Speaker 1: Solitude. Why idly seek from outward things? The answer inward
silence brings why climb the far off hills in pain
a nearer view of heaven? To gain in lowliest depths
of Bosky Dells, the hermit contemplation dwells whence piercing heaven
with screened sight, he sees at noon the stars whose
light shall glorify the coming night. Wittier in the still hour,
when passion is at rest, gather up stores of wisdom
in thy breast Wordsworth. Man's essential being is inward, invisible, spiritual,
and as such it derives its life strength from within,
not from without. Outward things are channels through which its
energies are expended, but for renewal it must fall back
on the inward silence. In so far as man's to
drown this silence in the noisy pleasures of the senses
and endeavors to live in the conflicts of outward things,
just so much does he reap the experiences of pain
and sorrow, which, becoming at last intolerable, drive him back
to the feet of inward comforter, to the shrine of
the peaceful solitude within. As the body cannot thrive on
empty husks. Neither can the spirit be sustained on empty pleasures.
If not regularly fed, the body loses its vitality, and,
pained with hunger and thirst, cries out for food and drink.
It is the same with the spirit. It must be
regularly nourished in solitude on pure and holy thoughts, or
it will lose its freshness and strength, and will at
last cry out in its painful and utter starvation. The
yearning of an anguish stricken soul for lighting consolation is
the cry of a spirit that is perishing of hunger
and thirst. All pain and sorrow is spiritual starvation, and
aspiration is the cry for food. It is a prodigal
son who, perishing of hunger, turns his face longingly towards
his father's home. The pure life of the spirit cannot
be found, but is lost in the life of the senses.
The lower desires are ever clamorous for more, and they
afford no rest. The outward world of pleasure, personal contact,
and noisy activities is a sphere of wear and tear,
which necessitates the counterbalancing effect of solitude. Just as the
body requires rest for the recuperation of its forces, so
the spirit requires solitude for the renewal of its energies.
Solitude is as indispensable to man's spiritual welfare as sleep
is to his bodily well being, and pure thought or meditation,
which is evoked in solitude is to the spirit what
activity is to the body. As the body breaks down
when deprived of the needful rest and sleep, so do
the spirits of men break down, being deprived of the
necessary silence and solitude. Man as a spiritual being cannot
be maintained in strength, uprightness, and peace except if he
periodically withdraws himself from the outer world of perishable things,
and reaches inward towards the abiding and imperishable realities. The
consolations of the creeds are derived from the solitude which
those creeds enforce. The regular observance of the ceremonies of
formal religion, attended as they are, with concentrated silence and
freedom from worldly distractions, compels men to do unconsciously that
which they have not yet learned to do consciously, namely,
to concentrate the mind periodically on the inward silence, and meditate,
though very briefly, on high and holy things. The man
who has not learned to control and purify his mind
in seasons of chosen solitude, Yet whose awakening aspirations grow
for something higher and nobler than he possesses, feels the
necessity for the aid of ceremonial religion. But he who
has taken himself in hand with a view to self conquest,
who withdraws into solitude in order to grapple with his
lower nature and masterfully bend his mind in holy directions,
requires no further aid from book or priest or church.
The Church does not exist for the pleasure of the saint,
but for the evaluation of the sinner. In solitude, a
man gathers strength to meet the difficulties and temptations of life,
knowledge to understand and conquer them, and wisdom to transcend them.
As a building is preserved and sustained by virtue of
the foundation, which is hidden and unobserved, so a man
is maintained perpetually in strength and peace by virtue of
his lonely hour of intense thought, which no eye beholds.
It is in solitude only that a man can be
truly revealed to himself, that he can come to understand
his real nature with all its powers and possibilities. The
voice of the spirit is not heard in the hubbub
of the world, and amid the clamors of conflicting desires.
There can be no spiritual growth without solitude. There are
those who shrink from too close a scrutiny of themselves,
who dread too complete a self revelation, and who fear
that solitude would leave them alone with their thoughts and
call up before their mental vision the wrath of their desires.
