er that he is a saviour, and
carry humanity with him, his will would be inflexible and every act an
exulting humility. All nature is but a mantle which the wind of my
spirit disposes in folds about me, and humanity is the chalice in
which I may communicate with God,--a chalice woven of our singing
flesh and heart and brain and will, wherein the will is its depth, the
Atlas which bears the Sacred Body and Blood when it is given to us.

August 26.

Sorrow has come at last. Full moon, and life is at the flood. The
precept of all adversity is of course that the ebb tide of fortune is
our flood toward God. Even the lamp tonight is singing in the room.

August 27.

The experience still turns inward to the heart of life. I now see the
core of it. It burns, of course, but think of the wheel it carries. A
few days ago I was on the circumference. Now I have found the center.
A day of rain and wind and exterior disturbances. But I have found my
cenacle.

August 28.

A victory for the will. ... It is strange that every vital lesson that
experience teaches can never be expressed in words. The past few days
have taught me more than the rest of the summer. There will always be
a secrecy of the soul, and what this contains constitutes God's image
and likeness. Life sings tonight in every atom its marvelous chemistry
of change and prophecy. Nature knows no elegies, since it may never
triumph over aught but dust. But the highest dream is less worthy than
the simplest deed, and we must forget the knowledge of good and evil.
I would exchange all the knowledge I have gained for the grace to
perform the slightest act of St. Francis. God has made our opportunity
infinite by giving us an eternal standard of values,--that is all.

August 29.

I am afraid to write further for fear that I shall soon become
self-conscious. ... It is strange that the will did not come home to
me as a complete experience before. I simply had the foreboding of it.
This summer on the 9th of August I heard the Fourth Syllable in its
awfulness for the first time, and understood the mystery of the
Redemption. The time has now come to close this book, for the record
is complete, and may not be reopened until I redeem my will.

_They departed into their own country another way_.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FORGOTTEN THRESHOLD***

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