So it is in life. While a man clings to his outer self—aye, and even to any one of the forms he assumes when this “mortal coil” is cast aside—so long is he trying to blow aside a hurricane with the breath of his lungs. It is useless and idle such an endeavour; for the great winds of life must, sooner or later, sweep him away. But if he changes his attitude[attitude] in himself, if he acts on the faith that his body, his desires, his passions, his brain, are not himself, though he has charge of them, and is responsible for them; if he tries to deal with them as parts of nature, then he may hope to become one with the great tides of being, and reach the peaceful place of safe self-forgetfulness at last.
“Faust.”
“Fear is the slave of pain and Rebellion her captive; Endurance her free companion and Patience her master. And the husband of Pain is Rapture. But the souls are few in whom that marriage is consummated.”[consummated.”] (L. S. C.).
THE BLOSSOM AND THE FRUIT:
THE TRUE STORY OF A MAGICIAN.[[26]]
(Continued.)
By Mabel Collins,
Author of “The Prettiest Woman in Warsaw,” &c., &c.,