It has been a shrine that I have kept in the corner of my heart, and tended
there. I have never gone near it, except upon my knees. There were days
when I did not go near it at all, when I was weak, or distraught. But I
knew that every day I was closer to the task, that every day my heart was
more full of it. It was like wild music--it came to a climax that swept me
away in spite of myself.

To get the mastery of your soul, to hold it here, in your hands, at your
bidding, to consecrate your life to that, to watch and pray and toil for
that, to rouse yourself and goad yourself day and night for that; to
thrill with the memory of great consecrations, of heroic sufferings and
aspirations; to have the power of the stars in your heart, of nature, of
history and the soul of man; _that_ is your "practise."

* * * * *

April 17th.

It is true that my whole life has been a practise for the writing of
this book, that this book is the climax of my whole life. I have
toiled--learned--built up a mind--found a conviction; but I have never
written anything, or tried to write anything, to be published. I have said,
"Wait; it is not time." And now it _is_ time. If there is anything of
use in all that I have done, it is in this book.

Yes; and also it is a climax in another way. It is my goal and my
salvation.--Ah, how I have toiled for it!

* * * * *