrywheatI
rested，Ididnotthink，Iwasinhalingtherichnessofthesea，allthestrengthanddepthofmeaningoftheseaandearthcametomeagain。Irubbedoutsomeofthewheatinmyhands，Itookupapieceofclodandcrumbleditinmyfingers——itwasajoytotouchit——IheldmyhandsothatIcouldseethesunlightgleamontheslightlymoistsurfaceoftheskin。Theearthandsunweretomelikemyfleshandblood，andtheairofthesealife。
WithallthegreaterexistenceIdrewfromthemIprayedforabodilylifeequaltoit，forasoul—lifebeyondmythought，formyinexpressibledesireofmorethanIcouldshapeevenintoidea。Therewassomethinghigherthanidea，invisibletothoughtasairtotheeye；givemebodilylifeequalinfulnesstothestrengthofearth，andsun，andsea；givemethesoul—
lifeofmydesire。OncemoreIwentdowntothesea，touchedit，andsaidfarewell。Sodeepwastheinhalationofthislifethatday，thatitseemedtoremaininmeforyears。Thiswasarealpilgrimage。
Timepassedaway，withmorelabour，pleasure，andagainatlast，aftermuchpainandwearinesssofmind，Icamedownagaintothesea。Thecircumstanceswerechanged——itwasnotahurriedglance——therewereopportunitiesforlongerthought。ItmatteredscarcelyanythingtomenowwhetherIwasalone，orwhetherhousesandotherpeoplewerenear。Nothingcoulddisturbmyinnervision。Bythesea，awareofthesunoverhead，andtheblueheaven，Ifeelthatthereisnothingbetweenmeandspace。
Thisisthevergeofagulf，andatangentfrommyfeetgoesstraightuncheckedintotheunnknown。Itistheedgeoftheabyssasmuchasiftheearthwerecutawayinasheerfallofeightthousandmilestotheskybeneath，thenceahollowtothestars。Lookingstraightoutislookingstraightdown；theeye—
glancegraduallydepartsfromthesea—level，and，risingasthatfalls，entersthehollowofheaven。Itisgazingalongthefaceofavastprecipiceintothehollowspacewhichisnameless。
Theremysteryhasbeenplaced，butrealisingthevasthollowyondermakesmefeelthatthemysteryishere。I，whoamhereontheverge，standingonthemarginofthesky，aminthemysteryitself。
IfIletmyeyelookbackuponmefromtheextremeoppositeofheaven，thenthisspotwhereIstandisinthecentreofthehollow。Alonewiththeseaandsky，Ipresentlyfeelallthedepthandwonderoftheunknowncomebacksurginguparound，andtouchingmeasthefoamrunstomyfeet。Iaminitnow，notto—morrow，thismoment；Icannotescapefromit。ThoughImaydeceivemyselfwithlabour，yetstillIaminit；insleeptoo。Thereisnoescapefromthisimmensity。
Feelingthisbythesea，underthesun，mylifeenlargesandquickens，strivingtotaketoitselfthelargenessoftheheaven。Theframecannotexpand，butthesoulisabletostandbeforeit。Nogiant’sbodycouldbeinproportiontotheearth，butalittlespiritisequaltotheentirecosmos，toearthandocean，sunandstar—hollow。Thesearebutafewacrestoit。
Werethecosmostwiceaswide，thesoulcouldrunoverit，andreturntoitselfinatimesosmall，nomeasureexiststometeit。
Therefore，Ithinkthesoulmaysometimesfindoutanexistenceassuperiorasmymindistothedeadchalkcliff。
Withthegreatsunburningoverthefoamflakedsea，roofedwithheaven——awareofmyself，aconsciousnessforcedonmebythesethings——Ifeelthatthoughtmustyetgrowlargerandcorrespondinmagnitudeofconceptiontothese。Butthesecannotcontentme，theseTitanicthingsofsea，andsun，andprofundity；Ifeelthatmythoughtisstrongerthantheyare。Iburnlifelikeatorch。Thehotlightshotbackfromtheseascorchesmycheek——
mylifeisburninginme。Thesoulthrobsliketheseaforalargerlife。NothoughtwhichIhaveeverhadhassatisfiedmysoul。
CHAPTERVII
