A man on a desert island has a little sand, some goats and a few
miles of ocean around him--nothing else in sight.
But above him, and on the low plains of the horizon, the great
universe is spread out. Vega flashes overhead, beckoning to this
little solar system that is rolling on toward her.
The old, benevolent stars look through cold space at our little
sun that was not even hatched in their yesterday.
The Milky Way, that Mississippi of the sky, rolls across the
thousands of billions of miles of space.
The messenger-boy comets go on their long, elliptical errands.
The colored planets and moons, the nebular masses and the cold,
dead worlds lying in the silent morgue of eternity tell the
wonderful story of cosmic grandeur.
We should think that a man on a desert island, living constantly
in contemplation of God's real work, would want to study that
work.
The greatest book ON MEN that ever was written on this earth
is but an analysis of the emotions of imperfect human minds. A
good ASTRONOMY is a guide book of GOD'S kingdom.
Many Cook County litterateurs select Carlyle for a desert island
companion. Have they not observed that Carlyle's mind was fixed
on contemplation of the universe?--"the eternal silences" were
his friends.
Pages:
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240