Looking back now at
the work done by my father, and by Rowley at Chatsea, I'm beginning
to understand how dangerous it is for one man to make himself the
pivot of an enterprise. I only really know about my father's work
at second hand, but look at Chatsea. I hear now that already the
work is falling to pieces. Although that may not justify the Bishop
of Silchester, I'm beginning to see that he might argue that if
Rowley had shown himself sufficiently humble to obey the forces of
law and order in the Church, he would have had accumulated for him
a fresh store of energy from which he might have drawn to
consolidate his influence upon the people with whom he worked.
Anyway, that's what I'm going to try to acquire from the
pseudo-monasticism of Malford. I'm determined to dry up the
critical and humorous side of myself. Half of it is nothing more
than arrogance. I'm grateful for being sent to Aldershot, but I'm
going to make my work here depend on the central source of energy
and power. I'm going to say that my work is per hominem, but that
the success of my work is ex Deo. You may tell me that any man with
the least conception of Christian Grace would know that.
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