But pragmatism sees another way to be respected also, the pluralistic way of interpreting the poem.  The you so glorified, to which the hymn is sung, may mean your better possibilities phenomenally taken, or the specific redemptive effects even of your failures, upon yourself or others.  It may mean your loyalty to the possibilities of others whom you admire and love so, that you are willing to accept your own poor life, for it is that glory’s partner.  You can at least appreciate, applaud, furnish the audience, of so brave a total world.  Forget the low in yourself, then, think only of the high.  Identify your life therewith; then, through angers, losses, ignorance, ennui, whatever you thus make yourself, whatever you thus most deeply are, picks its way.

In either way of taking the poem, it encourages fidelity to ourselves.  Both ways satisfy; both sanctify the human flux.  Both paint the portrait of the you on a gold-background.  But the background of the first way is the static One, while in the second way it means possibles in the plural, genuine possibles, and it has all the restlessness of that conception.

Noble enough is either way of reading the poem; but plainly the pluralistic way agrees with the pragmatic temper best, for it immediately suggests an infinitely larger number of the details of future experience to our mind.  It sets definite activities in us at work.  Altho this second way seems prosaic and earthborn in comparison with the first way, yet no one can accuse it of tough-mindedness in any brutal sense of the term.  Yet if, as pragmatists, you should positively set up the second way against the first way, you would very likely be misunderstood.  You would be accused of denying nobler conceptions, and of being an ally of tough-mindedness in the worst sense.

You remember the letter from a member of this audience from which I read some extracts at our previous meeting.  Let me read you an additional extract now.  It shows a vagueness in realizing the alternatives before us which I think is very widespread.

“I believe,” writes my friend and correspondent, “in pluralism; I believe that in our search for truth we leap from one floating cake of ice to another, on an infinite sea, and that by each of our acts we make new truths possible and old ones impossible; I believe that each man is responsible for making the universe better, and that if he does not do this it will be in so far left undone.

“Yet at the same time I am willing to endure that my children should be incurably sick and suffering (as they are not) and I myself stupid and yet with brains enough to see my stupidity, only on one condition, namely, that through the construction, in imagination and by reasoning, of a rational unity of all things, I can conceive my acts and my thoughts and my troubles as supplemented:  By all the other phenomena of the world, and as forming—­when thus supplemented—­A scheme which I approve and adopt as my I own; and for my part I refuse to be persuaded that we cannot look beyond the obvious pluralism of the naturalist and pragmatist to a logical unity in which they take no interest or stock.”