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experience is my creed made perfect and complete： too complete； it
may be； for like many or all of those who have placed their heaven
in this earth； I have found in it not merely the beauty of heaven；
but the horror of hell also。 When I think about religion at all； I
feel as if I would like to found an order for those who CANNOT
believe： the Confraternity of the Faithless； one might call it；
where on an altar； on which no taper burned； a priest； in whose
heart peace had no dwelling； might celebrate with unblessed bread
and a chalice empty of wine。 Every thing to be true must become a
religion。 And agnosticism should have its ritual no less than
faith。 It has sown its martyrs； it should reap its saints； and
praise God daily for having hidden Himself from man。 But whether
it be faith or agnosticism； it must be nothing external to me。 Its
symbols must be of my own creating。 Only that is spiritual which
makes its own form。 If I may not find its secret within myself； I
shall never find it： if I have not got it already； it will never
come to me。
Reason does not help me。 It tells me that the laws under which I
am convicted are wrong and unjust laws； and the system under which
I have suffered a wrong and unjust system。 But； somehow； I have
got to make both of these things just and right to me。 And exactly
as in Art one is only concerned with what a particular thing is at
a particular moment to oneself； so it is also in the ethical
evolution of one's character。 I have got to make everything that
has happened to me good for me。 The plank bed； the loathsome food；
the hard ropes shredded into oakum till one's finger…tips grow dull
with pain； the menial offices with which each day begins and
finishes； the harsh orders that routine seems to necessitate； the
dreadful dress that makes sorrow grotesque to look at； the silence；
the solitude； the shame … each and all of these things I have to
transform into a spiritual experience。 There is not a single
degradation of the body which I must not try and make into a
spiritualising of the soul。
I want to get to the point when I shall be able to say quite
simply； and without affectation that the two great turning…points
in my life were when my father sent me to Oxford； and when society
sent me to prison。 I will not say that prison is the best thing
that could have happened to me： for that phrase would savour of
too great bitterness towards myself。 I would sooner say； or hear
it said of me； that I was so typical a child of my age； that in my
perversity； and for that perversity's sake； I turned the good
things of my life to evil； and the evil things of my life to good。
What is said； however； by myself or by others； matters little。 The
important thing； the thing that lies before me； the thing that I
have to do； if the brief remainder of my days is not to be maimed；
marred； and incomplete； is to absorb into my nature all that has
been done to me； to make it part of me； to accept it without
complaint； fear； or reluctance。 The supreme vice is shallowness。
Whatever is realised is right。
When first I was put into prison some people advised me to try and
forget who I was。 It was ruinous advice。 It is only by realising
what I am that I have found comfort of any kind。 Now I am advised
by others to try on my release to forget that I have ever been in a
prison at all。 I know that would be equally fatal。 It would mean
that I would always be haunted by an intolerable sense of disgrace；
and that those things that are meant for me as much as for anybody
else … the beauty of the sun and moon； the pageant of the seasons；
the music of daybreak and the silence of great nights； the rain
falling through the leaves； or the dew creeping over the grass and
making it silver … would all be tainted for me； and lose their
healing power； and their power of communicating joy。 To regret
one's own experiences is to arrest one's own development。 To deny
one's own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of one's own
life。 It is no less than a denial of the soul。
For just as the body absorbs things of all kinds； things common and
unclean no less than those that the priest or a vision has
cleansed； and converts them into swiftness or strength； into the
play of beautiful muscles and the moulding of fair flesh； into the
curves and colours of the hair； the lips； the eye； so the soul in
its turn has its nutritive functions also； and can transform into
noble moods of thought and passions of high import what in itself
is base； cruel and degrading； nay； more； may find in these its most
august modes of assertion； and can often reveal itself most
perfectly through what was intended to desecrate or destroy。
The fact of my having been the common prisoner of a common gaol I
must frankly accept； and； curious as it may seem； one of the things
I shall have to teach myself is not to be ashamed of it。 I must
accept it as a punishment； and if one is ashamed of having been
punished； one might just as well never have been punished at all。
Of course there are many things of which I was convicted that I had
not done； but then there are many things of which I was convicted
that I had done； and a still greater number of things in my life
for which I was never indicted at all。 And as the gods are
strange； and punish us for what is good and humane in us as much as
for what is evil and perverse； I must accept the fact that one is
punished for the good as well as for the evil that one does。 I
have no doubt that it is quite right one should be。 It helps one；
or should help one； to realise both； and not to be too conceited
about either。 And if I then am not ashamed of my punishment； as I
hope not to be； I shall be able to think； and walk； and live with
freedom。
Many men on their release carry their prison about with them into
the air； and hide it as a secret disgrace in their hearts； and at
length； like poor poisoned things； creep into some hole and die。
It is wretched that they should have to do so； and it is wrong；
terribly wrong； of society that it should force them to do so。
Society takes upon itself the right to inflict appalling punishment
on the individual； but it also has the supreme vice of shallowness；
and fails to realise what it has done。 When the man's punishment
is over； it leaves him to himself； that is to say； it abandons him
at the very moment when its highest duty towards him begins。 It is
really ashamed of its own actions； and shuns those whom it has
punished； as people shun a creditor whose debt they cannot pay； or
one on whom they have inflicted an irreparable； an irremediable
wrong。 I can claim on my side that if I realise what I have
suffered； society should realise what it has inflicted on me； and
that there should be no bitterness or hate on either side。
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