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Where No Fear Was by Arthur Christopher Benson
page 12 of 151 (07%)
particular impulses and preferences, who just live out of mere
impetus and habit, who plod along, doing in a dispirited way just
what they find to do, and lapsing into indolence and indifference
the moment that prescribed work ceases, those are the spirits that
afford the real problem, because they despise activity, and think
energy a mere exhibition of fussy diffuseness.

But the generous, eager, wilful nature, who has always some aim in
sight, who makes mistakes perhaps, gives offence, collides high-
heartedly with others, makes both friends and enemies, loves and
hates, is anxious, jealous, self-absorbed, resentful, intolerant--
there is always hope for such an one, for he is quick to despair,
capable of shame, swift to repent, and even when he is worsted and
wounded, rises to fight again. Such a nature, through pain and
love, can learn to chasten his base desires, and to choose the
nobler and worthier way.

But what does really differentiate men and women is not their power
of fearing and suffering, but their power of caring and admiring.
The only real and vital force in the world is the force which
attracts, the beauty which is so desirable that one must imitate it
if one can, the wisdom which is so calm and serene that one must
possess it if one may.

And thus all depends upon our discerning in the world a loving
intention of some kind, which holds us in view, and draws us to
itself. If we merely think of God and nature as an inflexible
system of laws, and that our only chance of happiness is to slip in
and out of them, as a man might pick his way among red-hot
ploughshares, thankful if he can escape burning, then we can make
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