ANTAGONISM
Lord of the Darkness, Master of the Sun,
Strip me of all my strenuous life has won,
But let Sleep’s sweet oblivion o’er me sweep,
Closing Night’s leering eyes—oh, give me sleep!
ANONYMOUS.
Though you want rest, peace, sleep—the opposites of strife—yet people
will oppose you and want you to go their impossible ways. That need
not arouse opposition, nor break your rest, nor disturb the even tenor
of your way. One disadvantage of allowing ourselves to be disturbed is
that we cannot be angry with one person without being angry with all
about us. Or at least the harmony of our relation is broken, because,
despite our effort, we cannot succeed in separating ourselves from our
brothers. The next time you are angry or impatient with someone who has
opposed you, take note how it affects your tone and your feeling toward
those who are innocent of any offense.
One such investigation into our own condition when annoyed will help
to cure us of being angry; for there is no use in trying to correct
all the mistakes or worrying over the neglects of others, even of the
children of our own bodies. Other people, “the same as us,” have to
learn by their mistakes, and often do learn by some success that we
considered manifestly impossible.
As we could not be wisdom and conscience to the whole world, Providence
has kindly given us enough to do in taking care of our own actions.
When Mosenthal was organist at Calvary Church, the brides used to give
him directions about just what pieces they wanted played at their
weddings; Mosenthal would say, “Ah! that is a beautiful selection,”
or “A magnificent march!” As he said, “I listen to all the lovely
ladies’ orders—then I play what I think best—and it always goes all
right.” He did not make rows by trying to convince excited girls
that the “Mikado” would not be just the thing for the church, or
to persuade nice mammas without musical education that “Traumerei”
would not do for a wedding. It was not necessary to lie, only to give
what approval could be given and then to “gae his ain gait.” Most
people are not really much set in their own ways, they only seem to
be. They have an idea (or they think they have one—an idea is a rare
and precious possession) and they want to “get it off.” Let them; why
should you make the explosion dangerous by confining it? Maybe they
were only trying to argue with themselves, and, having got rid of the
idea, they are content, if their self-love is not roused in defense of
it. Like the codfish which deposits her eggs and has no more care about
them, they are quite content to leave the results to Nature.
There was a tract called the “Oiled Feather,” which was very popular
in England forty years ago. Sam, a wagoner, has a bottle of oil with
a feather stuck in the cork, and, when a barn-door sticks or harness
creaks or a king-bolt binds, instead of using force, he always brings
out his oil bottle and feather. His friend has not learned the
usefulness of gentle methods and gets into all sorts of trouble, until
he sees that the Oiled Feather principle applies to horses and to
people and to difficulties, as well as to things.
“Est modus in rebus”—which means that “there is a way in things” just
as much as in people: get into key with it and all will go smoothly.
Did you ever try to split trap-rock with a hammer? You may batter all
day at one side and you will only knock off chips, spoil your hammer,
and hurt your hands: but, when you have found the right spot, a tap
knocks it in pieces. That tap is the “open sesame” to which alone the
stone will yield. You may storm at it all day with your “open millet”
or “open wheat,” but its heart can be reached only by its own word. So
the stony heart of the world can be broken only by the Master Word of
Love.
Now, if you have made what is said in Chapter XXVII your own, you do
not need all this; for you know that, as long as you arouse antagonism
in others, you can be annoyed and irritated by others, but not one
moment longer. The punching-bag can neither dent nor be dented: if it
is so made that it injures no one, it turns out that no one injures it,
no matter how roughly he strikes it.
When your lovelight shines in darkness, not only will your own path be
bright, but you will be a guide and a comforter to others, and they
will follow you.