No, we must not allow ourselves to be frightened by the mere size and
weight of the universe, or be depressed because our immediate genealogy
is not considered aristocratic. Perhaps, after all, we are sons of God,
and as Mr. Meredith finely puts it, our life here may still be

'... a little holding
To do a mighty service.'

'Things of a day!' exclaims Pindar. 'What is a man? What is a man not?'

It is good for our Nebuchadnezzars, the kings of the world, and
conceited, successful people generally, to measure themselves against
the great powers of the universe, to humble their pride by contemplation
of the fixed stars; but a too humble attitude toward the Infinite, a too
constant pondering upon eternity, is not good for us, unless, so to say,
we can live with them as friends, with the inspiring feeling that,
little as we may seem, there is that in us which is no less infinite, no
less cosmic, and that our passions and dreams have, as Mr. William
Watson puts it, 'a relish of eternity.'

Readers of Amiel's 'Journal' will know what a sterilising, petrifying
influence his trance-like contemplation of the Infinite had upon his
life. Amiel was simply hypnotised by the universe, as a man may
hypnotise himself by gazing fixedly at a star.

Mr. Pater, you will remember, has a remarkable study of a similar
temperament in his _Imaginary Portraits_. Sebastian van Storck, like
Amiel, had become hypnotised by the Infinite. It paralysed in him all
impulse or power 'to be or do any limited thing.'