o be
recognized and to be loved. Love is the magic touch that transforms all
that is barren and cold into all that is rich and warm and fruitful. But
man is neither loved nor recognized by the immensities of the universe.
And in face of the illimitable stretches of time and space even the
stoutest heart involuntarily quakes. We cannot consider the vast power
of the universe without feeling crushed and becoming despondent. And
ignorant man cannot see in the finite things about him the full
expression of the infinite beyond. He cannot derive any moral strength
or comfort from the world about him because he conceives that world to
be an implacable instrument of a god's uncertain, inexplicable will. He
therefore cosmically projects, in a frenzy of despair, his crying human
demand. And out of the wastes of space there arises for him a personal
God.

Anthropomorphic religions reveal man at his weakest, not at his best.
Man's true grandeur is shown when he transcends by his own power of mind
his insistent human desires. He can then stand free before the Almighty.
He may tremble, but he is not afraid. For his strength of soul is
grounded not in the external world but in his own ideal. If we are born
under a lucky star, and are fortunate and happy lovers of the ideal, the
ecstasy of the mystic's beatific vision is ours. But even if we are born
under an unlucky star, and are misfortunate and unhappy lovers of the
ideal, we still have the ideal to which we can hold fast and save
ourselves from being shattered in our despairs, from dying in spirit,
which is far more terrible than any death in the body could possibly be.
We have the ideal to give us the strength, if we are lovers of God, to
go to the cross with Jesus; or, if we are lovers of Virtue, to drink the
hemlock with Socrates.

The intellectual love of God is a devotion purged of all fear, of all
vain regrets and even vainer hopes. The wild and angry emotions of
sorrow and pain leave the strong and noble heart of man like the tidal
waves leave the scattered rocks of the shore. As the rocks, when the
waves return to their depths, smile securely in the glistening sun in
the sky, so does the brave, free heart of man, when the passionate
deluge is spent, smile serenely in the face of God. The free man is born
neither to weep nor to laugh but to view with calm and steadfast mind
the eternal nature of things.

To know the eternal is the immortality we enjoy. But to know the ete