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only good of my friends, entrust my secrets and
my money to them, and am betrayed. If I show
offence at such treachery, it is always I who am
punished.
I try to love mankind in the mass; I shut my
eyes to their faults, and with inexhaustible
patience endure their meanesses and slanders, and
one fine day I find myself a sharer of their crimes.
Whenever I withdraw from society which I
consider injurious, the demons of solitude attack
me, and when I look for better friends, I come
on the track of the worst. Yes, after I have
conquered my evil inclinations and through
loneliness have attained to a certain degree of
inward peace, I am caught in the snare of
self-satisfaction and despising my neighbour. And
self-conceit is the deadliest of sins, which is
instantly punished.
How is one to explain the fact that every step
of progress in virtue gives rise to a fresh sin?
Swedenborg solves the puzzle by declaring that
sins are punishments inflicted on men in requital
for sins of the more heinous class. Thus those
who are greedy of power are condemned to the
hell of the Sodomites. Supposing this theory
to be true, we must endure the burden of our
wickedness and rejoice at the pangs of
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