acy which prevents
intrusion on the personality of others; which abhors a prying
curiosity; which finds subtle ways of conveying esteem and
delicate modes of rendering service. But the secret of moral
refinement is of a far higher order, transcending aesthetic
refinement by as much as goodness is superior to mere charm. The
secret in this case consists in the insight vouchsafed to the
spiritually-minded of the true end of human existence.

Constituted as we are, there exist for us lower and higher ends.
This distinction is fundamental for ethics. Food is necessary;
without it we cannot live. But the getting of food--however
necessary--is a lower end. Knowledge is a necessary end, and a
higher one. The practical moral ends, such as the reformation of
prisons, the improvement of the dwellings of the poor, are yet
higher ends. But above all these is the highest end, that of moral
completeness, of perfection, not in one particular but in every
particular. Spirituality consists in always keeping in view this
supreme end. The spiritually-minded person is one who regards
whatever he undertakes from the point of view of its hindering or
furthering his attainment of the supreme end. If a river had a
consciousness like the human consciousness, we might imagine
that it hears the murmur of the distant sea from the very moment
when it leaves its source, and that the murmur grows clearer and
clearer as the river flows on its way, welcoming every tributary it
receives as adding to the volume which it will contribute to the
sea, rejoicing at every turn and bend in its long course that brings
it nearer to its goal. Such is the consciousness of a spiritually-minded
human being. Or to take a simile from human experience. There
are times when we go abroad to travel just for change of scenery
and the refreshment which change brings with it. When we go in
this mood we are likely to be intent on wayside pleasures, and
at every stage of the journey, at every town where we halt, we
shall suffer ourselves to be engrossed in the points of interest
which that temporary abiding-place has to offer us, careless of
what may await us farther on. But there are other times when
we go abroad on serious business. Some congress of scientists or
fellow-workers is to meet in which we are to take our part; or there
is a conflict being waged in which we are to bear our share of
wounds or death, as in the case of the Japanese, who are now
setting out from the