pure music, to wash their spirits clean from those foul elements into
which their duty had thrust them down perforce?

And then, oh then, has there not come to such an one--I know that it has
come--that for which his spirit was athirst, the very breath of pure air,
the very gleam of pure light, the very strain of pure music, for it is
the very music of the spheres, in those same words, "Holy, holy, holy,
Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come;" and he has
answered, with a flush of keenest joy, Yes. Whatever else is unholy,
there is an Holy One, spotless and undefiled, serene and self-contained.
Whatever else I cannot trust, there is One whom I can trust utterly.
Whatever else I am dissatisfied with, there is One whom I can contemplate
with utter satisfaction, and bathe my stained soul in that eternal fount
of purity. And who is He? Who save the Cause and Maker, and Ruler of
all things, past, present, and to come? Ah, Gospel of all gospels, that
God Himself, the Almighty God, is the eternal and unchangeable
realisation of all that I and all mankind, in our purest and our noblest
moments, have ever dreamed concerning the true, the beautiful, and the
good. Even though He slay me, the unholy, yet will I trust in Him. For
He is Holy, Holy, Holy, and can do nothing to me, or any creature, save
what He OUGHT. For He has created all things, and for His pleasure they
are and were created.

Whosoever has entered, though but for a moment, however faintly,
partially, stupidly, into that thought of thoughts, has entered in so far
into the communion of the elect; and has had his share in the everlasting
All Saints' Day which is in heaven. He has been, though but for a
moment, in harmony with the polity of the Living God, the heavenly
Jerusalem; and with an innumerable company of angels, and the church of
the first-born who are written in heaven; and with the spirits of just