sm, and talk of the reign
of reason. It is no more a state to justify pride
than that of the Eastern sybarite who will not
even lift his food to his mouth; he is "reasonable"
also in that he sees no value in activity,
and therefore does not exercise it. So with the
sceptic; decay follows the condition of inaction,
whether it be mental, psychic, or physical.

III

And now let us consider how the initial
difficulty of fastening the interest on that
which is unseen is to be overcome. Our gross
senses refer only to that which is objective in
the ordinary sense of the word; but just beyond
this field of life there are finer sensations
which appeal to finer senses. Here we find
the first clew to the stepping-stones we need.
Man looks from this point of view like a point
where many rays or lines centre; and if he
has the courage or the interest to detach himself
from the simplest form of life, the point, and
explore but a little way along these lines or
rays, his whole being at once inevitably widens
and expands, the man begins to grow in greatness.
But it is evident, if we accept this illustration
as a fairly true one, that the chief
point of importance is to explore no more
persistently on one line than another: else the
result must be a deformity. We all know how
powerful is the majesty and personal dignity
of a forest tree which has had air enough to
breathe, and room for its widening roots, and
inner vitality with which to accomplish its
unceasing task. It obeys the perfect natural
law of growth, and the peculiar awe it inspires
arises from this fact.

How is it possible to obtain recognition of
the inner man, to observe its growth and
foster it?

Let us try to follow a little way the clew
we have obtained, though words will probably
soon be useless.

We must each travel alone and without
aids, as the traveller has to climb alone when
he nears the summit of the mountain. No beast
of burden can help him there; neither can the
gross senses or anything that touches the gross
senses help him here. But for a little distance
words may go with us.

The tongue recognises the value of sweetness
or piquancy in food. To the man whose
senses are of the simplest order there is no
other idea of sweetness than this. But a finer
essence, a more highly placed sensation of the
same order, is reached by another perception.
The sweetness on the face of a lovely woman,
or in the smile of a friend, is recognise