of the hempen cord of his kite that he held the lightning in his grasp; like that when Leverrier received back from Berlin the tidings that the planet predicted by him was found.

Yes, noble Galileo, thou art right: E pur si muove-"It does move." Bigots may make thee recant it, but it moves, nevertheless. Yes, the earth moves, and the planets move, and the mighty waters move, and the great sweeping tides of air move, and the empires of men move, and the world of thought moves, ever onward and upward to higher facts and bolder theories. They may seal thy lips, but they can no more stop the progress of the great truth propounded by Copernicus and demonstrated by thee than they can stop the revolving earth.

Close now, venerable sage, that sightless, tearful eye: it has seen what man never before saw; it has seen enough. Hang up that poor little spyglass: it has done its work. Not Herschel nor Rosse has comparatively done more. Franciscans and Dominicans deride thy discoveries now, but the time will come when from two hundred observatories in Europe and America the glorious artillery of science shall nightly assault the skies; but they shall gain no conquests in those glittering fields before which thine shall be forgotten. Rest in peace, great Columbus of the heavens, like him scorned, persecuted, broken-hearted; in other ages, in distant hemispheres, when the votaries of science with solemn acts of consecration shall dedicate their stately edifices to the cause of knowledge and truth, thy name shall be mentioned with honor.

It is not my intention, in dwelling with such emphasis upon the invention of the

telescope, to ascribe undue importance, in promoting the advancement of science, to the increase of instrumental power. Too much, indeed, cannot be said of the service rendered by its first application in confirming and bringing into general repute the Copernican system, but for a considerable time little more was effected by the wondrous instrument than the gratification of curiosity and taste by the inspection of the planetary phases and the addition of the rings and satellites of Saturn to the solar family. Newton, prematurely despairing of any further improvement in the refracting telescope, applied the principle of reflection, and the nicer observations now made no doubt hastened the maturity of his great discovery of the law of gravitation; but that discovery was the work of his transcendent genius and consummate skill.

With Bradley, in 1741, a new period commenced in instrumental astronomy-not so much of discovery as of measurement. The superior accuracy and minuteness with which the motions and distances of the heavenly bodies were now observed resulted in the accumulation of a mass of new materials both for tabular comparison and theoretical speculation. These materials formed the enlarged basis of astronomical science between Newton and Sir William Herschel. His gigantic reflectors introduced the astronomer to regions of space before unvisited, extended beyond all previous conception the range of the cbserved phenomena, and with it proportionably enlarged the range of constructive theory. The discovery of a new primary planet and its attendant satellites was but the first step of his progress into the labyrinth of the heavens. Contemporaneously

mers, and especially La Place, with a geometrical skill scarcely, if at all, inferior to that of its great author, resumed the whole system of Newton and brought every phenomenon observed since his time within its laws. Difficulties of fact with which he struggled in vain gave way to more accurate observations, and problems that defied the power of his analysis yielded to the modern improvements of the calculus.

But there is no ultima Thule in the progress of science. With the recent augmentations of telescopic power, the details of the nebular theory, proposed by Sir W. Herschel with such courage and ingenuity, have been drawn in question. Many-most-of those milky patches in which he beheld what he regarded as cosmical matter, as yet in an unformed state, the rudimental material of worlds not yet condensed, have been resolved into stars as bright and distinct as any in the firmament. I well recall the glow of satisfaction with which, on the 22d of September, 1847-being then connected with the University at Cambridge-I received a letter from the venerable director of the observatory there beginning with these memorable words: "You will rejoice with me that the great nebula in Orion has yielded to the powers of our incomparable telescope.

It should be borne in mind that this nebula and that of Andromeda [which has been also resolved at Cambridge] are the last strongholds of the nebular theory."

But if some of the adventurous speculations built by Sir William Herschel on the bewildering revelations of his telescope have been since questioned, the vast progress which has been made in sidereal astronomy-to which, as I

particularly devoted the discovery of the parallax of the fixed stars, the investigation of the interior relations of binary and triple systems of stars, the theories for the explanation of the extraordinary, not to say fantastic, shapes discerned in some of the nebulous systems-whirls and spirals radiating through spaces as vast as the orbit of Neptune-the glimpses at systems beyond that to which our sun belongs,-these are all splendid results which may fairly be attributed to the school of Herschel, and will for ever ensure no secondary place to that name in the annals of science.

In the remarks which I have hitherto made I have had mainly in view the direct connection of astronomical science with the uses of life and the service of man. But a generous philosophy contemplates the subject in higher relations. It is a remark as old at least as Plato, and is repeated from him more than once by Cicero, that all the liberal arts have a common bond and relationship. The different sciences contemplate as their immediate object the different departments of animate and inanimate nature, but this great system itself is but one. Its various parts are so interwoven with each other that the most extraordinary relations and unexpected analogies are constantly presenting themselves, and arts and sciences seemingly the least connected render to each other the most effective assistance.