MYstrengthisnotenoughtofulfilmydesire；ifIhadthestrengthoftheocean，andoftheearth，theburningvigourofthesunimplantedinmylimbs，itwouldhardlysufficetogratifythemeasurelessdesireoflifewhichpossessesme。Ihaveoftenwalkedthedaylongoverthesward，and，compelledtopause，atlength，inmyweariness，IwasfullofthesameeagernesswithwhichIstarted。Thesinewswouldobeynolonger，butthewillwasthesame。Myframecouldnevertaketheviolentexertionmyheartdemanded。Labourofbodywaslikemeatanddrinktome。Overtheopenhills，upthesteepascents，mileaftermile，therewasdeepenjoymentinthelong—drawnbreath，thespringofthefoot，intheactofrapidmovement。NeverhaveIhadenoughofit；IweariedlongbeforeIwassatisfied，andwearinessdidnotbringacessationofdesire；thethirstwasstillthere。Irowed，Iusedtheaxe，Isplittree—trunkswithwedges；myarmstired，butmyspiritremainedfreshandchafedagainstthephysicalweariness。Myarmswerenotstrongenoughtosatisfymewiththeaxe，orwedges，oroars。Therewasdelightinthemoment，butitwasnotenough。Iswam，andwhatismoredeliciousthanswimming？Itisexerciseandluxuryatonce。
ButIcouldnotswimfarenough；Iwasalwaysdissatisfiedwithmyselfonleavingthewater。
Naturehasnotgivenmeagreatframe，andhaditdonesoIshouldstillhavelongedformore。Iwasoutofdoorsallday，andoftenhalfthenight；
stillIwantedmoresunshine，moreair，thehoursweretooshort。Ifeelthisevenmorenowthanintheviolenceofearlyyouth：thehoursaretooshort，thedayshouldbesixtyhourslong。Slumber，too，isabbreviatedandrestricted；fortyhoursofnightandsleepwouldnotbetoomuch。Solittlecanbeaccomplishedinthelongestsummerday，solittlerestandnewforceisaccumulatedinashorteighthoursofsleep。
Ilivebytheseanow；Icanseenothingofitinaday；why，I
dobutgetabreathofit，andthesunsinksbeforeIhavewellbeguntothink。Lifeissolittleandsomean。Idreamsometimesbackwardsoftheancienttimes。IfIcouldhavethebowofNinus，andtheearthfullofwildbullsandlions，tohuntthemdown，therewouldberestinthat。Toshootwithagunisnothing；ameretouchdischargesit。Givemeabow，thatImayenjoythedelightoffeelingmyselfdrawthestringandthestrongwoodbending，thatImayseetherushofthearrow，andthebroadheadburyitselfdeepinshaggyhide。GivemeanironmacethatImaycrushthesavagebeastandhammerhimdown。Aspeartothrustthroughwith，sothatImayfeelthelongbladeenterandthepushoftheshaft。TheunweariedstrengthofNinustohuntunceasinglyinthefiercesun。StillI
shoulddesiregreaterstrengthandastouterbow，wildercreaturestocombat。Theintenselifeofthesenses，thereisneverenoughforthem。I
envySemiramis；IwouldhavebeententimesSemiramis。IenvyNero，becauseofthegreatconcourseofbeautyhesaw。Ishouldliketobelovedbyeverybeautifulwomanonearth，fromtheswartNubiantothewhiteanddivineGreek。
Wineispleasantandmeatrefreshing；butthoughIownwithabsolutehonestythatIlikethem，thesearetheleastofall。
OfthesetwoonlyhaveIeverhadenough。Thevehemenceofexertion，thevehemenceofthespear，thevehemenceofsunlightandlife，theinsatiatedesireofinsatiateSemiramis，thestillmoreinsatiatedesireoflove，divineandbeautiful，theuncontrollableadorationofbeauty，these——these：
givemetheseingreaterabundancethanwaseverknowntomanorwoman。ThestrengthofHercules，thefulnessofthesenses，therichnessoflife，wouldnotintheleastimpairmydesireofsoul—life。Onthereverse，witheverystrongerbeatofthepulsemydesireofsoul—lifewouldexpand。Soithaseverbeenwithme；inhardexercise，insensuouspleasure，intheembraceofthesunlight，eveninthedrinkingofaglassofwine，myhearthasbeenliftedthehighertowardsperfectionofsoul。Fulnessofphysicallifecausesadeeperdesireofsoul—life。
