THE STARS (Astronomy)

An old theme – too old, too common, perhaps, to call forth a transient feeling of interest; but as we look from our sanctum to-night, and behold the wide heavens clothed in beauty, thick with brilliants living with light, and think of the perfection and harmony of that great system, planned by the Creator, we cannot forbear one more tribute to the hundreds already penned by far abler hands than ours. How rich to-night’s sky! The clouds so small, so broken, like white crumbs fallen from the tables of angels; here and there they lay in light drifts, and the moon with fleet steps is climbing their slopes in their midst.

To how many, the myriads of shining worlds glowing and blazing through the impalpable veil of night, are but luminous atoms, likened only in their grosser imaginations to earth’s gems, the flashing diamond, of costly gold. They seldom pause to think varied beauty the handiwork of the Almighty, are vast bodies suspended in space, and moving with a velocity almost incredible to the largest comprehension. We are prone, if we think of the thing at all, to divide days into hours, hours into minutes, minutes into seconds, and there rest as if there could be no smaller infinitesimal of sound.

Strange to us is the sound – “the computation of a thousandth part of a second.” And yet that little period in which, ordinarily, but a breath can be respired, that little space which a word can cover, or the quick uplifting of a finger leave far behind in the grave of the past, is capable of such division! Yes, these great planets, mild young moons, whose light often makes its track on the motionless waters, move swifter than our swiftest thoughts, outstripping time itself; passing through millions, outstripping time itself; passing through millions of miles in the hundredth part of one little second.

When we reflect for a moment on the myriads of worlds thus grandly and ceaselessly marching through distant realms, where not mind nor vision have yet traversed in mortality, crossing and re-crossing the heavens, daring in their fiery course from sphere to sphere, yet never clashing; never deviating from the exact equilibrium which Deity has designed them, we cannot wonder at the saying “as undevout astronomer is mad.” He holds, as it were, familiar inter-course with Deity’s great agents; and his soul should be – nay, must be thronged with images of the lofty and the beautiful.

We cannot wonder at the zeal with which he devotes himself to arduous labor, searching to the profoundest depths of his noble science for new mysteries. We cannot wonder that he spends sleepless nights, his vigils the calm, and passionless-seeming stars – yet in his sight glorious creations, filling him with sublimity, and kindling in his heart emotions of love and reverence and worship.

And when we are gone, and the moss has gathered on our grave-stones, and the words of the graver have grown smooth as the polished shaft, and our resting places are forgotten, those same serene lights will look down upon the spot, as burning, as indestructible, as glorious as ever. – Solemn thought! Shall we be beyond them?