ableness, spontaneity, a certain monumental
ease, and a general feeling of expansion and liberation.

It must, if it belong to nature, convey that magical and world-deep
sadness which springs from an inarticulate appeal; or, if it belong
to art, that wistful loneliness which springs from the creation of
immortality by the hands of mortality.

The above principles are not offered as in any way exhaustive.
They are outlined as a temporary starting point and suggestion for
the more penetrating analysis which the future will surely provide.
And I have temporally excluded from them, as can be seen, all
references to those auxiliary elements drawn from reason and
conscience which, according to the philosophy of the complex
vision, must be included in the body of art, if art is to be the final
expression of human experience.

But after gathering together all we have accumulated among these
various paths leading to the edge of the mystery of art, what we
are compelled to recognize, when we confront the palpable thing
itself, is that, in each unique embodiment of it, it arrests and
entrances us, as with a sudden transformation of our entire
universe.

Out of the abysses of personality--human or super-human--every
new original work of art draws us, by an irresistible magnetism,
into itself, until we are compelled to become _what it is_, until we
are actually transformed into its inmost identity.

What hitherto has seemed to us mere refuse and litter and
dreariness and debris--all the shards and ashes and flints and
excrement of the margins of our universe--take upon themselves,
as they are thus caught up and transfigured, a new and ineffable
meaning.

The terrible, the ghastly, the atrocious, the abominable, the
apparently meaningless and dead, suddenly gather themselves
together and take on strange and monumental significance.

What has hitherto seemed to us floating jetsom and blind
wreckage, what has hitherto seemed to us mere brutal lumps of
primeval clay tossed to and fro by the giant hands of chaos, what
has hitherto seemed to us slabs of inhuman chemistry, suddenly
assumes under the pressure of this great power out of the abyss a
strange and lovely and terrible expressiveness.

Deep calls to Deep; and the mysterious oceans of Personality
move and stir in a terrific reciprocity.

The unfathomable gulfs of the eternal duality within us are roused
to undreamed-of response in answer to this abysmal stirring of the