. . .ead it they would see in it but a mockery, for they have learned that the ideal is a manger, and they know that their masters would flog them if they lifted their eyes to God.

So le Trésor des Humbles, that book of liberation and love, makes me think bitterly of the unhappy condition of man today—and doubtless in all possible times,

Magnifique mais qui sans espoir se délivre
Pour n'avoir pas chanté la region où vivre
Quand du stérile hiver a resplendi l'ennui.

(Tr. 1)

And it will be in vain that

Tout son col secouera cette blanche agonie.

(Tr. 2)

the hour of deliverance will be past and only a few will have heard it sound.

Nevertheless, what means of hope in these pages where Maeterlinck, disciple of Ruysbroeck, Novalis, Emerson and Hello, only asking of these superior spirits (whose two lesser had intuitions of genius) the sign of the . . . Read More