Wisdom and Destiny | Page 8

though this
injustice had ended, else should we never emerge from our circle.
It is imperative that there should be some who dare speak, and think,
and act as though all men were happy; for otherwise, when the day
comes for destiny to throw open to all the people's garden of the
promised land, what happiness shall the others find there, what justice,
what beauty or love? It may be urged, it is true, that it were best, first of
all, to consider the most pressing needs, yet is this not always wisest; it
is often of better avail from the start to seek that which is highest.

When the waters beleaguer the home of the peasant in Holland, the sea
or the neighbouring river having swept down the dyke that protected
the country, most pressing is it then for the peasant to safeguard his
cattle, his grain, his effects; but wisest to fly to the top of the dyke,
summoning those who live with him, and from thence meet the flood,
and do battle. Humanity up to this day has been like an invalid tossing
and turning on his couch in search of repose; but therefore none the less
have words of true consolation come only from those who spoke as
though man were freed from all pain. For, as man was created for
health, so was mankind created for happiness; and to speak of its
misery only, though that misery be everywhere and seem everlasting, is
only to say words that fall lightly and soon are forgotten. Why not
speak as though mankind were always on the eve of great certitude, of
great joy? Thither, in truth, is man led by his instinct, though he never
may live to behold the long-wished-for to-morrow. It is well to believe
that there needs but a little more thought, a little more courage, more
love, more devotion to life, a little more eagerness, one day to fling
open wide the portals of joy and of truth. And this thing may still come
to pass. Let us hope that one day all mankind will be happy and wise;
and though this day never should dawn, to have hoped for it cannot be
wrong. And in any event, it is helpful to speak of happiness to those
who are sad, that thus at least they may learn what it is that happiness
means. They are ever inclined to regard it as something beyond them,
extraordinary, out of their reach. But if all who may count themselves
happy were to tell, very simply, what it was that brought happiness to
them, the others would see that between sorrow and joy the difference
is but as between a gladsome, enlightened acceptance of life and a
hostile, gloomy submission; between a large and harmonious
conception of life, and one that is stubborn and narrow. "Is that all?"
the unhappy would cry. "But we too have within us, then, the elements
of this happiness." Surely you have them within you! There lives not a
man but has them, those only excepted upon whom great physical
calamity has fallen. But speak not lightly of this happiness. There is no
other. He is the happiest man who best understands his happiness; for
he is of all men most fully aware that it is only the lofty idea, the
untiring, courageous, human idea, that separates gladness from sorrow.
Of this idea it is helpful to speak, and as often as may be; not with the

view of imposing our own idea upon others, but in order that they who
may listen shall, little by little, conceive the desire to possess an idea of
their own. For in no two men is it the same. The one that you cherish
may well bring no comfort to me; nor shall all your eloquence touch
the hidden springs of my life. Needs must I acquire my own, in myself,
by myself; but you unconsciously make this the easier for me, by
telling of the idea that is yours. It may happen that I shall find solace in
that which brings sorrow to you, and that which to you speaks of
gladness may be fraught with affliction for me. But no matter; into my
grief will enter all that you saw of beauty and comfort, and into my joy
there will pass all that was great in your sadness, if indeed my joy be on
the same plane as your sadness. It behoves us, the first thing of all, to
prepare in our soul a place of some loftiness, where this idea may be
lodged; as the priests of ancient religions laid the mountain peak bare,
and cleared it of thorn and of root for the fire to descend from heaven.
There may come to us