Diary Of A Dying Man – 3

En route, September 1st. Two fellows(french) with their legs rolled up under them, discussed with much animation today the mystery of the Trinity and Incarnation. It was infinitely amusing. “Comment? Il n’est pas possible – Les termes se contredisent,” &c.,&c. Imagine two ants discussing with their antennae the mind of Shakespeare. I wonder when will this very finite creature, called man, cease measuring himself with the Infinite. Is there not something in the cry of the heart which said: “Happy the sailor of the faith whom the storms of controversy have landed in the harbour of silence! Happy is he who is mute when men are discussing Thy generation, but ringing as a trumpet, they adore it. Happy they who know how difficult it is to understand, how sweet it is to praise Thee! Happy he who has not tasted the wisdom of the Greeks nor lost the simplicity of the apostles! Ah me! How far have I drifted under the rays of the Star of the Sea? Twelve months ago, what would have been my comment if anyone had quoted these things to me?