arches the earth. This Reality is all-penetrating and has
transfigured each aspect of the self's old world. It now has a new and
most exacting scale of values, which demand from it a new series of
adjustments; ask it--and with authority--to change its life.

What next? The next thing, probably, is that the self finds itself in
rather a tight place. It is wedged into a physical order that makes
innumerable calls on it, and innumerable suggestions to it: which has
for years monopolized its field of consciousness and set up habits of
response to its claims. It has to make some kind of a break with this
order, or at least with its many attachments thereto; and stretch to the
wider span demanded by the new and larger world. And further, it is in
possession of a complex psychic life, containing many insubordinate
elements, many awkward bequests from a primitive past. That psychic life
has just received the powerful and direct suggestion of the Spirit; and
for the moment, it is subdued to that suggestion. But soon it begins to
experience the inevitable conflict between old habits, and new
demands--between a life lived in the particular and in the universal
spirit--and only through complete resolution of that conflict will it
develop its full power. So the self quickly realizes that the
theologian's war between Nature and Grace is a picturesque way of
stating a real situation; and further that the demand of all religions
for a change of heart--that is, of the deep instinctive nature--is the
first condition of a spiritual life. And hence, that its hands are
fairly full. It is true that an immense joy and hope come with it to
this business of tackling imperfection, of adjusting itself to the newly
found centre of life. It knows that it is committed to the forward
movement of a Power, which may be slow but which nothing can gainsay.
Nevertheless the first thing that power demands from it is courage; and
the next an unremitting vigorous effort. It will never again be able to
sink back cosily into its racial past. Consciousness of disharmony and
incompleteness now brings the obligation to mend the disharmony and
achieve a fresh synthesis.

This is felt with a special sharpness in the moral life, where the
irreconcilable demands of natural self-interest and of Spirit assume
their most intractable shape. Old habits and paths of discharge which
have almost become automatic must now, it seems, be abandoned. New
paths, in spite of resis