The Garden of Survival

n merely; the emotion was permanent, the results enduring. Please believe the honest statement that, with the singing of that b

ing in to dress for dinner...." As it was, however, the emotion in me, answering the singing of the bird, became, as I said, measurably articulate. I give you simple facts, as though this were my monthly Report to the Foreign Office in days gone by. I spoke no word aloud, of course. It was

t elaborate and inspired kind, could have made this beauty, similarly articulate. And, for a moment I knew my former pain that I could not share this joy, this beauty, with others of my kind, that, except for myself, the loveliness s

utterance I have mentioned. There was no voice, least of all that inner voice you surely have a

go it ran, yet nearer at last to full disclosu

of love..." passed through m

ctant wonder that was happiness. And the happiness was justified. For the familiar sentence halted bef

n, that held the promise of ful

found a be

wind went past, there rose in me at once this answering recognition. I

was Marion lives on

me; somewhere in my body there were tears of w

ve that truth and wisdom entered softly with them. As I wrote above, I saw my own insignificance, yet, such was the splendour in me, I knew my right as well. It could be ever thus. My attitude alone prevented. I was not excluded, not cut off. Thi

ion which is love, and being love of purest kind, is surely wisdom too. The dead, indeed, do not return, yet

the change instantan

t strong and virile beauty which is England. Within call of my voice, still studying by lamplight now the symbols of her well-established strength, burning, moreover, with the steady faith which does not easily break across restraint, and loving the man as she had loved the little boy, sat

ing of greater wisdom, in a word, awoke in me. The thrill had worked its magic as of old, but this time in its slower English fashion, deep, and characteristically sure. To my country (that is, to my first experience of impersonal love) and to my mother (

ossible words, is

It was regenerative, moveover, in so far that life was enlarged and lifted upon a nobler scale; new sources of power were open to me; I saw a better way. Irresistibly it came to me again that beauty, far from being wasted, was purposive, that this purpose w

though the desire of the planet itse