Raphael, that it is our own condition, when we
feel that of another, that perfection becomes ours for the moment during
which we raise in ourselves the representation of it; that the delight we
take in truth, beauty, and virtue shows itself when closely analyzed to
be the consciousness of our individual ennobling and enriching; and I
think I have proved this.

We have ideas of the wisdom of the highest Being, of His goodness, of His
justice, but none of His omnipotence. To describe His omnipotence, we
help ourselves by the graduated representation of three successions:
Nothing, His Will, and Something. It is waste and empty; God calls on
light; and there is light. If we had a real idea of His operative
omnipotence we should be creators, as He.

Accordingly, every perfection which I perceive becomes my own; it gives
me joy, because it is my own; I desire it, because I love myself.
Perfection in nature is no property of matter, but of spirits. All
spirits are happy through their perfection. I desire the happiness of
all souls, because I love myself. The happiness which I represent to
myself becomes my happiness; accordingly I am interested in awakening
these representations, to realize them, to exalt them; I am interested in
diffusing happiness around me. Whenever I produce beauty, excellence, or
enjoyment beyond myself, I produce myself; when I neglect or destroy
anything, I neglect, I destroy myself. I desire the happiness of others,
because I desire my own; and the desire of the happiness of others we
call benevolence and love.

LOVE.

Now, my most worthy Raphael, let me look round. The height has been
ascended, the mist is dissipated; I stand in the midst of immensity, as
in the middle of a glowing landscape. A purer ray of sunlight has
clarified all my thoughts. Love is the noblest phenomenon in the world
of souls, the all-powerful magnet in the spiritual sphere, the source of
devotion and of the sublimest virtue. Yet love is only the reflection of
this single original power, an attraction of the excellent, based upon an
instantaneous permutation of individuality, an interchange of being.

When I hate, I take something from myself; when I love, I become richer
by what I love. To pardon is to recover a property that has been lost.
Misanthropy is a protracted suicide: egotism is the supremest poverty of
a created being.

When Raphael tore himself from my embrace my soul was rent in twain, and
I weep over the l