Cold and unmoved I look
down upon them all; for I know that I cannot interpret one of them,
nor discern its connection with that which is my only concern.
Everything which takes place belongs to the plan of the eternal world,
and is good in relation to that plan; so much I know. But what, in
that plan, is pure gain, and what is only meant to remove existing
evil, accordingly what I should most or least rejoice in, I know not.
In his world everything succeeds. This suffices me, and in this faith
I stand firm as a rock. But what in his world is only germ, what
blossom, what the fruit itself, I know not. The only thing which can
interest me is the progress of reason and morality in the kingdom of
rational beings--and that purely for its own sake, for the sake of the
progress. Whether _I_ am the instrument of this progress or another,
whether it is my act which succeeds or is thwarted, or whether it is
the act of another, is altogether indifferent to me. I regard myself
in every case but as one of the instruments of a rational design, and
I honor and love myself, and am interested in myself, only as such;
and I wish the success of my act only so far as it goes to accomplish
that end. Therefore I regard all the events of this world in the same
manner and only with exclusive reference to this one end--whether
they proceed from me or from another, whether they relate to me
immediately, or to others. My breast is closed against all vexation
on account of personal mortifications and affronts, against all
exaltation on account of personal merits; for my entire personality
has long since vanished and been swallowed up in the contemplation of
the end.

* * * * *

Bodily sufferings, pain and sickness, should such befal me, I cannot
avoid to feel, for they are events of my nature, and I am and remain
nature here below. But they shall not trouble me. They affect only the
Nature with which I am, in some strange way, connected; not myself,
the being which is elevated above all Nature. The sure end of all
pain, and of all susceptibility of pain, is death; and of all which
the natural man is accustomed to regard as evil, this is the least so
to me. Indeed, I shall not die for myself, but only for others, for
those that remain behind, from whose connection I am severed. For
myself, the hour of death is the hour of birth to a new and more
glorious life.

Since my heart is thus closed to all desire for the