still make use in some way of its form of thought, and especially of its great wisdom of life, which for two thousand years has been proven to be particularly efficacious. The stumbling block is the _unhappy combination of religion and morality_. That must be overcome. There still remain traces of this strife in the soul, the lack of which in a human being is reluctantly felt. It is hard to say in what such things consist; for this, ideas as well as words are lacking. If, in spite of that, I attempt to say something about it, I do it parabolically, using Seneca’s words:[106] “Nothing can be more commendable and beneficial if you persevere in the pursuit of wisdom. It is what would be ridiculous to wish for when it is in your power to attain it. There is no need to lift up your hands to Heaven, or to pray the servant of the temple to admit you to the ear of the idol that your prayers may be heard the better. God is near thee; he is with thee. Yes, Lucilius, a holy spirit resides within us, the observer of good and evil, and our constant guardian. And as we treat him, he treats us; no good man is without a God. Could any one ever rise above the power of fortune without his assistance? It is he that inspires us with thoughts, upright, just and pure. We do not, indeed, pretend to say what God; but that a God dwells in the breast of every good man is certain.” CHAPTER IV THE SONG OF THE MOTH A little later Miss Miller travelled from Geneva to Paris. She says: “My weariness on the railway was so great that I could hardly sleep an hour. It was terrifically hot in the ladies’ carriage.” At four o’clock in the morning she noticed a moth that flew against the light in her compartment. She then tried to go to sleep again. Suddenly the following poem took possession of her mind. _The Moth to the Sun_ “I longed for thee when first I crawled to consciousness. My dreams were all of thee when in the chrysalis I lay. Oft myriads of my kind beat out their lives Against some feeble spark once caught from thee. And one hour more—and my poor life is gone; Yet my last effort, as my first desire, shall be But to approach thy glory; then, having gained One raptured glance, I’ll die content. For I, the source of beauty, warmth and life Have in his perfect splendor once beheld.”