Letmebephysicallyperfect，inshape，vigour，andmovement。
Myframe，naturallyslender，willnotrespondtolabour，andincreaseinproportiontoeffort，norwillexposurehardenadelicateskin。Itdisappointsmesofar，butmyspiritriseswiththeeffort，andmythoughtopens。Thisistheonlyprofitoffrost，thepleasureofwinter，toconquercold，andtofeelbracedandstrengthenedbythatwhoseprovinceitistowitheranddestroy，makingofcold，life’senemy，life’srenewer。Theblacknorthwindhardenstheresolutionassteelistemperedinice—water。Itisasensualjoy，assensuousasthewarmembraceofthesunlight，butfulnessofphysicallifeeverbringstomeamoreeagerdesireofsoul—life。
Splendiditistofeeltheboatrisetotheroller，orforcedthroughbythesailtoshearthefoamasidelikeashare；splendidtoundulateasthechestliesonthewave，swimming，thebrimmingoceanround：thenIknowandfeelitsdeepstrongtide，itsimmensefulness，andthesunglowingover；
splendidtoclimbthesteepgreenhill：intheseIfeelmyself，Idrinktheexquisitejoyofthesenses，andmysoulliftsitselfwiththem。Itisbeautifuleventowatchafinehorsegallop，thelongstride，therushofthewindashepasses——myheartbeatsquickertothethudofthehoofs，andIfeelhisstrength。GladlywouldIhavethestrengthoftheTartarstallionroamingthewildsteppe；thatverystrength，whatvehemenceofsoul—thoughtwouldaccompanyit。ButIshouldlikeit，too，foritself。ForIbelieve，withallmyheart，inthebodyandtheflesh，andbelievethatitshouldbeincreasedandmademorebeautifulbyeverymeans。Ibelieve——Idomorethanthink——I
believeittobeasacredduty，incumbentuponeveryone，manandwoman，toaddtoandencouragetheirphysicallife，byexercise，andineverymanner。Asacreddutyeachtowardshimself，andeachtowardsthewholeofthehumanrace。Eachoneofusshoulddosomelittlepartforthephysicalgoodoftherace——health，strength，vigour。hereisnoharmthereintothesoul：onthecontrary，thosewhostunttheirphysicallifearemostcertainlystuntingtheirsouls。
Ibelieveallmannerofasceticismtobethevilestblasphemy——
blasphemytowardsthewholeofthehumanrace。Ibelieveinthefleshandthebody，whichisworthyofworship——toseeaperfecthumanbodyunveiledcausesasenseofworship。Theasceticsaretheonlypersonswhoareimpure。Increaseofphysicalbeautyisattendedbyincreaseofsoulbeauty。Thesoulisthehighevenbygazingonbeauty。Letmebefleshlyperfect。
ItisinmyselfthatIdesireincrease，profit，andexaltationofbody，mind，andsoul。Thesurroundings，theclothes，thedwelling，thesocialstatus，thecircumstancesaretomeutterlyindifferent。Lettheflooroftheroombebare，letthefurniturebeaplanktable，thebedamerepallet。Letthehousebeplainandsimple，butinthemidstofairandlight。Theseareenough——acavewouldbeenough；inawarmerclimatetheopenairwouldsuffice。Letmebefurnishedinmyselfwithhealth，safety，strength，theperfectionofphysicalexistence；letmymindbefurnishedwithhighestthoughtsofsoul—life。Letmebeinmyselfmyselffully。Thepageantryofpower，thestillmorefoolishpageantryofwealth，thesenselessprecedenceofplace；
wordsfailmetoexpressmyuttercontemptforsuchpleasureorsuchambitions。Letmebeinmyselfmyselffully，andthoseI
loveequallyso。
