the story of my heart-第5部分

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reason　at　all　why　they　should　not　take　place　this　day。　I　do　not
even　say　that　there　are　or　ever　have　been　miracles；　but　I　maintain　that　they
would　be　perfectly　natural。　The　wonder　rather　is　that　they　do　not　happen
frequently。　Consider　the　limitless　conceptions　of　the　soul：　let　it　possess
but　the　power　to　realise　those　conceptions　for　one　hour；　and　how　little；　how
trifling　would　be　the　helping　of　the　injured　or　the　sick　to　regain　health
and　happinessmerely　to　think　it。　A　soul…work　would　require　but　a　thought。
Soul…work　is　an　expression　better　suited　to　my　meaning　than　〃miracle；〃　a
term　like　others　into　which　a　special　sense　has　been　infused。

When　I　consider　that　I　dwell　this　moment　in　the　eternal　Now　that
has　ever　been　and　will　be；　that　I　am　in　the　midst　of　immortal
things　this　moment；　that　there　probably　are　Souls　as　infinitely
superior　to　mine　as　mine　to　a　piece　of　timber；　what　then；　pray；
is　a　〃miracle〃？　As　commonly　understood；　a　〃miracle〃　is　a　mere　nothing。　I　can
conceive　soul…works　done　by　simple　will　or　thought　a　thousand　times　greater。
I　marvel　that　they　do　not
happen　this　moment。　The　air；　the　sunlight；　the　night；　all　that
surrounds　me　seems　crowded　with　inexpressible　powers；　with　the
influence　of　Souls；　or　existences；　so　that　I　walk　in　the　midst
of　immortal　things。　I　myself　am　a　living　witness　of　it。
Sometimes　I　have　concentrated　myself；　and　driven　away　by　continued　will　all
sense　of　outward　appearances；　looking
straight　with　the　full　power　of　my　mind　inwards　on　myself。
I　find　〃I〃　am　there；　an　〃I〃　I　do　not　wholly　understand；　or　knowsomething
is　there　distinct　from　earth　and　timber；　from　flesh　and　bones。　　Recognising
it；　I　feel　on　the　margin　of　a　life　unknown；　very　near；　almost　touching　it：
on　the　verge　of　powers　which　if　I　could　grasp　would　give　me　an　immense
breadth　of　existence；　an　ability　to　execute　what　I　now　only　conceive；　most
probably　of　far　more　than　that。　To　see　that　〃I〃　is　to　know　that　I　am
surrounded　with　immortal　things。　If；　when　I　die；　that　〃I〃　also　dies；　and
becomes　extinct；　still　even　then　I　have　had　the
exaltation　of　these　ideas。

How　many　words　it　has　taken　to　describe　so　briefly　the　feelings
and　the　thoughts　that　came　to　me　by　the　tumulus；　thoughts　that
swept　past　and　were　gone；　and　were　succeeded　by　others　while　yet
the　shadow　of　the　mound　had　not　moved　from　one　thyme　flower　to
another；　not　the　breadth　of　a　grass　blade。　　Softly　breathed　the　sweet　south
wind；　gently　the　yellow　corn　waved　beneath；　the　ancient；　ancient　sun　shone
on　the　fresh　grass　and　the　flower；　my　heart　opened　wide　as　the　broad；　broad
earth。　I　spread　my　arms　out；　laying　them　on　the　sward；　seizing　the　grass；　to
take　the　fulness　of　the　days。　Could　I　have　my　own　way　after　death　I　would　be
burned　on　a　pyre　of　pine…wood；　open　to　the　air；　and　placed　on　the　summit　of
the　hills。　Then　let　my　ashes　be　scattered　abroadnot　collected　urn　an
urnfreely　sown　wide　and　broadcast。　That　is　the　natural　interment　of
manof　man　whose　Thought　at　least　has　been　among　the　immortals；　interment
in　the　elements。　Burial　is　not　enough；　it　does　not　give　sufficient　solution
into　the　elements　speedily；　a　furnace　is　confined。　The　high　open　air　of　the
topmost　hill；　there　let　the　tawny　flame　lick　up　the　fragment　called　the
body；　there　cast　the　ashes　into　the　space　it　longed　for　while　living。　　Such
a　luxury　of　interment　is　only　for　the　wealthy；　I　fear　I　shall　not　be　able　to
afford　it。　Else　the　smoke　of　my　resolution　into　the　elements　should
certainly　arise　in　time　on　the　hill…top。

