, and recognise that I am
speaking a simple truth.

Some, indeed, find their way thither through religion; but none whose
religion is like Milton's. Indeed, part of the wonder of the secret is
the infinite number of paths that lead there; they are all lonely; the
moment is unexpected; indeed, as was the case with myself, it is
possible to set foot within, and yet not to know it at the time.

It is this secret which constitutes the innermost brotherhood of the
world. The innermost, I say, because neither creed, nor nationality,
nor occupation, nor age, nor sex affects the matter. It is difficult,
or shall I say unusual, for the old to enter; and most find the way
there in youth, before habit and convention have become tyrannous, and
have fenced the path of life with hedges and walls.

Again it is the most secret brotherhood of the world; no one can dare
to make public proclamation of it, no one can gather the saints
together, for the essence of the brotherhood is its isolation. One may
indeed recognise a brother or a sister, and that is a blessed moment;
but one must not speak of it in words; and indeed there is no need of
words, where all that matters is known. It may be asked what are the
benefits which this secret brings. It does not bring laughter, or
prosperity, or success, or even cheerfulness; but it brings a high,
though fitful, joy--a joy that can be captured, practised, retained.
No one can, I think, of set purpose, capture the secret. No one can
find the way by desiring it. And yet the desire to do so is the seed
of hope. And if it be asked, why I write and print these veiled words
about so deep and intimate a mystery, I would reply that it is because
not all who have found the way, know that they have found it; and my
hope is that these words of mine may show some restless hearts that
they have found it. For one may find the shrine in youth, and for want
of knowing that one has found it, may forget it in middle age; and that
is what I sorrowfully think that not a few of my brothers do. And the
sign of such a loss is that such persons speak contemptuously and
disdainfully of their visions, and try to laugh and deride the young
and gracious out of such hopes; which is a sin that is hateful to God,
a kind of murder of souls.

And now I have travelled a long way from where I began, but the path
was none of my own making. It was Milton, that fierce and childish
poet, that held open the door, and wi