soul scatter sorrow that malevolent destiny brings. It arises not
from exterior happiness; it arises not from satisfied self-love; for
the joy that self-love procures becomes less as the soul becomes
nobler, but the joy of pure love increases as nobility comes to the
soul. Nor is this joy born of pride; for to be able to smile at its
beauty is not enough to bring joy to the soul. The soul that has
sought in itself has the right to know of its beauty; but to brood
on this beauty too much, to become over-conscious thereof, were
perhaps to detract somewhat from the unconsciousness of its love.
The joy that I speak of takes not from love what it adds unto
consciousness; for in this joy, and in this joy alone, do
consciousness and love become one, feeding each on the other, each
gaining from that which it gives. The striving intellect may well
know happiness beyond the reach of the satisfied body; but the soul
that grows nobler has joys that are often denied to the striving
intellect. These two will often unite and labour together at
building the house within. But still it will happen at times that
both work apart, and widely different then are the structures each
will erect. And were this to be so, and the being I loved best of
all in the world came and asked me which he should choose--which
refuge I held to be most unattackable, sweetest, profoundest--I
would surely advise him to shelter his destiny in the refuge of the
soul that grows nobler.

38. Is the sage never to suffer? Shall no storm ever break on the
roof of his dwelling, no traps be laid to ensnare him? Shall wife
and friends never fail him? Must his father not die, and his mother,
his brothers, his sons--must all these not die like the rest? Shall
angels stand guard at each highway through which sorrow can pass
into man? Did not Christ Himself weep as He stood before Lazarus'