Not the rider on the white horse: nor the rider on the red. That which is beyond the riders and the horses, the inexplicable mystery of the star whence no horseman comes and to which no horseman can arrive. The star which is a man’s innermost clue, which rules the power of the blood on the one hand, and the power of the spirit on the other.
For this, the only thing which is supreme above all power in a man, and at the same time, is power; which far transcends knowledge; the strange star between the sky and the waters of the first cosmos: this is man’s divinity.
And some men are not divine at all. They have only faculties. They are slaves, or they should be slaves.
But many a man has his own spark of divinity, and has it quenched, blown out by the winds of force or ground out of him by machines.
And when the spirit and the blood in man begin to go asunder, bringing the great death, most stars die out.
Only the man of a great star, a great divinity, can bring the opposites together again, in a new unison.
And this was Ramón, and this was his great effort: to bring the great opposites into contact and into unison again. And this is the god-power in man. By this power you shall know the god in man. By none other.
Ramón was a man as the least of his peons was a man, with the beating heart and the secret loins and the lips closed on the same secret of manhood. And he was human as Kate was human, with the same yearning of the spirit, for pure knowledge and communion, the soul in the greatness of its comprehending.