religion as "what a man does with his solitude". And in there, in beyond Nature, we shall eat of the tree of life. In that way the second, unwritten system is bound to grow. And in all these cases, let us admit that the cynics and sceptics have a good prima facie case. A different version of Transposition, written expressly for that purpose and then translated into Italian, has appeared in the Rivista of Milan. How then does this more glorious, more solid world relate to ours in the present?: In a word, I think that real landscapes enter into pictures, not that pictures will one day sprout out into real trees and grass (p. To be a real ingredient in the divine happiness. When the joy thus flows over into the nerves that overflow is its consummation: when the anguish thus flows over that physical symptom is the crowning horror. Augustine said, the rapture of the saved soul will "flow over" into the glorified body. There comes a time (and it need not always be a long one) when a composition belongs so definitely to the past that the author himself cannot alter it much without the feeling that he is producing a kind of forgery.
Human culture has always had to exist under the shadow of something infinitely more important than itself. A thing may be morally neutral and yet the desire for that thing may be dangerous. Those who have attained everlasting life in the vision of God doubtless know very well that it is no mere bribe, but the very consummation of their earthly discipleship; but we who have not yet attained it cannot know this in the same way, and. This is Pelagian, or worse, and it defeats even itself. You will be one of the sound craftsmen, and other sound craftsmen will know. As with the lines, so with the shading. Neither conversion nor enlistment in the army is really going to obliterate our human life. In one sense, how miserably inadequate! That is why the worldlings are so monotonously alike compared with the almost fantastic variety of the saints. Apparently, then, our lifelong nostalgia, our longing to be reunited with something in the universe from which we now feel cut off, to be on the inside of some door which we have always seen from the outside, is no mere neurotic fancy, but the.