And if he has been an earthly ruler, and sat restlessly upon his throne of power, working against the rights of others for his own individual prominence, how much more galling, how much more appalling is his condition when he finds that the meanest of his subjects is more free than he; for he has nothing but his own thoughts that return and consume.

Shadows, it may be, to the better man; to him, living realities; and these do not pass from him by his seeking to evade them. He might fly through day and night; wander up and down the dwellings of earth or of space; he might seek in the remotest star exemption from every presence, but they would be with him still, because he carries the wrong within himself.

As one lost in the forest woods soon follows a circle and moves in a very narrow sphere round and round, so the self-haunted victims of their own condition are not able to go beyond the narrow confines of their own individual state. To them no planet, no sun, no splendor of space offers a retreat; no blooming vales of earth, and no wide deserts could be an escape; they still must pass like those within the charmed ring, round and round the small centre of their own desires and darkened conditions, feeding upon the shadows which they have created. And but for the love that lies latent in every heart; but for some gleam of the affection, mayhap of wife or little child, that shall have power to move the strongest heart of crime, these might be said to have no hope; yet we know that that one tie of love, that one gleaming light from within, will one day rescue them.

Powerless to do others harm, the shafts that they have aimed at others, by the law of the spirit, are found within themselves. And such is the moral law of the universe, whether you be on earth or in spirit state, whenever venom goes out from your presence aimed at another life or another heart, you will be surprised to find it not in the life that you have aimed to injure, but in your own spirit. These are laws that if applied to your outermost consciousness, crime and uncharitableness would sink away before the actual life of the spirit, and the venom that you heap upon others would certainly be dispelled by broader love and higher dignity of goodness. Then you will become aware that there is no law of gravitation that can govern the spirit, and no other law of nature that can direct its course, save that which causes all evil that is in you to gravitate towards yourself, and the goodness that is in you to radiate towards others, and by reflection shine upon you again.

Such then is the state of the abject servant of human passion. All individuals may apply this with profit, for we know of no one free from imperfection; none indeed who may not learn the lesson which we have just recited, with great profit and apply it day and night while in the earthly dwelling; for even then when you come face to face with your own spiritual state, there will be much that you wish that you did not possess, much that you could wish had been washed in some white pool of the soul before you were brought face to face with the knowledge of it.

As angels never look upon mortals and spirits other than with compassion, but, as they are pictured, turning away so that they may not see the selfishness and self-abasement of him who becomes aware of his faults, so in the heights that are above you there are none that will censure you as severely as you do yourself; none, indeed, that will not gaze down with compassion upon a state which they well can understand and which you are endeavoring to overcome.

My next picture must finish: and that is the condition of him who is free from selfishness as is possible for one to be in human life. Usually such an one is humble upon earth; usually he must walk the paths of penury and poverty and toil, for there is little room for opulence with those who are lowly in spirit.

You will remember that it is related of Buddha that he was born a prince, inherited all the kingdom of his father's possessions, and was studiously sequestered from the world within his Paradise of Delights in the Temple of Perfect Enjoyment, that he might not know of sorrow, sin or death; and that there came unto his life love, pleasure, enjoyment, tranquillity. But the deep foreboding of his destiny haunted him day and night, and some unknown voice called him from his father's dwelling to go out and see the world. His white horse was summoned; his servant brought to his master the favorite steed; and in the silence of the night he went out into the world that he might see its marvels. Behold, there was sin, and death, and suffering, and he had never seen either. And then he went away into the kingdoms where the good men hold recluse, that he might learn the secret of suffering and know the causes of sin. There he did not find it; holy men led goodly lives, and with them he fasted and prayed, but there came to him no revelation. He went into the mysterious places of the earth to endeavor to find the secret, but found it not. He came into the condition of the lowly, and partook of the food that the peasant offered him in the sweet seclusion of her home, and entering beneath the shade of the mysterious tree whose leaves even now proclaim his name, he perceived the secret of all compassion to be one with these whom he had looked upon with horror; to enter every state and condition. to partake of their sorrows and share their wrongs. And thus there came to him in the twelfth watch of the night the wonderful conception of Nervana - the victory over pain, and suffering, and crime, and death. And thenceforth Buddha was free, and became a teacher, a Messiah, because there was nothing withheld from him; nothing, indeed, that he was not willing to share.

