the silence--the same undlssolvable
matter that lurks in the cup of the noblest external existence? and
seeing that nothing is truly our own till it faithfully follow us into
the darkness and silence, why should the thing that has sprung to life
there be less faithful in silence and darkness? But we will pursue this
no farther, for it leads to a wisdom of over-much theory. For all that
a brilliant exterior destiny is not indispensable, still should we
always regard it as wholly desirable, and pursue it as keenly as though
we valued it highly. It behoves the sage to knock at the door of every
temple of glory, of every dwelling where happiness, love, and activity
are to be found. And if his strenuous effort and long expectation
remain unrewarded, if no door fly open, still may he find, perhaps, in
the mere expectation and effort an equivalent for all the emotions and
light that he sought. "To act," says Barres, "is to annex to our
thoughts vaster fields of experience." It is also, perhaps, to think
more quickly than thought, as more completely; for we no longer think
with the brain alone, but with every atom of life. It is to wrap round
with dream the profoundest sources of thought, and then to confront
them with fact. But to act is not always to conquer. To attempt, to be
patient, and wait--these, too, may be action; as also, to hear, to
watch, and be silent.

If the lot of the woman we speak of had been cast in Athens, or
Florence, or Rome, there had been, in her life, certain motives of
grandeur, occasions for beauty and happiness, that she may well never
meet with to-day. And she is the poorer for lacking the efforts she
might have put forth, the memory of what might have been done; for in
these lies a force that is precious and vital, that often indeed will
transform many more things within us, than a thought which is morally,
mentally worth many thousand such efforts and memories. And indeed it
is therefore alone that we should desire a brilliant, feverish destiny;
because it summons to life certain forces and feelings that would
otherwise never emerge from the slumberous peace of an over-tranquil
existence. But from the moment we know, or even suspect, that these
feelings lie dormant within us, we are already giving life to all that
is best in those feelings; and it is as though we were, for one brief
moment, looking down upon a glorious external destiny from heights such
destiny shall only attain at the end of it