And so they go where the din of pleasure is loudest,
and where the reproving voice of truth is drowned. But
he who loves truth, who desires and seeks wisdom, will
be much alone. He will see the fullest, clearest revelation
of himself, will avoid the haunts of frivelty and noise,
and will go where the sweet, tender voice of the
Spirit of truth can speak within him and be heard.
Men go after much company and seek out new excitements,
but they are not acquainted with peace. In diverse paths
of pleasure, they search for happiness, but they do not
come to rest. Through diverse ways of laughter and feverish delirium,
they wander after gladness and life. But their tears are
many and grievous, and they do not escape death. Drifting
upon the ocean of life in search of selfish indulgences,
men are caught in its storms, and only after many
tempests and much privation do they fly to the rock
of refuge, which rests in the deep silence of their
own being. While a man is absorbed in outward activities,
he is giving out his energies and is becoming spiritually weaker,
And in order to retain his moral vigor, he must
resort to solitary meditation. So needful is this that he
who neglects it loses or does not attain the right
knowledge of life. Nor does he comprehend and overcome those
most deeply rooted and subtlest of sins, which appear like virtues,
deceiving the elect, and to which all but the truly
wise succumb. True dignity abides with him alone, who, in
the silent hour of inward thought, can still suspect and
still revere himself in lowliness of heart. He who lives
without ceasing in outward excitement, lives most in disappointments and griefs,
where the sounds of pleasure are greatest heart. Emptiness is
the keenest and deepest He also, whose whole life, even
if not one of lust for pleasure, is centered in
outward works, who deals only with the changing panorama of
visible things, never falling back in solitude upon the inner
and invisible world of permanent being. Such a man does
not attain knowledge and wisdom, but remains empty. He cannot
aid the world, cannot feed it aspirations, for he has
no food to offer it, his spiritual store being empty.
But he who courts solitude in order to search for
the truth of things, who subdues his senses and makes
quiet his desires, such a man is daily attaining knowledge
and wisdom. He becomes filled with the spirit of truth.
He can aid the world, for his spiritual store is
full and is kept well replenished. While a man is
absorbed in the contemplation of inward realities, he is receiving
knowledge and power. He opens himself like a flower to
the universal light of truth, and receives and drinks in
its life, imparting rays. He also goes to the eternal
foundation of knowledge and quenches his thirst in its inspiring waters.
Such a man gains in one hour of concentrated thought
more essential knowledge than a whole year's reading could impart.
Being is infinite, and knowledge is illimitable, and its source inexhaustible.
And he who draws upon the innermost depths of his
being drinks from the spring of divine wisdom, which can
never run dry, and quafs the waters of immortality. It
is this habitual association with the deep realities of being,
this continual drinking in of the water of life and
its perennial source, that constitutes genius. The resources of genius
are inexhaustible because they are drawn from the original and
universal source. And for the same reason the works of
genius are ever new and fresh. The more a genius
gives out, the fuller he becomes with the accomplishment of
every work. His mind extends and expands, reaches out more vastly,
and sees wider and ever wider ranges of power. The
genius is inspired. He has bridged the gulf between the
finite and the infinite. He needs no secondary aids, but
draws from that universal spring which is the source of
every noble work. The difference between a genius and an
ordinary man is this The one lives in inward realities,
the other in outward appearances. The one goes after pleasure,
the other after wisdom. The one relies on books, the
other relies upon his own being. Book learning is good
when its true place is understood, but is not the
source of wisdom. The source of wisdom is in life itself,
and is comprehended by effort, practice, and experience. Books give information,
but they cannot bestow knowledge. They can simulate, but cannot accomplish.
You must put forth effort and achieve for yourself. The
man who relies entirely upon books and does not go
to the silent resources within himself is superficial and becomes
rapidly exhausted. He is uninspired, though he may be extremely clever,
for he soon reaches the end of his stock of
information and so becomes void and repetitious. His work lacks
the sweet spontaneity of life and ever renewed freshness of inspiration.
