y could dare to write to the friends whom they
admired and loved, and praise them for being what they were. Of course
if such a custom were to become general, it would be clumsily spoilt by
foolish persons, as all things are spoilt which become conventional.
But the fact remains that the sweet pleasure of praising, of
encouraging, of admiring and telling our admiration, is one that we
English people are sparing of, to our own loss and hurt. It is just as
false to refrain from saying a generous thing for fear of being thought
insincere and what is horribly called gushing, as it is to say a hard
thing for the sake of being thought straightforward. If a hard thing
must be said, let us say it with pain and tenderness, but faithfully.
And if a pleasant thing can be said, let us say it with joy, and with
no less faithfulness.

Now I must return to my earlier purpose, and say that I mean that this
little book shall go about with me, and that I will write in it only
strange and beautiful things. I have many businesses in the world, and
take delight in many of them; but we cannot always be busy. So when I
have seen or heard something that gives me joy, whether it be a new
place, or, what is better still, an old familiar place transfigured by
some happy accident of sun or moon into a mystery; or if I have been
told of a generous and beautiful deed, or heard even a sad story that
has some seed of hope within it; or if I have met a gracious and kindly
person; or if I have read a noble book, or seen a rare picture or a
curious flower; or if I have heard a delightful music; or if I have
been visited by one of those joyful and tender thoughts that set my
feet the right way, I will try to put it down, God prospering me. For
thus I think that I shall be truly interpreting his loving care for the
little souls of men. And I call my book _The Thread of Gold_, because
this beauty of which I have spoken seems to me a thing which runs like
a fine and precious clue through the dark and sunless labyrinths of the
world.

And, lastly, I pray God with all my heart, that he may, in this matter,
let me help and not hinder his will. I often cannot divine what his
will is, but I have seen and heard enough to be sure that it is high
and holy, even when it seems to me hard to discern, and harder still to
follow. Nothing shall here be set down that does not seem to me to be
perfectly pure and honest; nothing that is not wise and true. It may