The Essentials of Spirituality | Page 2

his benevolence is of a
peculiar kind. It is characterized by a certain serene fervor which we
may almost call saintliness.
But perhaps some one may object that a standard by which
personalities like Savonarola, Washington, Howard and Peabody fall
short is probably set too high, and that in any case the erection of such
a standard cannot be very helpful to the common run of human beings.
Where these heroic natures fall short, can you and I hope to attain? To

such an objection the reply is that we cannot be too fastidious or
exacting in respect to our standard, however poor our performance may
be. Nothing less than a kind of divine completeness should ever content
us. Furthermore, there have been some men who approached nearer to
the spiritual ideal than the patriots and the philanthropists just
mentioned--some few men among the Greeks, the Hindus, and the
Hebrews. And for the guidance of conduct, these more excellent spirits
avail us more than the examples of a Savonarola, a Washington or a
Howard. To be a prophet or the lawgiver of a nation is not within your
province and mine. For such a task hardly one among millions has the
opportunity or the gifts. To be liberators of their country has been
accorded in all the ages thus far covered by human history to so small a
number of men that one might count them on the fingers of a single
hand. Even to be philanthropists on a large scale is the restricted
privilege of a very few. But to lead the spiritual life is possible to you
and me if we choose to do so. The best is within the reach of all, or it
would not be the best. Every one is permitted to share life's highest
good.
The spiritual life, then, may be described by its characteristic marks of
serenity, a certain inwardness, a measure of saintliness. By the latter we
are not to understand merely the aspiration after virtue or after a lofty
ideal, still pursued and still eluding, but to a certain extent the
embodiment of this ideal in the life--virtue become a normal experience
like the inhalation and exhalation of breath! Moreover, the
spiritually-minded seem always to be possessed of a great secret. This
air of interior knowledge, of the perception of that which is hidden
from the uninitiated, is a common mark of all refinement, aesthetic as
well as moral. In studying the face of Leonardo da Vinci's 'Mona Lisa,'
for instance, one will find that it is this interior insight that explains the
so-called "cryptic smile." In the case of aesthetic refinement, the secret
discloses itself as at bottom delicacy, the delicacy which prevents
intrusion on the personality of others; which abhors a prying curiosity;
which finds subtle ways of conveying esteem and delicate modes of
rendering service. But the secret of moral refinement is of a far higher
order, transcending aesthetic refinement by as much as goodness is
superior to mere charm. The secret in this case consists in the insight

vouchsafed to the spiritually-minded of the true end of human
existence.
Constituted as we are, there exist for us lower and higher ends. This
distinction is fundamental for ethics. Food is necessary; without it we
cannot live. But the getting of food--however necessary--is a lower end.
Knowledge is a necessary end, and a higher one. The practical moral
ends, such as the reformation of prisons, the improvement of the
dwellings of the poor, are yet higher ends. But above all these is the
highest end, that of moral completeness, of perfection, not in one
particular but in every particular. Spirituality consists in always
keeping in view this supreme end. The spiritually-minded person is one
who regards whatever he undertakes from the point of view of its
hindering or furthering his attainment of the supreme end. If a river had
a consciousness like the human consciousness, we might imagine that it
hears the murmur of the distant sea from the very moment when it
leaves its source, and that the murmur grows clearer and clearer as the
river flows on its way, welcoming every tributary it receives as adding
to the volume which it will contribute to the sea, rejoicing at every turn
and bend in its long course that brings it nearer to its goal. Such is the
consciousness of a spiritually-minded human being. Or to take a simile
from human experience. There are times when we go abroad to travel
just for change of scenery and the refreshment which change brings
with it. When we go in this mood we are likely to be intent on wayside
pleasures, and at every stage of the journey, at every town where we
halt, we shall suffer ourselves to be engrossed in the