ything has its place and meaning. Man discerns in his
personal life this much of clear meaning, that he is to strive toward
the noblest ideal. As he accepts that, the conviction comes home to
him that in the highest sense the universe is friendly, for it is
attracting, urging, compelling him to the realization of his highest
dreams.
The highest intellect is always serene. Shakspere and Emerson stand at
the summit of human thought and vision; unlike as they are, both view
the spectacle of life with an intense interest, and a great though
sober cheer. If we analyze the elements which Shakspere portrays, we
might incline to judge that the sadness outweighs the joy. But the
impression left by his pages is somehow not sad. Some deeper spirit
underlies and penetrates. Back of Lear's heartbreak, Hamlet's
bewilderment, Othello's despair, we feel some presence which upholds
our courage. It is the mind of the writer, so lofty and wise that it
is not daunted by all the terrors it beholds, and which conveys to us
its own calm.
In a like mood, we may often look for ourselves on the drama of real
life, profoundly stirred by its comedies and tragedies, but not
overwhelmed,--least overwhelmed when our sight is clearest.
The sense of assurance--not of mere safety from special harm, but the
uplift of some unspeakable divine reality--comes in presence of the
grandest scenes of nature,--mountain or ocean or sunset. They supply
an external image, answering to some faculty in the soul. And when
through failure of sense or spirit the vision is obscured, the soul
becomes conscious in itself of that to which mountain and ocean are but
servants,--the reserve power to endure and to conquer which springs to
life at the stern challenge.
The deepest assurance comes not as an intellectual view nor as an
impression from the sublimities of nature. It is the outcome of the
severest conflicts and the heaviest trials. We cannot explain the
process, but we see in others or feel in ourselves this: that out of
the hardest struggle in which we have held our ground comes the deepest
peace. What serenity is to the intellectual life, that to the moral
life is this "peace which passeth understanding," this blending of
gladness and love. It is not a passive condition, but of the highest
potential energy,--the parent of all great achievements and patient
fidelities.
The soul learns to draw courage, trust, joy, and hope from its resolu
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