Even the inclination to undergo suffering and renunciation is somewhat dangerous, and the more so because it is often joined with a secret desire for praise, in which case one devil is but supplanted by another, perhaps still more powerful. A man should not throw away his life, not even by a lingering neglect of his powers; only, he should not overvalue his body’s well-being nor put it too much in the foreground. Christ himself is in this respect an inimitable example of a simple moderation which, at times, allowed itself to enjoy an almost luxurious homage, as in the case of the box of precious ointment, which evidently made Judas, the apostle of literal asceticism, to lose faith in him. Even the most advanced Christian should live quite like a natural man, not like a hermit or a pillar-saint, and should seek the worth and purpose of life neither in pleasure nor in suffering and renunciation, but only in the carrying out of the will and commission of God. A wise saying of Blumhardt’s, often quoted, declares that one must be twice converted, once from the natural to the spiritual life, and then back again from the spiritual to the natural so far as is justified; but that this is, perhaps, accomplished in some cases at a single stroke, without a preliminary exaggeration of the spiritual nature. Many linger too long in this double mutation, and during this period afford no very agreeable spectacle. Finally, one’s own power can never set the upward-striving man free from all those enemies of his real happiness which keep him, in a very genuine sense, from entering into true Christianity. The “old Adam” is still to-day, as at the time when the expression was first used, “too strong for the young Melanchthon,” and all good resolutions give as good as no help, so long as the man will not lay hold on the aid sent us by God himself to that end. But even he can not help unless the man completely surrenders his will. This is the man’s share in the work of his liberation from the fetters of the natural, selfish life; everything else is done to him. Dante, in particular, explains this very clearly in the twenty-first canto of the _Purgatorio_, where the joyous trembling of the mountain of purification, when a soul finally rises into its higher region, is portrayed in the following verses: “_It trembles when any spirit feels itself So purified that it may rise, or move For rising; and such loud acclaim ensues. Purification by the will alone Is proved, that, free to change society, Seizes the soul rejoicing in her will. Desire of bliss is present from the first; But strong propension hinders, to that wish By the just ordinance of heaven opposed-- Propension now as eager to fulfil The allotted torment as erewhile to sin. And I, who in this punishment had lain Five hundred years and more, but now have felt Free wish for happier clime._”