93. No day can be uneventful, save in ourselves alone; but in the
day that seems most uneventful of all, there is still room for the
loftiest destiny; for there is far more scope for such destiny
within ourselves than on the whole continent of Europe. Not by the
extent of empire is the range of destiny governed, but, indeed, by
the depth of our soul. It is in our conception of life that real
destiny is found; when at last there is delicate balance between the
insoluble questions of heaven and the wavering response of our soul.
And these questions become the more tranquil as they seem to
comprise more and more; and to the sage, whatever may happen will
still widen the scope of the questions, still give deeper confidence
to the reply. Speak not of destiny when the event that has brought
you joy or sadness has still altered nothing in your manner of
regarding the universe. All that remains to us when love and glory
are over, when adventures and passions have faded into the past, is
but a deeper and ever-deepening sense of the infinite; and if we
have not that within us, then are we destitute indeed. And this
sense of the infinite is more than a mere assemblage of thoughts,
which, indeed, are but the innumerable steps that thither lead.
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