has a hard time of it. The morally great in all ages have become strong
by overcoming their fleshly natures. They have risen on their dead
selves to higher things. The vision of God has reached them even in
their prison-houses; and it has broken their chains and they have begun
to move toward Him. To the end of the chapter they have had a long
fight, and not seldom have been sadly worsted. Goethe and Augustine,
Pascal and Coleridge, DeQuincey and Webster--how the list of those who
have had to fight bitter battles for spiritual liberty might be extended
I and many have not been victorious before the shadows have lengthened
and the day closed. Should they be blamed or pitied? Pitied, surely, and
for the rest let us leave them to Him who knoweth all things. "Vengeance
is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord." Men have nothing to do with
judgment; the final word concerning any soul will be spoken only by Him
whose vision is perfect. "Steep and craggy is the pathway of the gods,"
and steep and craggy is the path by which men rise to spiritual heights.

He who is sensitive to life can hardly survey this universal human
struggle with undimmed eye or with unquestioning faith. The young are
driven here and there by heartless and, sometimes, almost furious
passions; some are weak and fall because they are blind, and others
because they love and trust; and many who desire to do good mistake and
choose evil. The strong often try to run away from themselves but can
find no solitude in which to hide; and all the time right and truth
shine in the darkness like stars. What shall we say of these confusing
conditions? To ignore them is foolish; to insist that the struggle is
but a delusion is nonsense. The only sane course is to face facts and
adjust our theories to them.

The battle between duty and inclination, between the ideal and the
actual, will continue as long as life in the body endures. It is not an