The most beautiful poem there is, is
life—life which discerns its own story in the making, in which
inspiration
and self−consciousness go together and help each
other, life which knows itself to be the world in little, a
repetition in miniature of the divine universal poem. Yes, be man;
that is to say, be nature, be spirit, be the
image of God, be what
is greatest, most beautiful, most lofty in all the spheres of being,
be infinite will and
idea, a reproduction of the great whole. And be
everything while being nothing, effacing thyself, letting God
enter
into thee as the air enters an empty space, reducing the ego to the
mere vessel which contains the divine
essence. Be humble, devout,
silent, that so thou mayest hear within the depths of thyself the
subtle and
profound voice; be spiritual and pure, that so thou
mayest have communion with the pure spirit. Withdraw
thyself often
into the sanctuary of thy inmost consciousness; become once more
point and atom, that so thou
mayest free thyself from space, time,
matter, temptation, dispersion, that thou mayest escape thy very
organs
themselves and thine own life. That is to say, die often, and
examine thyself in the presence of this death, as a
preparation for
the last death. He who can without shuddering confront blindness,
deafness, paralysis, disease,
betrayal, poverty; he who can without
terror appear before the sovereign justice, he alone can call
himself
prepared for partial or total death. How far am I from
anything of the sort, how far is my heart from any such
stoicism!
But at least we can try to detach ourselves from all that can be
taken away from us, to accept
everything as a loan and a gift, and
to cling only to the imperishable—this at any rate we can attempt.
To
believe in a good and fatherly God, who educates us, who tempers
the wind to the shorn lamb, who punishes
only when he must, and
takes away only with regret; this thought, or rather this conviction,
gives courage and
security. Oh, what need we have of love, of
tenderness, of affection, of kindness, and how vulnerable we are,
we
the sons of God, we, immortal and sovereign beings! Strong as the
universe or feeble as the worm,
according as we represent God or
only ourselves, as we lean upon infinite being, or as we stand
alone.
The point of view of religion, of a
religion at once active and moral, spiritual and profound, alone
gives to life
all the dignity and all the energy of which it is
capable. Religion makes invulnerable and invincible. Earth can
only
be conquered in the name of heaven. All good things are given over
and above to him who desires but
righteousness. To be disinterested
is to be strong, and the world is at the feet of him whom it cannot
tempt.
Why? Because spirit is lord of matter, and the world belongs
to God. “Be of good cheer,” saith a heavenly
voice, “I have
overcome the world.”
Lord, lend thy strength to those who
are weak in the flesh, but willing in the spirit!
Amiel's Journal
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