And when the jaded soul revolts in supreme defiance, declaring its right to its own life, its own duties, its own friendships, and its own loves, there is much expressed disgust, much misfortune predicted, and, saddest of all, much wounded vanity.

The dominant egotism forbids that anything shall be better than itself.  No success is comparable to one’s own, no life so wisely ordered, and there is nothing so sad as the fame attained by those who do not follow our advice.

Adversity is commonly accepted as the test of friendship, but there is another more certain still—­success.  Anyone may bestow pity.  It is fatally easy to offer to those less fortunate than ourselves; whose capabilities have not proved adequate, as ours have; but it requires fine gifts of generous feeling to be genuinely glad at another’s good fortune, in which we cannot by any possibility hope to share.

[Sidenote:  Advice]

Advice is usually to be had for the asking.  In the case of a corporation attorney or a specialist, there is a high value placed upon it, but it is to be freely had from those who love us, and, strangely enough, from those who do not.

It is one of the blessings of love, that all the experience of another, all the battles of the other soul, are laid open for our better understanding of our own path.  But there is a subtle distinction between the counsel of love and that of vanity.  The one is unselfishly glad of our achievements, taking new delight in every step upward, while the other passes over triumphs in silence and carps upon the misfortune until it is not to be borne.

From the intimate union of two loving souls, Vanity is forever shut out.  Jealousy dare not show her malignant face.  These two are facing the world together, side by side and shoulder to shoulder, each the other’s strength and shield.

Success may come only after many failures; the tide may not turn till after long discouragement and great despair.  But in the union with that other soul, so gently baring its inmost dream that the other may understand, defeat loses its sting.

[Sidenote:  The Sanctuary of that Other Soul]

Ambition forever beckons, like a will o’ the wisp.  When realisation seems within easy reach, the dream fades, or another, seemingly unattainable, mockingly takes its place.  But in the sanctuary of that other soul, there is always new courage to be found.  Long aisles and quiet spaces lessen the fever and the unrest.  Darkness and cool shadows soothe the burning eyes, and in the clasp of those loving arms there is certain sleep.

Vanity cares for nothing which is not in some way its own, and it is perhaps an amorphous vanity, as carbon is akin to a diamond, that makes a hard-won victory doubly dear.

There are always sycophants to fawn and flatter, there are hands that will gladly help that they may claim their share of the result, but that realised dream is wholly sweet in which only the dreamer and the other soul have fully believed.  Failure, even, is more easily borne if it is entirely one’s own; if there is no one else to be blamed.