Itisenoughtolieontheswardintheshadowofgreenboughs，tolistentothesongsofsummer，todrinkinthesunlight，theair，theflowers，thesky，thebeautyofall。Oruponthehill—topstowatchthewhitecloudsrisingoverthecurvedhill—lines，theirshadowsdescendingtheslope。Oronthebeachtolistentothesweetsighasthesmoothsearunsupandrecedes。Itislyingbesidetheimmortals，in—drawingthelifeoftheocean，theearth，andthesun。
Iwanttobealwaysincompanywiththese，withearth，andsun，andsea，andstarsbynight。Thepettinessofhouse—life——chairsandtables——andthepettinessofobservances，thepettynecessityofuselesslabour，uselessbecauseproductiveofnothing，chafemetheyearthrough。I
wanttobealwaysincompanywiththesun，andsea，andearth。These，andthestarsbynight，aremynaturalcompanions。Myheartlooksbackandsympathiseswithallthejoyandlifeofancienttime。Withthecirclingdanceburnedinstillattitudeonthevase；withthechaseandthehuntereagerlypursuing，whosejavelintremblestobethrown；withtheextremefuryoffeeling，thewhirlofjoyinthewarriorsfromMarathontothelastbattleofRome，notwiththeslaughter，butwiththepassion——thelifeinthepassion；withthegarlandsandtheflowers；withallthebreathingbuststhathavepantedbeneaththesun。Obeautifulhumanlife!TearscomeinmyeyesasIthinkofit。Sobeautiful，soinexpressiblybeautiful!
Sodeepisthepassionoflifethat，ifitwerepossibletoliveagain，itmustbeexquisitetodiepushingtheeagerbreastagainstthesword。Intheflushofstrengthtofacethesharppainjoyously，andlaughinthelastglanceofthesun——ifonlytoliveagain，nowonearth，werepossible。Sosubtleisthechordoflifethatsometimestowatchtroopsmarchinginrhythmicorder，undulatingalongthecolumnasthefeetarelifted，bringstearsinmyeyes。
YetcouldIhaveinmyownheartallthepassion，theloveandjoy，burnedinthebreaststhathavepanted，breathingdeeply，sincethehourofIlion，yetstillIshoulddesiremore。HowwillinglyIwouldstrewthepathsofallwithflowers；howbeautifuladelighttomaketheworldjoyous!Thesongshouldneverbesilent，thedanceneverstill，thelaughshouldsoundlikewaterwhichrunsforever。
Iwouldsubmittoaseverediscipline，andtogowithoutmanythingscheerfully，forthegoodandhappinessofthehumanraceinthefuture。Eachoneofusshoulddosomething，howeversmall，towardsthatgreatend。Atthepresenttimethelabourofourpredecessorsinthiscountry，inallothercountriesoftheearth，isentirelywasted。Welive——thatis，wesnatchanexistence——andourworksbecomenothing。Thepilingupoffortunes，thebuildingofcities，theestablishmentofimmensecommerce，endsinacipher。TheseobjectsaresooutsidemyideathatI
cannotunderstandthem，andlookuponthestruggleinamazement。Noteventhepressureofpovertycanforceuponmeanunderstandingof，andsympathywith，thesethings。ItisthehumanbeingasthehumanbeingofwhomI
think。Thatthehumanbeingasthehumanbeing，nude——apartaltogetherfrommoney，clothing，houses，properties——shouldenjoygreaterhealth，strength，safety，beauty，andhappiness，IwouldgladlyagreetoadisciplinelikethatofSparta。TheSpartanmethoddidproducethefinestraceofmen，andSpartawasfamousinantiquityforthemostbeautifulwomen。Sofar，therefore，itfitsexactlytomyideas。