The　silky　grass　sighs　as　the　wind　comescarrying　the　blue　butterfly　more
rapidly　thanhis　wings。　A　large　humble…bee　burrs　round　the　green　dome　against
which　I　rest；　my　hands　are　scented　with　thyme。　　The　sweetness　of　the　day；
the　fulness　of　the　earth；　the　beauteous　earth；　how　shall　I　say　it？

Three　things　only　have　been　discovered　of　that　which　concerns　the　inner
consciousness　since　before　written　history　began。　Three　things　only　in
twelve　thousand　written；　or　sculptured；　years；　and　in　the　dumb；　dim　time
before　then。　Three　ideas　the　Cavemen　primeval　wrested　from　the　unknown；　the
night　which　is　round　us　still　in　daylightthe　existence　of　the　soul；　im…
mortality；　the　deity。　These　things　found；　prayer　followed　as　a　sequential
result。　Since　then　nothing　further　has　been　found　in　all　the　twelve　thousand
years；　as　if　men　had　been　satisfied　and　had　found　these　to　suffice。　They　do
not　suffice　me。　I　desire　to　advance　further；　and　to　wrest　afourth；　and　even
still　more　than　a　fourth；　from　the　darkness　of　thought。　I　want　more　ideas　of
soul…life。　I　am　certain　that　there　are　more　yet　to　be　found。　A　great
lifean　entire　civilisationlies　just　outside　the　pale　of　common　thought。
Cities　and　countries；　inhabitants；　intelligences；　culturean　entire
civilisation。　　Except　by　illustrations　drawn　from　familiar　things；　there　is
no　way　of
indicating　a　new　idea。　I　do　not　mean　actual　cities；　actual　civilisation。
Such　life　is　different　from　any　yet　imagined。　A　nexus　of　ideas　exists　of
which　nothing　is　knowna　vast　system　of　ideasa　cosmos　of　thought。　　There
is　an　Entity；　a　Soul…Entity；　as　yet　unrecognised。　These；　rudely　expressed；
constitute　my　Fourth　Idea。　It　is　beyond；　or　beside；　the　three　discovered　by
the　Cavemen；　it　is　in　addition　to　the　existence　of　the　soul；　in　addition　to
immortality；　and　beyond　the　idea　of　the　deity。　I　think　there　is　something
more　than　existence。

There　is　an　immense　ocean　over　which　the　mind　can　sail；　upon　which　the
vessel　of　thought　has　not　yet　been　launched。　I　hope
to　launch　it。　The　mind　of　so　many　thousand　years　has　worked
round　and　round　inside　the　circle　of　these　three　ideas　as　a
boat　on　an　inland　lake。　Let　us　haul　it　over　the　belt　of　land；
launch　on　the　ocean；　and　sail　outwards。

There　is　so　much　beyond　all　that　has　ever　yet　been　imagined。
As　I　write　these　words；　in　the　very　moment；　I　feel　that　the
whole　air；　the　sunshine　out　yonder　lighting　up　the
ploughed　earth；　the　distant　sky；　the　circumambient　ether；　and
that　far　space；　is　full　of　soul…secrets；　soul…life；　things
outside　the　experience　of　all　the　ages。　The　fact　of　my　own
existence　as　I　write；　as　I　exist　at　this　second；　is　so
marvellous；　so　miracle…like；　strange；　and　supernatural　to　me；
that　I　unhesitatingly　conclude　I　am　always　on　the　margin　of　life
illimitable；　and　that　there　are　higher　conditions　than
existence。　　Everything　around　is　supernatural；　everything　so
full　of　unexplained　meaning。

