Transcriber's note: Contents generated for HTML.
DEDICATORY LETTER
PART I
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
PART II
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
PART III
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
My dear Jack Kirkby,
To whom can I dedicate this book but to you who were, not only the bestfriend of the man I have written about, but one without whom the bookcould not have been written? It is to you that I owe practically all thematerials necessary for the work: it was to you that Frank left thegreater part of his diary, such as it was (and I hope I have observedyour instructions properly as regards the use I have made of it); it wasyou who took such trouble to identify the places he passed through; andit was you, above all, who gave me so keen an impression of Frankhimself, that it seems to me I must myself have somehow known himintimately, in spite of the fact that we never met.
I think I should say that it is this sense of intimacy, thisextraordinary interior accessibility (so to speak) of Frank, that madehim (as you and I both think) about the most lovable person we have everknown. They were very extraordinary changes that passed over him, ofcourse—(and I suppose we cannot improve, even with all our modernpsychology, upon the old mystical names for such changes—Purgation,Illumination and Union)—but, as theologians themselves tell us, thatmysterious thing which Catholics call the Grace of God does notobliterate, but rather emphasizes and transfigures the naturalcharacteristics of every man upon whom it comes with power. It was thesame element in Frank, as it seems to me—the same root-principle, atleast—that made him do those preposterous things connected with breadand butter and a railway train, that drove him from Cambridge indefiance of all common-sense and sweet reasonableness; that held himstill