Noscienceofmoderntimeshasyetdiscoveredaplantomeettherequirementsofthemillionswholivenow，noplanbywhichtheymightattainsimilarphysicalproportion。Someincreaseoflongevity，someslightimprovementinthegeneralhealthispromised，andthesearegreatthings，butfar，farbeneaththeideal。Probablythewholemodeofthoughtofthenationsmustbealteredbeforephysicalprogressispossible。Notwhilemoney，furniture，affectedshowandthepageantryofwealtharetheambitionsofthemultitudecanthemultitudebecomeidealinform。Whentheambitionofthemultitudeisfixedontheidealofformandbeauty，thenthatidealwillbecomeimmediatelypossible，andamarkedadvancetowardsitcouldbemadeinthreegenerations。Glad，indeed，shouldIbetodiscoversomethingthatwouldhelptowardsthisend。
Howpleasantitwouldbeeachdaytothink，To—dayIhavedonesomethingthatwilltendtorenderfuturegenerationsmorehappy。Theverythoughtwouldmakethishoursweeter。Itisabsolutelynecessarythatsomethingofthiskindshouldbediscovered。First，wemustlaydowntheaxiomthatasyetnothinghasbeenfound；wehavenothingtostartwith；allhastobebegunafresh。Allcoursesormethodsofhumanlifehavehithertobeenfailures。Somecourseoflifeisneededbasedonthingsthatare，irrespectiveoftradition。Thephysicalidealmustbekeptsteadilyinview。
CHAPTERVIII
ANenumerationoftheuselesswouldalmostbeanenumerationofeverythinghithertopursued。Forinstance，togobackasfaraspossible，thestudyandlabourexpendedonEgyptianinscriptionsandpapyri，whichcontainnothingbutdoubtful，becauselaudatoryhistory，invocationstoidols，andsimilarmatters：alltheselaboursareinvain。
Takeabroomandsweepthepapyriawayintothedust。TheAssyrianterra—cottatablets，somerecordingfables，andsomeevensadder——contractsbetweenmenwhosebodiesweredusttwentycenturiessince——takeahammeranddemolishthem。Setabatterytobeatdownthepyramids，andamind—batterytodestroythedeadeninginfluenceoftradition。
TheGreekstatuelivestothisday，andhasthehighestuseofall，theuseoftruebeauty。TheGreekandRomanphilosophershavethevalueoffurnishingthemindwithmaterialtothinkfrom。EgyptianandAssyrian，mediaevalandeighteenth—centuryculture，miscalled，areallalikemeredust，andabsolutelyuseless。
Thereisamassofknowledgesocalledatthepresentdayequallyuseless，andnothingbutanencumbrance。Weareforcedbycircumstancestobecomefamiliarwithit，butthetimeexpendedonitislost。Nophysicalideal——farlessanysoul—
ideal——willeverbereachedbyit。Inarecentgenerationeruditioninthetextoftheclassicswasconsideredthemosthonourableofpursuits；certainlynothingcouldbelessvaluable。Inourowngeneration，anotherspeciesoferuditionislauded——eruditioninthelawsofmatter——which，initself，isbutonedegreebetter。Thestudyofmatterformatter’ssakeisdespicable；ifanycanturnthatstudytoadvancetheidealoflife，itimmediatelybecomesmostvaluable。Butnotwithoutthehumanideal。Itisnothingtomeiftheplanetsrevolvearoundthesun，orthesunaroundtheearth，unlessIcantherebygatheranincreaseofbodyormind。Astheconceptionoftheplanetsrevolvingaroundthesun，thepresentastronomicalconceptionoftheheavens，isdistinctlygranderthanthatofPtolemy，itisthereforesuperior，andagaintothehumanmind。Sowithothersciences，notimmediatelyuseful，yetiftheyfurnishthemindwithmaterialofthought，theyareanadvance。
Butnotinthemselves——onlyinconjunctionwiththehumanideal。
Onceletthatslipoutofthethought，andscienceisofnomoreusethantheinvocationsintheEgyptianpapyri。TheworldwouldbethegaineriftheNileroseandsweptawaypyramidandtomb，sarcophagus，papyri，andinscription；foritseemsasifmostofthesuperstitionswhichstilltothishour，inourowncountry，holdmindsintheirsway，originatedinEgypt。TheworldwouldbethegainerifaNilefloodofnewthoughtaroseandsweptawaythepast，concentratingtheeffortofalltheracesoftheearthuponman’sbody，thatitmightreachanidealofshape，andhealth，andhappiness。