Such a man has cut himself off from the infinite
supply and deals not with life itself, but with dead
or decaying appearances. Information is limited, knowledge is boundless. The
inspiration of genius and greatness is fostered evolved and finally
completed in solitude. The most ordinary man who conceives a
noble purpose, and summoning all his energies and will broods
upon and ripens his purpose in solitude, will accomplish his
object and become a genius. The man who renounces the
pleasure of the world, who avoids popularity and fame, and
who works in obscurity and thinks in solitude for the
accomplishment of a lofty ideal for the human race, becomes
a seer and a prophet. He who silently sweetens his heart,
who attunes his mind to that which is pure and
beautiful and good, who in long hours of lonely contemplation,
strives to reach the central, in eternal heart of things,
brings himself in touch with the inaudible harmonies of being,
opens himself for the reception of the cosmic song, and
becomes at last a singer and a poet. And so
with all genius. It is the child of solitude, a
very simple hearted child, wide eyed and listening and beautiful,
yet withal to the noise enamored world, in inc comprehensible
mystery of which it is only now and then a
glimpse from beyond the well guarded portals of silence in
man's self arise august anticipations, symbols types of a dim
splendor ever on before. In that eternal circle, life pursues.
Saint Paul, the cruel persecutor and blind bigot. After spending
three years alone in the desert, comes forth a loving apostle,
an inspired seer. Gautama Sidahartha, the man of the world,
after six years in the forest of lonely struggle with
his passions and intense meditation upon the deep mysteries of
his nature, becomes Buddha, the Enlightened One, the embodiment of calm,
serene wisdom, to whom a heart thirsty world turns to
refreshing waters of immortality. Lao Tazou, an ordinary citizen filling
a worldly office in his search for knowledge, courts solidlitude
and discovers the Tao, the supreme Reason by virtue of
which he becomes a world teacher. Jesus the unlettered Carpenter.
After many years of solitary communion upon the mountains, with
the unfailing love and wisdom, comes forth the blessed Savior
of mankind. Even after they had attained and had scaled
the lofty heights of divine knowledge. These great souls were
much alone and retired frequently for brief seasons of solitude.
The greatest man will fall from his moral height and
lose his influence if he neglects that renewal of power
which can only be obtained in solitude. These masters attained
their power by consciously harmonizing their thoughts and lives with
the creative energies within themselves, and by transcending individuality and
sinking their petty personal will into the universal will. They
became masters of creative thought and stand as the loft
tiest instruments for the outer working of cosmic evolution. And
this is not miraculous. It is a matter of law.
It is not mysterious, except in so far as law
is mysterious. Every man becomes a creative master in so
far as he subordinate himself to the universally good and true.
Every poet, painter, saint, and sage is the mouthpiece of
the eternal. The perfection of the message varies with the
measure of individual selflessness. In so far as self intervenes,
the distinctness of the work and message becomes blurred perfect
selflessness is the acme of genius, the consummation of power.
Such self abdignation can only be begun, pursued, and completed in solitude.
A man cannot gather together and concentrate his spiritual forces
when he is engaged in spending those forces in worldly activities.
And although after power is attacked, the balance of forces
can be maintained under all circumstances, even in the midst
of antagonistic throng, such power is only secured after many
years of frequent and habitual solitude. Man's true home is
in the great silence. This is the source of all
that is real and abiding within him. His present nature, however,
is dual, and outer activities are necessary. Neither entire solitude
nor entire action is the true life in the world.
But that is the true life, which gathers in solitude,
strength and wisdom to rightly perform the activities of life.
And as a man returns to his home in the evening,
weary from labor, for that sweet rest and refreshment which
will prepare him for another day's toil, so must he
would not break down in the labor of life, come
away from the noise and toil of the world's great workshop,
and rest for brief period in his abiding home in
the silence. He who does this, spending some portion of
each day in sacred and purposeful solitude, will become strong
and useful and blessed. Solitude is for the strong, for
those who are ready to become strong. When a man
is becoming great, he becomes solitary. He goes in solitude
to seek, and not which he seeks, he finds. For
there is a way to all knowledge, all wisdom, all truth,
all power, and the way is forever open, but it
lies through soundless solitudes and the unexplored silences of man's being.