So, when a goodly life or an exalted nature is upon earth, he may not be known to his fellows. He may walk the earth humble; he may wear the raiment of poverty; he may be despised because he has not opulence; he may be persecuted because he has truth; he may not even rise to the dignity of martyr, but may be put to death ignominiously, because not equal in wealth but greater in integrity than his fellow-men.

I know of such a life; of one who upon earth had barely clothes to cover his body, but who labored day by day in the dusty field, endeavoring to supply the needs of those dependent upon him; but yet there came up from his heart no murmuring, no complaint. He did not even despise the wealthy that passed him by; he did not cast one envious glance towards their estates or the splendor of their surroundings; he never thought of comparing his children, dressed in the scanty raiment of poverty, with those that passed him by in the splendor of their lordly apparel. He had learned the great secret of life; he had found the well-spring of happiness. Neighbors and friends came to him oftentimes for counsel in their difficulties; wherever there was sickness or death he was the calm and skillful attendant. He could leave his plow, he could leave his field of grain at any time for a call of humanity; and many a night his calm face was found bending above the couch of pain while others, even the attendant physician, sought repose in their own palatial dwellings. He went out from his neighbors and friends respected by them, loved certainly by those who knew him, but unhonored by the many. No bells were tolled from lofty towers, no churches proclaimed his departure, no solemn ritual, no funeral service, no long train of carriages containing distinguished mourners following his form to the burial place. The few who were members of his dwelling had been taught by him not to mourn the approach of death; and the children sat there, calm without, yet serious, and the wife made no murmuring. Those who gazed upon them said: "Those children, have no feeling." But the good man had taught them there was nothing to fear in the change called death, and if they would be near to his love and care, they must meet every thing in life with equal fortitude and equal calmness and equal love. And by some mysterious joy which those around did not know, the eyes of the little ones were cast upward, and the lips seemed open as if to hold communion with him there.

That man's life on earth was a benediction; it was like a folded psalm between two leaves, that if opened and read would be leaves of gold and syllables of jeweled light. But not a ray or ripple upon the rustling surface of society, only when that spirit became conscious of spiritual life, the snowy humility that encircled him round about was like white lilies; there sprang up from every portion of the beautiful space around him faces like the faces of children, clothed upon with angelic beauty - the goodly deeds and thoughts of that man's life; and a crown that others saw, but which he in his humility did not perceive, did not know that he wore, adorned his brow. It was the crown of his pure thoughts and lofty aspirations; and the raiment that he wore unconsciously to himself, still filled with the humility of his earthly life, was snowy in the whiteness and purity of his soul. There were those whom he had benefited; those whom he had ministered to in their dying hours; those whom he had elevated into hope of immortality, bringing to him garlands of sweet remembrance, thronging upon him with words of congratulation; and into the far space his soul could gaze with the clear vision of satisfaction, and the God of Love had opened the pathway of his vision, and he could see the immortal splendor of truth. Angels and Arch-angles could bend above him, and minister such food of the soul as only those can understand who have tasted the immortal life.

And he, without fear or trembling, or shadow or stain upon his spirit, and one with the whiteness of death and the transports of being, could cast upon all the community around and upon many lives of earth that never knew him, such white radiance as would blossom out in prayer, or praise, or goodly deed. And the wordly man, inspired suddenly to do some act of kindness here, paused in the midst of his daily pursuits at the sound of a little child's voice, not knowing that it was the white soul of that saint who had inspired him to the deed of goodness. Such are some of the typical states in spiritual life.