That night I went to hear a great scientist lecture on
astronomy.
THE SUBLIMITY OF HIS SUBJECT,
the idea of a universe of stars as yet unbounded, the higher idea of an
infinitude of such universes, each but a handful of mist in the greatest
telescope, raised me to a point of feeling which made life an ineffable
delight. I went to my bed, and thanked a Creator out of a boundless
thankfulness. I have thought that the twenty-third Psalm (beginning,
"The Lord is my shepherd)" is a hymn of thanksgiving inspired with the
same high quality of satisfaction. Surely,
MAN IS NOT THE VICIOUS LUMP OF CLAY
which the atheist would have him when he is able to command that picture
of Faith which Wordsworth wrote:
I have seen
A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract
Of inland ground, applying to his ear
The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell;
To which in silence hushed, his very soul
Listened intensely, and his countenance soon
Brightened with joy,--for murmurings from within
Were heard, sonorous cadences! whereby,
To his belief the monitor expressed
Mysterious union with its native sea.
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