stered by Nature will control and
renovate mankind. It is easy to recognize the habit of conviction,
freedom from within, and personal motive, the man bending himself as for
life or death to show exactly what he sees. The inspired man we know who
appeals to a divine necessity, and says, "I can do no otherwise; God be
my help! amen!"--for whom praise and property and comfortable
continuance on this planet are trifles, so great an object has opened to
him in the inviolable moral law.

Every perception takes hold at last on duty as well as desire, claims
and carries away the man entire, though it were to danger or death. The
system, grown friendly, has grown sacred also; departure from it is
shame and guilt, as well as loss. An artist, therefore, like the Greek,
is busy with portraits of the gods, and every celebration of Beauty is
another Missa Solemnis, Te Deum, and Gloria.

Whatever object becomes transparent to a man will be his medium of
communication with the Maker and with mankind. He hurries to show
therein what he has seen, as children run for their companions and point
their discoveries. These are his unsolicited angels, higher above his
reach than above that of the crowd; for every good thought is more a
surprise to the thinker than to any other. The seer points always from
himself as a telescope to the sky; he is no creator, but a bit of broken
glass in the sun. What is any man in the presence of haunting
Perfection, never to be shown without mutilation and dishonor? Is it
ours? In Him we live and move.

While the Ego is pronounced and fills consciousness, man seems to be and
do somewhat of himself; but when the universal Soul is manifest above
will, his eyes turn away from that old battery; he is absorbed in what
he sees,--forgets himself, his deeds, wants, gains. He is rapt; stands
like Socrates a day and a night in contemplation; sits like Newton for
twelve hours half dressed on the edge of his bed, arrested in rising. He
is that madman to the world who neglects his meat, postpones his private
enterprise, regards honor and comfort as so much interruption to this
commerce with reality. We are all tired of property which is exclusion,
of goods which must be taken from another to serve me. Good should grow
with sharing,--more for me when all is given. In the spirit there are no
fences, boxes, or bags.

Presenting truth, I declare it as freely yours as mine. Every act of
genius proclaims that the highest gif