These things, and whatever else constitutes, the recognizable content of
our present temporal individuality, are all in derogation of our ideal
of impersonal being--saving consciousness, the manifestation of being.
In some minute, imperfect, relative, and almost worthless sense we may
do right in many of our judgments, and be amiable in many of our
sympathies and affections. We cannot be sure even of this. Only people
unhabituated to introspection and self-analysis are quite sure of it.
These are ever those who are loudest in their censures, and most
dogmatic in their opinionative utterances. In some coarse, rude fashion
they are useful, it may be indispensable, to the world's work, which is
not ours, save in a transcendental sense and operation. We have to
strip ourselves of all that, and to seek perfect passionless
tranquillity. Then we may hope to die. Meditation, if it be deep, and
long, and frequent enough, will teach even our practical Western mind to
understand the Hindu mind in its yearning for Nirvana. One
infinitesimal atom of the great conglomerate of humanity, who enjoys the
temporal, sensual life, with its gratifications and excitements, as much
as most, will testify with unaffected sincerity that he would rather be
annihilated altogether than remain for ever what he knows himself to be,
or even recognizably like it.
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