The Greek had spoken of men creeping on the earth, as if clinging to it.

Now Man was to tread on the earth as if to subdue it.

Christianity thus held a thought of the dignity of man that could only be expressed in crowns rayed like the sun and fans of peacock plumage.

Yet at the same time it could hold a thought about the abject smallness of man that could only be expressed in fasting and fantastic submission, in the grey ashes of St.Dominic and the white snows of St.Bernard.When one came to think of _one's self_, there was vista and void enough for any amount of bleak abnegation and bitter truth.

There the realistic gentleman could let himself go--as long as he let himself go at himself.