We feel defrauded of the retribution due to evil acts, because the
criminal adheres to his vice and contumacy and does not come to a
crisis or judgment anywhere in visible nature. There is no stunning
confutation of his nonsense before men and angels. Has he therefore
outwitted the law? Inasmuch as he carries the malignity and the lie
with him he so far deceases from nature. In some manner there will be a
demonstration of the wrong to the understanding also; but, should we
not see it, this deadly deduction makes square the eternal account.
Neither can it be said, on the other hand, that the gain of rectitude
must be bought by any loss. There is no penalty to virtue; no penalty
to wisdom; they are proper additions of being. In a virtuous action I
properly _am;_ in a virtuous act I add to the world; I plant into
deserts conquered from Chaos and Nothing and see the darkness receding
on the limits of the horizon. There can be no excess to love, none to
knowledge, none to beauty, when these attributes are considered in the
purest sense. The soul refuses limits, and always affirms an Optimism,
never a Pessimism.
His life is a progress, and not a station. His instinct is trust. Our
instinct uses “more” and “less” in application to man, of the _presence
of the soul_, and not of its absence, the brave man is greater than the
coward; the true, the benevolent, the wise, is more a man and not less,
than the fool and knave. There is no tax on the good of virtue, for
that is the incoming of God himself, or absolute existence, without any
comparative. Material good has its tax, and if it came without desert
or sweat, has no root in me, and the next wind will blow it away. But
all the good of nature is the soul’s, and may be had if paid for in
nature’s lawful coin, that is, by labor which the heart and the head
allow. I no longer wish to meet a good I do not earn, for example to
find a pot of buried gold, knowing that it brings with it new burdens.
I do not wish more external goods,—neither possessions, nor honors, nor
powers, nor persons. The gain is apparent; the tax is certain. But
there is no tax on the knowledge that the compensation exists and that
it is not desirable to dig up treasure. Herein I rejoice with a serene
eternal peace. I contract the boundaries of possible mischief. I learn
the wisdom of St. Bernard,—“Nothing can work me damage except myself;
the harm that I sustain I carry about with me, and never am a real
sufferer but by my own fault.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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