Nothingisofanyuseunlessitgivesmeastrongerbodyandmind，amorebeautifulbody，ahappyexistence，andasoul—lifenow。Thelastphaseofphilosophyisequallyuselesswiththerest。Thebeliefthatthehumanmindwasevolved，intheprocessofunnumberedyears，fromafragmentofpalpitatingslimethroughathousandgradations，isamodernsuperstition，andproceedsuponassumptionalone。
Nothingisevolved，noevolutiontakesplace，thereisnorecordofsuchanevent；itispureassertion。Thetheoryfascinatesmany，becausetheyfind，uponstudyofphysiology，thatthegradationsbetweenanimalandvegetablearesofineandsoclosetogether，asifacommonwebboundthemtogether。Butalthoughtheystandsoneartheyneverchangeplaces。Theyarelikethefiguresonthefaceofaclock；thereareminutedotsbetween，apparentlyconnectingeachwiththeother，andthehandsmoveroundoverall。Yettenneverbecomestwelve，andeachsecondevenispartedfromthenext，asyoumayhearbylisteningtothebeat。Sothegradationsoflife，pastandpresent，thoughstandingclosetogetherneverchangeplaces。Nothingisevolved。
Thereisnoevolutionanymorethanthereisanydesigninnature。Bystandingfacetofacewithnature，andnotfrombooks，Ihaveconvincedmyselfthatthereisnodesignandnoevolution。Whatthereis，whatwasthecause，howandwhy，isnotyetknown；certainlyitwasneitherofthese。
Butitmaybearguedtheworldmusthavebeencreated，oritmusthavebeenmadeofexistingthings，oritmusthavebeenevolved，oritmusthaveexistedforever，throughalleternity。
Ithinknot。Idonotthinkthateitheroftheseare\"musts，\"northatany\"must\"hasyetbeendiscovered；noteventhatthere\"must\"beafirstcause。
Theremaybeotherthings——otherphysicalforceseven——ofwhichweknownothing。Istronglysuspectthereare。Theremaybeotherideasaltogetherfromanywehavehithertohadtheuseof。Formanyagesourideashavebeenconfinedtotwoorthree。Wehaveconceivedtheideaofcreation，whichisthehighestandgrandestofall，ifnothistoricallytrue；wehaveconceivedtheideaofdesign，thatisofanintelligencemakingorderandrevolutionofchaos；andwehaveconceivedtheideaofevolutionbyphysicallawsofmatter，which，thoughnowsomuchinsistedon，isasancientastheGreekphilosophers。Buttheremaybeanotheralternative；Ithinkthereareotheralternatives。
Wheneverthemindobtainsawiderviewwemayfindthatorigin。
forinstance，isnotalwaysduetowhatisunderstoodbycause。
Atthismomentthemindisunabletoconceiveofanythinghappening，orofanythingcomingintoexistence，withoutacause。Fromcausetoeffectisthesequenceofourideas。ButIthinkthatifatsometimeweshouldobtainanaltogetherdifferentandbroadersequenceofideas，wemaydiscoverthattherearevariousotheralternatives。Astheworld，andtheuniverseatlarge，wasnotconstructedaccordingtoplan，soitisclearthatthesequenceorcircleofideaswhichincludesplan，andcause，andeffect，arenotinthecircleofideaswhichwouldcorrectlyexplainit。Putasidetheplan—circleofideas，anditwillatoncebeevidentthatthereisnoinherentnecessityor\"must。\"Thereisnoinherentnecessityforafirstcause，orthattheworldandtheuniversewascreated，orthatitwasshapedofexistingmatter，orthatitevolveditselfanditsinhabitants，orthatthecosmoshasexistedinvaryingformsforever。Theremaybeotheralternativesaltogether。TheonlyideaIcangiveistheideathatthereisanotheridea。
Inthis\"must\"——\"itmustfollow\"——liesmyobjectiontothelogicofscience。
