I took my pen and the poem came quite spontaneously.
It seemed an answer to my prayer, but I hold fast the thought that the great Christ
asked no sign
from God and needed none, so deeply did he enter into life divine.
I also thought, regarding Christ
, that we must be content that a certain mystery should envelop these heroic figures of human history.
Our small measuring tape or rod is not for them.
If they were not exactly in fact what we take them to be, let us deeply reverence the human mind which has conceived and built up such splendid and immortal ideals.
Was not Christ
thinking of something like this when he made the sin against the Holy Ghost
and its manifestations the only unpardonable error?
He surely did not mean to say that it was beyond the repentance which is the earnest of forgiveness to every sin.”
A day or two after this she met at luncheon “a young Reverend Mr. Fitch
.... He is earnest and clear-minded, and should do much good.
I spoke of the cup [of life], but advised him to use the spoon for stirring up his congregation.”
She was asked for a “long and exhaustive paper on Marion Crawford
in about a week.
I wrote, saying that I could furnish an interesting paper on the elder and younger Crawford
, but without any literary estimate of Marion
's work, saying that family praise was too much akin to self-praise; also the time allotted much too short.”
One night she woke “suddenly and something seemed to say, ‘They are on the right tack now.’