Twelve　thousand　years　since　the　Caveman　stood　at　the　mouth　of　his　cavern　and
gazed　out　at　the　night　and　the　stars。　He　looked　again　and　saw　the　sun　rise
beyond　the　sea。　He　reposed　in　the　noontide　heat　under　the　shade　of　the
trees；　he　closed　his　eyes　and　looked　into　himself。　　He　was　face　to　face　with
the　earth；　the　sun；　the　night；　face　to　face　with　himself。　There　was　nothing
between；　no　wall　of　written　tradition；　no　builtup　system　of
culturehis　naked　mind　was　confronted　by　naked　earth。　He　made
three　idea…discoveries；　wresting　them　from　the　unknown；　the
existence　of　his　soul；　immortality；　the　deity。　Now；　to…day；　as
I　write；　I　stand　in　exactly　the　same　position　as　the　Caveman。
Written　tradition；　systems　of　culture；　modes　of　thought；　have
for　me　no　existence。　If　ever　they　took　any　hold　of　my　mind　it
must　have　been　very　slight；　they　have　long　ago　been　erased。

》From　earth　and　sea　and　sun；　from　night；　the　stars；　from　day；
the　trees；　the　hills；　from　my　own　soulfrom　these　I　think。　I
stand　this　moment　at　the　mouth　of　the　ancient　cave；　face　to　face　with
nature；　face　to　face　with　the　supernatural；　with　myself。　My　naked　mind
confronts　the　unknown。　I　see　as　clearly　as　the　noonday　that　this　is　not　all；
I　see　other　and　higher　conditions　than　existence；　I　see　not　only　the
existence　of　the　soul；　immortality；　but；　in　addition；　I　realise　a　soul…life
illimitable；　I　realise　the　existence　of　a　cosmos　of　thought；　I
realise　the　existence　of　an　inexpressible　entity　infinitely
higher　than　deity。　I　strive　to　give　utterance　to　a　Fourth　Idea。
The　very　idea　that　there　is　another　idea　is　something　gained。
The　three　found　by　the　Cavemen　are　but　steppingstones：　first
links　of　an　endless　chain。　At　the　mouth　of　the　ancient　cave；
face　to　face　with　the　unknown；　they　prayed。　Prone　in　heart　to…
day　I　pray；　Give　me　the　deepest　soul…life。

CHAPTER　IV

THE　wind　sighs　through　the　grass；　sighs　in　the　sunshine；　it　has
drifted　the　butterfly　eastwards　along　the　hill。　A　few　yards
away　there　lies　the　skull　of　a　lamb　on　the　turf；　white　and
bleached；　picked　clean　long　since　by　crows　and　ants。　Like　the
faint　ripple　of　the　summer　sea　sounding　in　the　hollow　of　the
ear；　so　the　sweet　air　ripples　in　the　grass。　The　ashes　of　the
man　interred　in　the　tumuius　are　indistinguishable；　they　have
sunk　away　like　rain　into　the　earth；　so　his　body　has　disappeared。
I　am　under　no　delusion；　I　am　fully　aware　that　no　demonstration　can　be　given
of　the　three　stepping…stones　of　the　Cavemen。　The　soul　is　inscrutable；　it　is
not　in　evidence　to　show　that　it　exists；　immortality　is　not　tangible。　Full
well　I　know　that
reason　and　knowledge　and　experience　tend　to　disprove　all　three；
that　experience　denies　answer　to　prayer。　I　am　under　no　delusion
whatever；　I　grasp　death　firmly　in　conception　as　I　can　grasp　this
bleached　bone；　utter　extinction；　annihilation。　That　the　soul　is
a　product　at　best　of　organic　composition；　that　it　goes　out　like
a　flame。　This　may　be　the　end；　my　soul　may　sink　like　rain　into
the　earth　and　disappear。　Wind　and　earth；　sea；　and　night　and
day；　what　then？　Let　my　soul　be　but　a　product；　what　then？　I　say　it　is　nothing
to　me；　this　only　I　know；　that　while　I　have　livednow；　this　moment；　while　I
liveI　think　immortality；　I　lift　my　mind　to　a　Fourth　Idea。　　If　I　pass　into
utter　oblivion；　yet　I　have　had　that。

The　original　three　ideas　of　the　Cavemen　became　encumbered　with
superstition；　ritual　grew　up；　and　ceremony；　and　long　ranks　of
souls　were　painted　on　papyri　waiting　to　be　weighed　in　the　scales；and　to　be
punished　or　rewarded。　These　cobwebs　grotesque　have　sullied　the　original
discoveries　and　cast　them
into　discredit。　Erase　them　altogether；　and　consider　only　the　underlying
principles。　The　principles　do　not　go　far　enough；　but　I　shall　not　discard　all
of　them　for　that。　Even　supposing　the　pure　prin