And in other depths of wonder, the
drop of water is a world; the infusoria breed; animalculae display
gigantic fecundity, the imperceptible reveals its grandeur, immensity
manifests itself, in an inverse sense; there are algae that produce in an
hour thirteen hundred millions of their kind. Every enigma is propounded
in one. The irreducible is before us. Hence we are constrained to some
kind of faith. An involuntary belief is the result. But belief does not
ensure peace of mind. Faith has an extraordinary desire to take shape.
Hence religions. Nothing is so overwhelming as a formless faith.

And despite of thought or desire or inward resistance, to look at the
darkness is to fall into profound and wondering meditation. What can we
make of these phenomena! How should we act beneath their united forces?
To divide such weight of oppression is impossible. What reverie can
follow all these mystic vistas? What abstruse revelations arise,
stammering, and are obscure from their very mass, as a hesitating
speech. Darkness is silence, but such a silence suggests everything. One
majestic thought is the result: God--God is the irrepressible idea that
springs within man's soul. Syllogisms, feuds, negations, systems,
religions cannot destroy it. This idea is affirmed by the whole dark
universe. Yet unrest is everywhere in fearful immanence. The wondrous
correlation of forces is manifested in the upholding of the balanced
darkness. The universe is suspended and nothing falls. Incessant and
immeasurable changes operate without accident or destruction. Man
participates in the constant changes, and in experiencing such he names
them Destiny. But where does destiny begin? And where does nature end?
What difference is there between an event and a season? between a sorrow
and a rainfall? between a virtue and a star? An hour, is it not a
rolling wave? The wheels of creation revolve mechanically regardless of
man. The starry sky is a vision of wheels, pendulums, and counterpoise.

He who contemplates it cannot but ponder upon it.

It is the whole reality and yet the whole abstraction. And nothing more.
We are in prison and at the mercy of the darkness, and no evasion is
possible.

We are an integral part of the working of this unknown whole; and we
feel the mystery within us fraternising with the mystery beyond us.
Hence the sublimity of Death. What anguish! And yet what bliss to
belong to the Infinite, and through the sense of the Infinit