But still the motive power of this life is not religious;
it is rather moral and philosophic. I see in it not so much a
magnificent model to imitate as a precious subject of study. This ideal
of a liberty, absolute, indefeasible, inviolable, respecting itself
above all, disdaining the visible and the universe, and developing
itself after its own laws alone, is also the ideal of Emerson, the stoic
of a young America. According to it, man finds his joy in himself, and,
safe in the inaccessible sanctuary, of his personal consciousness,
becomes almost a god. [Footnote: Compare Clough's lines:
"Where are the great, whom thou would'st wish to praise thee?
Where are the pure, whom thou would'st choose to love thee?
Where are the brave, to stand supreme above thee?
Whose high commands would cheer, whose chidings raise thee?
Seek, seeker, in thyself; submit to find
In the stones, bread, and life in the blank mind."]
He is himself principle, motive, and end of his own destiny; he is
himself, and that is enough for him. This superb triumph of life is not
far from being a sort of impiety, or at least a displacement of
adoration. By the mere fact that it does away with humility, such a
superhuman point of view becomes dangerous; it is the very temptation to
which the first man succumbed, that of becoming his own master by
becoming like unto the Elohim.
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