THE SPECTACLE OF THE HEAVENS.

Much, however, as we are indebted to our observatories for elevating our

conceptions of the heavenly bodies, they present, even to the unaided

sight, scenes of glory which words are too feeble to describe. I had

occasion, a few weeks since, to take the early train from Providence to

Boston; and for this purpose rose at 2 o'clock in the morning. Every

thing around was wrapped in darkness and hushed in silence, broken only

by what seemed at that hour the unearthly clank and rush of the train.

It was a mild, serene midsummer's night; the sky was without a

cloud--the winds were whist. The moon, then in the last quarter, had

just risen, and the stars shone with a spectral luster but little

affected by her presence; Jupiter, two hours high, was the herald of the

day; the Pleiades, just above the horizon, shed their sweet influence in

the east; Lyra sparkled near the zenith; Andromeda veiled her newly

discovered glories from the naked eye in the south; the steady Pointers,

far beneath the pole, looked meekly up from the depths of the north to

their sovereign.

Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train. As we proceeded,

the timid approach of twilight became more perceptible; the intense blue

of the sky began to soften, the smaller stars, like little children,

went first to rest; the sister-beams of the Pleiades soon melted

together; but the bright constellations of the west and north remained

unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went on. Hands of

angels hidden from mortal eyes shifted the scenery of the heavens; the

glories of night dissolved into the glories of the dawn. The blue sky

now turned more softly gray; the great watch-stars shut up their holy

eyes; the east began to kindle. Faint streaks of purple soon blushed

along the sky; the whole celestial concave was filled with the inflowing

tides of the morning light, which came pouring down from above in one

great ocean of radiance; till at length, as we reached the Blue Hills, a

flash of purple fire blazed out from above the horizon, and turned the

dewy teardrops of flower and leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a few

seconds the everlasting gates of the morning were thrown wide open, and

the lord of day, arrayed in glories too severe for the gaze of man,

began his course.

I do not wonder at the superstition of the ancient Magians, who in the

morning of the world went up to the hill-tops of Central Asia, and

ignorant of the true God, adored the most glorious work of his hand.

But I am filled with amazement, when I am told that in this enlightened

age, and in the heart of the Christian world, there are persons who can

witness this daily manifestation of the power and wisdom of the Creator,

and yet say in their hearts, "There is no God."

The uses of astronomy · 第 56 / 60 题