things.

Every object and every man tells the same story with its different
texture, with its own tongue. One plan is written in every atom, woven
in and through and around us in a veritable robe of glory.... The
farther a man goes in vision, the more he sees that the plan is for joy;
that the plan is one; that separateness and self-sense is illusion and
pain; that one story is written in every stone and leaf and star and
heart--the one great love story of the universe.

Miracles? They are everywhere; every day to one who enters upon the
higher vision. I heard a young man speak for an hour recently--rising to
superb rhythm, his voice modulated, his mind constructive and inspired.
Three years ago he was inarticulate. No process of intellectual training
could have brought him even the beginnings of mastery in this period--or
in thirty years. He had listened until he was full, and then had spoken.

Miracles every day here. I am sometimes in awe of these young beings who
show me such wisdom, in years when the human child is supposed to be
callow and fatuous, his voice even a distraction.... It is only that
they have come to see the illusion of detached things; to relate and
cohere all together by the use of the power that seeks to flood through
them. I am in awe before them many times. The child that can see
fairies in wood and water and stone shall see so very soon the Ineffable
Seven and the downcast immortals in the eyes of friends and strangers.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] From _Midstream_.

23

MORE ABOUT ORDER

The order of the narrow-templed men is not to be criticised in itself.
In fact it must be accomplished before the fresh complications and the
resulting larger dimensions of faculty may be entered upon. The error
lies in the hardening of the perceptions of children, through the
existing methods of purely mental training; and in the manner of adult
life, wherein the one imperious aim is dollar-making.

The men employed in the building here worked ten hours the day. No man
lives who can do a thing well for ten hours a day as a habit. The last
two or three hours of such a working-day is but a prolongation of strain
and hunger. Here is a little town full of old young men. There is no
help for him who "soldiers," since that is the hardest work. If you look
at the faces of a half-hundred men engaged upon any labour, you will
observe that the tiredest faces belong to those of the structurally
inert--the ones wh