under heaven but as a purpose in itself; or, in a weak despair, pluck out the eye that I have not yet learned to guide and enjoy with wisdom.  The soul demands unity of purpose, not the dismemberment of man; it seeks to roll up all his strength and sweetness, all his passion and wisdom, into one, and make of him a perfect man exulting in perfection.  To conclude ascetically is to give up, and not to solve, the problem.  The ascetic and the creeping hog, although they are at different poles, have equally failed in life.  The one has sacrificed his crew; the other brings back his seamen in a cock-boat, and has lost the ship.  I believe there are not many sea-captains who would plume themselves on either result as a success.

But if it is righteousness thus to fuse together our divisive impulses and march with one mind through life, there is plainly one thing more unrighteous than all others, and one declension which is irretrievable and draws on the rest.  And this is to lose consciousness of oneself.  In the best of times, it is but by flashes, when our whole nature is clear, strong and conscious, and events conspire to leave us free, that we enjoy communion with our soul.  At the worst, we are so fallen and passive that we may say shortly we have none.  An arctic torpor seizes upon men.  Although built of nerves, and set adrift in a stimulating world, they develop a tendency to go bodily to sleep; consciousness becomes engrossed among the reflex and mechanical parts of life; and soon loses both the will and power to look higher considerations in the face.  This is ruin; this is the last failure in life; this is temporal damnation, damnation on the spot and without the form of judgment.  ’What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose himself?’

It is to keep a man awake, to keep him alive to his own soul and its fixed design of righteousness, that the better part of moral and religious education is directed; not only that of words and doctors, but the sharp ferule of calamity under which we are all God’s scholars till we die.  If, as teachers, we are to say anything to the purpose, we must say what will remind the pupil of his soul; we must speak that soul’s dialect; we must talk of life and conduct as his soul would have him think of them.  If, from some conformity between us and the pupil, or perhaps among all men, we do in truth speak in such a dialect and express such views, beyond question we shall touch in him a spring; beyond question he will recognise the dialect as one that he himself has spoken in his better hours; beyond question he will cry, ’I had forgotten, but now I remember; I too have eyes, and I had forgot to use them!  I too have a soul of my own, arrogantly upright, and to that I will listen and conform.’  In short, say to him anything that he has once thought, or been upon the point of thinking, or show him any view of life that he has once clearly seen, or been upon the point of clearly seeing; and you have done your part and may leave him to complete the education for himself.