on the revolutions of an ant-hill, or of a leaf. What is the Earth to Infinity — what its duration to the Eternal? Oh, how much greater is the soul of one man than the vicissitudes of the whole globe! Child of heaven, and heir of immortality, how from some star hereafter wilt thou look back on the ant-hill and its commotions, from Clovis to Robespierre, from Noah to the Final Fire. The spirit that can contemplate, that lives only in the intellect, can ascend to its star, even from the midst of the Burial-ground called Earth, and while the Sarcophagus called Life immures in its clay the Everlasting!
But thou, Zanoni — thou hast refused to live only in the intellect — thou hast not mortified the heart — thy pulse still beats with the sweet music of mortal passion — thy kind is to thee still something warmer than an abstraction — thou wouldst look upon this Revolution in its cradle, which the storms rock — thou wouldst see the world while its elements yet struggle through the chaos!
Go!