The history of electricity, galvanism and magnetism furnishes the most striking illustration of this remark. Commencing with the meteorological phenomena of our own atmosphere and terminating with the observation of the remotest heavens, it may

well be adduced on an occasion like the present. Franklin demonstrated the identity of lightning and the electric fluid. This discovery gave a great impulse to electrical research with little else in view but the means of protection from the thundercloud. A purely accidental circumstance led the physician Galvani, at Bologna, to trace the mysterious element under conditions entirely novel, both of development and application. In this new form it became in the hands of Davy the instrument of the most extraordinary chemical operations, and earths and alkalis, touched by the creative wire, started up into metals that float on water and kindle in the air. At a later period the closest affinities are observed between electricity and magnetism on the one hand, while on the other the relations of polarity are detected between acids and alkalis. Plating and gilding henceforth become electrical processes. In the last applications of the same subtle medium it has become the messenger of intelligence across the land and beneath the sea, and is now employed by the astronomer to ascertain the difference of longitudes, to transfer the beats of the clock from one station to another, and to record the moment of his observations with automatic accuracy. How large a share has been borne by America in these magnificent discoveries and applications among the most brilliant achievements of modern science will sufficiently appear from the repetition of the names of Franklin, Henry, Morse, Walker, Mitchel, Locke and Bond.

It has sometimes happened, whether from the harmonious relations to each other of the different departments of science or from rare felicity of individual genius, that the most

Sir

extraordinary intellectual versatility has been manifested by the same person. Although Newton's transcendent talent did not blaze out in childhood, yet as a boy he discovered great aptitude for mechanical contrivance. His water-clock, self-moving vehicle and mill were the wonder of the village-the latter propelled by a living mouse. David Brewster represents the accounts as differing whether the mouse was made to advance "by a string attached to its tail" or by "its unavailing attempts to reach a portion of corn placed above the wheel." It seems more reasonable to conclude that the youthful discoverer of the law of gravitation intended, by the combination of these opposite attractions, to produce a balanced movement. It is consoling to the average mediocrity of the race to perceive in these sportive essays that the mind of Newton passed through the stage of boyhood. But, emerging from boyhood, what a bound it made as from earth to heaven! Soon after commencing Bachelor of Arts, at the age of twenty-four, he untwisted the golden and silver threads of the solar spectrum, simultaneously or soon after conceived the method of fluxions, and arrived at the elemental idea of universal gravity before he had passed to his Master's degree. Master of Arts, indeed! That degree, if no other, was well bestowed. Universities are unjustly accused of fixing science in stereotype. That diploma is enough of itself to redeem the honors of academical parchment from centuries of learned dulness and scholastic dogmatism.

But the great object of all knowledge is to enlarge and purify the soul, to fill the mind with noble contemplations and to furnish a refined pleasure. Considering this as

can surely claim precedence of astronomy. No other science furnishes such a palpable embodiment of the abstractions which lie at the foundation of our intellectual systemthe great ideas of time, and space, and extension, and magnitude, and number, and motion, and power. How grand the conception of the ages on ages required for several of the secular equations of the solar system! of distances from which the light of a fixed star would not reach us in twenty millions of years of magnitudes compared with which the earth is but a football! of starry hostssuns like our own-numberless as the sands on the shore! of worlds and systems shooting through the infinite spaces with a velocity compared with which the cannon-ball is a way-worn, heavy-paced traveller!

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 two o'clock in the morning. Everything 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 lustre 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

Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train. tered 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 state.

I do not wonder at the superstition of the ancient Magians who in the morning of the world went up to the hilltops 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."

this

Numerous as are the heavenly bodies visible to the naked eye, and glorious as are their manifestations, it is probable that in our own system there are great numbers as yet undiscovered. Just two hundred years ago year Huygens announced the discovery of one satellite of Saturn, and expressed the opinion that the six planets and six satellites then known, and making up the perfect number of twelve, composed the whole of our planetary system. In 1729 an astronomical writer came to the conclusion that there might be other bodies in our system, but that the limit of telescopic power had been reached and no further discoveries were likely to be made. The orbit of one comet only had been definitely calculated. Since that time the power of the telescope has been indefinitely increased; two primary planets of the first class, ten satellites and forty-three small planets (August, 1856), revolving between Mars and Jupiter, have been discovered; the orbits of six or seven hundred comets, some of brief period, have been ascertained; and it has been computed that hundreds of thousands of these mysterious bodies wander through our system. There is no reason to think that all the primary planets which revolve about the sun have been discovered. An indefinite increase in the number of asteroids may be anticipated; while, outside of Neptune, between our sun and the nearest fixed star, supposing the attraction of the sun to prevail through half the distance, there is room for ten more primary planets, succeeding each other at dis

tances increasing in a geometrical ratio. The first of these will unquestionably be discovered as soon as the perturbations of Neptune shall have been accurately observed, and with maps of the heavens on which the smallest telescopic stars are laid down any one of them may be discovered much sooner.

But it is when we turn our observation and our thoughts from our own system to the systems which lie beyond it in the heavenly spaces that we approach a more adequate conception of the vastness of creation. All analogy teaches us that the sun which gives light to us is but one of those countless stellar fires which deck the firmament, and that every glittering star in that shining host is the centre of a system as vast and as full of subordinate luminaries as our own. Of these suns-centres of planetary systems-thousands are visible to the naked eye, millions are discovered by the telescope. Sir John Herschel, in the account of his operations at the Cape of Good Hope, calculates that about five and a half millions of stars are visible enough to be distinctly counted in a twenty-foot reflector in both hemispheres. He adds, "That the actual number is much greater there can be little doubt. His illustrious father estimated on one occasion one hundred and twenty-five thousand stars passed through the field of his forty-foot reflector in a quarter of an hour. This would give twelve million for the entire circuit of the heavens in a single telescopic zone; and this estimate was made under the assumption that the nebula were masses of luminous matter not yet condensed into suns.

These stupendous calculations, however, form but the first column of the inventory of the universe. Faint white specks are