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old age and death。 Of all the inventions of casuistry with man for ages has
in various ways which manacled himself； and stayed his own advance； there is
none equally potent with the supposition that nothing more is possible。 Once
well impress on the mind that it has already all； that advance is impossible
because there is nothing further； and it is chained like a horse to an iron
pin in the ground。 It is the most deadlythe most fatal poison of the mind。
No such casuistry has ever for a moment held me； but still； if permitted；
the constant routine of house…life； the same work； the same thought in the
work； the little circumstances regularly recurring； will dull the keenest
edge of thought。 By my daily pilgrimage； I escaped from it back to the sun。
In summer the leaves of the aspen rustled pleasantly； there was
the tinkle of falling water over a hatch； thrushes sang and
blackbirds whistled； greenfinches laughed in their talk to each
other。 The commonplace dusty road was commonplace no longer。
In the dust was the mark of the chaffinches' little feet； the
white light rendered even the dust brighter to look on。 The air
came from the south…westthere were distant hills in that
directionover fields of grass and corn。 As I visited the spot
from day to day the wheat grew from green to yellow； the wild
roses flowered； the scarlet poppies appeared； and again the
beeches reddened in autumn。 In the march of time there fell
away from my mind； as the leaves from the trees in autumn； the
last traces and relics of superstitions and traditions acquired
compulsorily in childhood。 Always feebly adhering； they finally
disappeared。
There fell away； too； personal bias and prejudices； enabling me
to see clearer and with wider sympathies。 The glamour of
modern science and discoveries faded away； for I found them no
more than the first potter's wheel。 Erasure and reception
proceeded together； the past accumulations of casuistry were
erased； and my thought widened to receive the idea of something
beyond all previous ideas。 With disbelief； belief increased。
The aspiration and hope； the prayer； was the same as that which
I felt years before on the hills； only it now broadened。
Experience of life； instead of curtailing and checking my prayer； led me to
reject experience altogether。 As well might
the horse believe that the road the bridle forces it to traverse
every day encircles the earth as I believe in experience。 All
the experience of the greatest city in the world could not
withhold me。 I rejected it wholly。 I stood bare…headed before
the sun； in the presence of the earth and air； in the presence
of the immense forces of the universe。 I demand that which will make me more
perfect now； this hour。 London convinced me of my own thought。 That thought
has always been with me； and always grows wider。
One midsummer I went out of the road into the fields； and sat
down on the grass between the yellowing wheat and the green
hawthorn bushes。 The sun burned in the sky； the wheat was full
of a luxuriant sense of growth； the grass high； the earth giving
its vigour to tree and leaf； the heaven blue。 The vigour and
growth； the warmth and light； the beauty and richness of it
entered into me； an ecstasy of soul accompanied the delicate
excitement of the senses： the soul rose with the body。 Rapt in
the fulness of the moment； I prayed there with all that
expansion of mind and frame； no words； no definition；
inexpressible desire of physical life； of soul…life； equal to
and beyond the highest imagining of my heart。
These memories cannot be placed in exact chronological order。
There was a time when a weary restlessness came upon me； perhaps from
too…long…continued labour。 It was like a droughta moral droughtas if I
had been absent for many years from the sources of life and hope。 The inner
nature was faint； all was dry and tasteless； I was weary for the pure； fresh
springs of thought。 Some instinctive feeling uncontrollable drove me to the
sea； I was so under its influence that I could not arrange the journey so as
to get the longest day。 I merely started； and of course had to wait and
endure much inconvenience。 To get to the sea at some quiet spot was my one
thought； to do so I had to travel farther； and from want of prearrangement
it was between two and three in the afternoon before I reached the end of my
journey。 Even then； being too much preoccupied to inquire the way； I missed
the road and had to walk a long distance before coming to the shore。 But I
found the sea at last； I walked beside it in a trance away from the houses
