I give praise to the owner. A learned man
we admire, honor, envy, but also praise. His wisdom is the result of
effort.
Plainly, then, praise and blame are attributable exclusively to
spiritual beings. Nature is unfit for honor. We may admire her, may
wish that our ways were like hers, and envy her great law-abiding
calm. But it would be foolish to praise her, or even to blame when her
volcanoes overwhelm our friends. We praise spirit only, conscious
deeds. Where self-directed action forces its path to a worthy goal, we
rightly praise the director.
Now, if all this is true, there seems often-times a strange
unsuitableness in praise. We may well decline to receive it. To praise
some of our good qualities, pretty fundamental ones too, often strikes
us as insulting. You are asked a sudden question and put in a
difficult strait for an answer. "Yes," I say, "but you actually did
tell the truth. I wish to congratulate you. You were successful and
deserve much praise." But who would feel comfortable under such
eulogy? And why not? If telling the truth is a spiritual excellence
and the result of effort, why should it not be praised? But there lies
the trouble. I assumed that to be a truth-teller required strain on
your part. In reality it would have required greater strain for
falsehood.
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