loveliness, — and know that these pictures are real and immortal, because having a divine basis, — they will find that nothing is lost, and all is won, by a right estimate of what is real.”
The other artist replies: “You wrong my experience. I have no mind-pictures except material ones. True, the canvas renders my pictures imperfect and destructible; yet I would not exchange mine for yours, for I made my own, and they are not shockingly transcendental.”
Dear reader, which mind-picture shall be real to you — the material or the spiritual? Both you cannot have. You are bringing out your own ideal. This ideal is either temporal or eternal. Either Spirit or matter is your model. If you try to have two models, then you practically have none. Like a pendulum in a clock, you will strike the ribs of matter, and be thrown back and forth, swinging forever between the real and the unreal.
Hear the wisdom of Job! —
| Shall mortal man be more just than God? |
| Shall man be more pure than his Maker? |
| Behold He putteth no trust in His ministering spirits, |
| And His angels He chargeth with frailty. |
| What then are they who dwell in houses of clay, |
| Whose foundation is in the dust, |
| Who crumble to pieces as if moth-eaten? |
| Between morning and evening they are destroyed; |
| They perish forever, and none regardeth it. |
| The excellency that is in them is torn away; |
| They die before they have become wise. |
To show my critic that such theories as mine do not seem absurd to some of the wisest men of modern times,
26
