es the fact look crass and material,
threatening to degrade thy theory of spirit? Resist it not; it goes to
refine and raise thy theory of matter just as much.

There are no fixtures to men, if we appeal to consciousness. Every man
supposes himself not to be fully understood; and if there is any truth
in him, if he rests at last on the divine soul, I see not how it can
be otherwise. The last chamber, the last closet, he must feel was never
opened; there is always a residuum unknown, unanalyzable. That is, every
man believes that he has a greater possibility.

Our moods do not believe in each other. To-day I am full of thoughts and
can write what I please. I see no reason why I should not have the same
thought, the same power of expression, to-morrow. What I write, whilst I
write it, seems the most natural thing in the world; but yesterday I
saw a dreary vacuity in this direction in which now I see so much; and
a month hence, I doubt not, I shall wonder who he was that wrote so many
continuous pages. Alas for this infirm faith, this will not strenuous,
this vast ebb of a vast flow! I am God in nature; I am a weed by the
wall.

The continual effort to raise himself above himself, to work a pitch
above his last height, betrays itself in a man's relations. We thirst
for approbation, yet cannot forgive the approver. The sweet of nature
is love; yet, if I have a friend I am tormented by my imperfections. The
love of me accuses the other party. If he were high enough to slight me,
then could I love him, and rise by my affection to new heights. A man's
growth is seen in the successive choirs of his friends. For every friend
whom he loses for truth, he gains a better. I thought as I walked in the
woods and mused on my friends, why should I play with them this game
of idolatry? I know and see too well, when not voluntarily blind, the
speedy limits of persons called high and worthy. Rich, noble and great
they are by the liberality of our speech, but truth is sad. O blessed
Spirit, whom I forsake for these, they are not thou! Every personal
consideration that we allow costs us heavenly state. We sell the thrones
of angels for a short and turbulent pleasure.

How often must we learn this lesson? Men cease to interest us when we
find their limitations. The only sin is limitation. As soon as you
once come up with a man's limitations, it is all over with him. Has he
talents? has he enterprise? has he knowledge? It boots not. Infinit