Theargumentsproceedfrompremisestoconclusions，andendwiththeassumption\"itthereforefollows。\"ButIsaythat，howevercarefullytheargumentbebuiltup，eventhoughapparentlyflawless，thereisnosuchthingatpresentas\"itmustfollow。\"Humanideasatpresentnaturallyformaplan，andabalanceddesign；theymightbeindicatedbyageometricalfigure，anuprightstraightlineinthecentre，andbranchingfromthatstraightlinecurvesoneitherhandexactlyequaltoeachother。Indrawingthatishowwearetaught，tobalancetheoutlineorcurvesononesidewiththecurvesontheother。Innatureandinfactthereisnosuchthing。Thestemofatreerepresentstheuprightline，butthebranchesdonotbalance；
thoseononesidearelargerorlongerthanthoseontheother。Nothingisstraight，butallthingscurved，crooked，andunequal。
Thehumanbodyisthemostremarkableinstanceofinequality，lackofbalance，andwantofplan。Theexteriorisbeautifulinitslines，butthetwohands，thetwofeet，thetwosidesoftheface，thetwosidesoftheprofile，arenotpreciselyequal。
Theverynailsofthefingersaresetajar，asitwere，tothelinesofthehand，andnotquitestraight。Examinationoftheinteriororgansshowsatotalabsenceofbalance。Theheartisnotinthecentre，nordotheorganscorrespondinanyway。Thevisceraarewhollyopposedtoplan。
Coming，lastly，tothebones，thesehavenohumanity，asitwere，ofshape；
theyareneitherroundnorsquare；thefirstsightofthemcausesasenseofhorror，soextra—humanaretheyinshape；thereisnobalanceofdesigninthem。Theseareverybriefexamples，butthewholeuniverse，sofarasitcanbeinvestigated，isequallyunequal。Nostraightlinerunsthroughit，withbalancedcurveseachside。
Letthisthoughtnowbecarriedintotherealmsofthought。Themind，orcircle，orsequenceofideas，acts，orthinks，orexistsinabalance，orwhatseemsabalancetoit。Astraightlineofthoughtissetinthecentre，withequalbrancheseachside，andwithagenerallyroundedoutline。
Butthiscorrespondstonothingintangiblefact。HenceI
think，byanalogy，wemaysupposethatneitherdoesitcorrespondtothecircleofideaswhichcausedusandallthingstobe，or，atallevents，tothecircleofideaswhichaccuratelyunderstandusandallthings。Thereareotherideasaltogether。
>Fromstandingfacetofacesolongwiththerealearth，therealsun，andtherealsea，Iamfirmlyconvincedthatthereisanimmenserangeofthoughtquiteunknowntousyet。
Theproblemofmyownexistencealsoconvincesmethatthereismuchmore。
Thequestionsare：Didmysoulexistbeforemybodywasformed？Ordiditcomeintolifewithmybody，asaproduct，likeaflame，ofcombustion？Whatwillbecomeofitafterdeath？Willitsimplygooutlikeaflameandbecomenon—existent，orwillitliveforeverinoneorothermode？TothesequestionsIamunabletofindanyanswerwhatsoever。Inourpresentrangeofideasthereisnoreplytothem。Imayhavepreviouslyexisted；Imaynothavepreviouslyexisted。Imaybeaproductofcombustion；Imayexistonafterphysicallifeissuspended，orImaynot。Nodemonstrationispossible。ButwhatIwanttosayisthatthealternativesofextinctionorimmortalitymaynotbetheonlyalternatives。Theremaybesomethingelse，morewonderfulthanimmortality，andfarbeyondandabovethatidea。
Theremaybesomethingimmeasurablysuperiortoit。Asourideashaverunincirclesforcenturies，itisdifficulttofindwordstoexpresstheideathatthereareotherideas。Formyself，thoughIcannotfullyexpressmyself，Ifeelfullyconvincedthatthereisavastimmensityofthought，ofexistence，andofotherthingsbeyondevenimmortalexistence。