At root of all
this is much pride, and counterfeit poetry, and falsehood. The soul
that is misunderstood is most often the one that has made the least
effort to gain some knowledge of self. The feeblest ideal, tke one
that is narrowest, straitest, most often will thrive on deception
and fear, on exaction and petty contempt. We dread above all lest
any should slight, or pass by unnoticed, the virtues and thoughts,
the spiritual beauty, that exist only in our imagination. It is with
merits of this nature as it is with our material welfare--hope
clings most persistently to that which we probably never shall have
the strength to acquire. The cheat through whose mind some momentary
thought of amendment has passed, is amazed that we offer not
instant, surpassing homage to the feeling of honour that has, for
brief space, found shelter within him. But if we are truly pure, and
sincere, and unselfish; if our thoughts soar aloft of themselves, in
all simpleness, high above vanity or instinctive selfishness, then
are we far less concerned than those who are near us should
understand, should approve, or admire. Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius,
Antoninus Pius are not known to have ever complained that men could
not understand them.
Pages:
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247