r I understand), because you are a student of Economics. At the
last I stop. What is this about economics and poesy? About your
emancipation from my riotously lyric sway? The hand of the forces by
which you have been moulded cannot detain you from going out upon the
love-quest. The fact of your preference for Draper cannot forestall your
spirit's need of love. There are many codes, but there is one law,
binding alike on the economist and poet. It springs out of the common
and unappeasable hunger, commanding that love seek love through night to
day and through day to night.

Yet it is possible to put oneself outside the pale of the law, to refuse
the gift of life and snap the tie between time and space and creature.
It is possible to be too emaciated for interest or feeling. The men and
women of the People know neither love nor art because they are too
weary. They lie in sleep prostrate from great fatigue. Their bodies are
too much tried with the hungers of the body and their spirits too dimly
illumined with the hope of fair chances. It is also possible to fill
oneself so full with an interest that all else is crowded out. You have
done this. Like the cobbler who is a cobbler typically, the teacher who
is a pedagogue, the physician and the lawyer who are pathologists
merely, you are a fanatic of a text. You are in the toils of an idea,
the idea of selection, as I well know, and you exploit it like a drudge.
When a man finds that he cannot deal in petroleum without smelling of
it, it is time that he turn to something else. Every man is engaged in
the cause of keeping himself whole, in watching himself lest his man
turn machine, in watching lest the outside world assail the inner.
Nature spares the type, but the individual must spare himself. He is
strong who is sensitive and who responds subtly to everything in his
environment, but his response must be characteristic; he must sustain
his personality and become more himself through the years. He alone is
vital in the social scheme who lets nothing in him atrophy and who
persists in being varied from all others in the scale of character to
the degree of variability that was his at the beginning.

I read in your letter nothing but a decision to stop short and give
over, as if you had strength for no more than your book and your
theory! You have become slave to a small point of inquiry, and you call
it the advance to a new time. "The crusade is on," you say. Coronation
rites