d, the all-pervasive Presence; it is the veil--the veil
that covers the face of God.

[Footnote 24: _Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey_, stanza
3, ll. 36-45.]

[Footnote 25: Psalm cxxxix. 7-9.]

[Footnote 26: Psalm cii. 25-27.]

Here, then, we have the contrasting attitude of worldling and believer
toward nature, the outward universe. Now we come to the contrasting
attitude of humanist and believer toward man, the world within. For
why are we so sure, first, of the chasm between ourselves and
Nature and, second, that we can bridge that chasm by reaching out to
something behind and beyond her which is more like us than her?
What gives us the key to her dualism? Why do we think that there is
Something which perpetually beckons to us through her, makes awful
signs of an intimate and significant relationship? Because we feel
a similar chasm, an equal cleft in our own hearts, a division in the
moral nature of mankind. We know that gulf between us and the outward
world because we know the greater gulf between flesh and spirit,
between the natural man and the real man, between the "I" and the
"other I."

Here is where the humanist bids us good-by and we must go forward on
our road alone. For he will not acknowledge that there is anything
essential or permanent in that divided inner world; he would minimize
it or explain it away. But we know it is there and the reason we know
there is Something without which can bridge the outer chasm is because
we also know there is Something-Else within which might bridge this
one. For we who are religious know that within the depths and the
immensities of this inner world, where there is no space but where
there is infinite largeness, where there is no time but where there is
perpetual strife, there is Something-Else as well as the "I" and the
"other I," and it is that He who is the Something-Else who alone can
close the gap in that divided kingdom and make us one with ourselves,
hence with Himself and hence with His world.

You ask how we can say, "He's there; He knows." We answer that this
"other," this "He" is a constant figure in the experience; always
in the vision; an integral part of the perception. What is He like?
"He" is purity and compassion and inexorableness. Something
fixed, immutable, not to be tricked, not to be evaded and oh!
all-comprehending. He sees, his eyes run to and fro in all the dark
and wide, the light and high dominions of the soul. If we will