out into the wheat。 he ripe corn stood up to the beach； the waves on one
side of the shingle； and the yellow wheat on the other。
There； alone； I went down to the sea。 I stood where the foam
came to my feet； and looked out over the sunlit waters。 The
great earth bearing the richness of the harvest； and its hills
golden with corn； was at my back； its strength and firmness
under me。 The great sun shone above； the wide sea was before
me； the wind came sweet and strong from the waves。 The life of
the earth and the sea； the glow of the sun filled me； I touched
the surge with my hand； I lifted my face to the sun； I opened my
lips to the wind。 I prayed aloud in the roar of the wavesmy
soul was strong as the sea and prayed with the sea's might。 Give me fulness
of life like to the sea and the sun； to the earth and the air； give me
fulness of physical life； mind equal and beyond their fulness； give me a
greatness and perfection of soul higher than all things； give me my
inexpressible desire which swells in me like a tidegive it to me with all
the force of the sea。
Then I rested； sitting by the wheat； the bank of beach was
between me and the sea； but the waves beat against it； the sea
was there； the sea was present and at hand。 By the dry wheat I
rested； I did not think； I was inhaling the richness of the sea；
all the strength and depth of meaning of the sea and earth came
to me again。 I rubbed out some of the wheat in my hands； I took
up a piece of clod and crumbled it in my fingersit was a joy to touch
itI held my hand so that I could see the sunlight gleam on the slightly
moist surface of the skin。 The earth and sunwere to me like my flesh and
blood； and the air of the sea
life。
With all the greater existence I drew from them I prayed for a
bodily life equal to it； for a soul…life beyond my thought； for
my inexpressible desire of more than I could shape even into
idea。 There was something higher than idea； invisible to
thought as air to the eye； give me bodily life equal in fulness
to the strength of earth； and sun； and sea； give me the soul…
life of my desire。 Once more I went down to the sea； touched
it； and said farewell。 So deep was the inhalation of this life
that day； that it seemed to remain in me for years。 This was a
real pilgrimage。
Time passed away； with more labour； pleasure； and again at last； after much
pain and wearinesss of mind； I came down again to the sea。 The circumstances
were changedit was not a hurried glancethere were opportunities for
longer thought。 It mattered scarcely anything to me now whether I was alone；
or whether houses and other people were near。 Nothing could disturb my
inner vision。 By the sea； aware of the sun overhead； and the
blue heaven； I feel that there is nothing between me and space。
This is the verge of a gulf； and a tangent from my feet goes
straight unchecked into the unnknown。 It is the edge of the abyss as much as
if the earth were cut away in a sheer fall of
eight thousand miles to the sky beneath； thence a hollow to the
stars。 Looking straight out is looking straight down； the eye…
glance gradually departs from the sea…level； and； rising as that
falls； enters the hollow of heaven。 It is gazing along the face
of a vast precipice into the hollow space which is nameless。
There mystery has been placed； but realising the vast hollow
yonder makes me feel that the mystery is here。 I； who am here
on the verge； standing on the margin of the sky； am in the mystery itself。
If I let my eye look back upon me from the extreme opposite of heaven； then
this spot where I stand is in the centre of the hollow。 Alone with the sea
and sky； I presently feel all the depth and wonder of the unknown come back
surging up around； and touching me as the foam runs to my feet。 I am in it
now； not to…morrow； this moment； I cannot escape from it。 Though I may
deceive myself with labour； yet still I am in it； in sleep too。 There is no
escape from this immensity。
Feeling this by the sea； under the sun； my life enlarges and
quickens； striving to take to itself the largeness of the heaven。 The frame
cannot expand； but the soul is able to stand
before it。 No giant's body could be in proportion to the earth；
but a little spirit is equal to the entire cosmos； to earth and
ocean； sun and star…hollow。 These are but a few acres to it。
Were the cosmos twice as wide； the soul could run over it；
and return to itself in a time so small； no measure exists to mete it。
Therefore； I think the soul may sometimes find out an existence as superior
as my mind is to the dead chalk cliff。
With the great sun bu