If we have any destiny, we have found it in that direction. To speak of these things and to try to understand their nature and, having understood it, to try slowly and humbly and constantly to express, to press out again, from the gross earth or what it brings forth, from sound and shape and colour which are the prison gates of our soul, an image of the beauty we have come to understand--that is art. The coming of September did not trouble him this year for he was not to be sent back to Clongowes. I was much there that year--it was a beautiful one; and we had, in her off-hours, some strolls and talks in the garden-- talks in which she struck me as awfully clever and nice.
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