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9 test should be. There is practically no responsibility, one doesn't know just what it's all about because it is all special work, and even the sign-ups aren't familiar with it all. For example, the H2 seal. Certainly "holding P1" and similar jobs, don't enrich one's experience to any great extent. However, I do believe that all experience benefits us even though we may be oblivious to it at the time. It is bound to broaden us in some way or another. Schenectady, N.Y., January 7, 1926. My reaction after having done something unworthy is like a reva lation to me. Often I have noted it. One hour the world is a thrilling, glorious, warm place, a place of romance, a place for all and everything worth living for. Presto! The devil enters and the world is transformed to dullness, without hope, without glory, the sweet music mysteriously inaudible to my ears of a sudden. Where gone? I do not know. It simply seems that sweet music cannot exist where evil is. And gradually, as the evil is removed and my soul made right again, the strains of that mysterious symphony return, louder and more loud, enhancing all that is, sending the old, old thrill back through my being again. And so I have a passionate longing to banish forever the cause of my occasional deprivation. The song of this glorious life is too sweet in my ears for me to be willing to sacrifice one note of it. Oh, what marvel to achieve rectitude that lasts! Oh, what joy it must be to know that one is really living right, steering one's course properly, [[underlined]] able to steer it. [[/underlined]] In my case now, it seems to resolve itself into a matter of "control." I have the charts, I know where I want to go. I merely need the control to take myself there. Tonight I saw Bolton writing a letter, to whom, I don't know. I have seen him writing letters on several occasions, and they look long. He seems to say a lot; mayhap he unburdens his soul to someone. And so, I thought tonight how much I'd like to know what he says in those long letters, not out of hope for a sentimental thrill, but just to see what he is like. Perhaps he is much deeper than he appears to be. Who knows what he really thinks about it all? For instance, how many people would suspect me of being as I am, judging solely by external appearances and manners? Who would suspect me of caring for the deep things I do, or of thinking such things as I think sometimes? Sometimes I know I appear very coarse. I swear and talk loudly and act like a rowdy generally. And yet at heart, I'm not that way. And if I am thus, why not Bolton or anyone else? So look deep, old man, and judge not hastily hereafter. [[underlined]] NOTE: [[/underlined]] From this point on, diary and letter excerpts will be alternating in an irregular order. Also, shall continue copying the diary from the longhand.
