[TO the few who love me and whom I love -- to those who feel rather than to
 those who think -- to the dreamers and those who put faith in dreams as in the
 only realities -- I offer this book of Truths, not in its character of
 Truth-Teller, but for the Beauty that abounds in its Truth, constituting it
 true. To these I present the composition as an Art-Product alone: -- let us say
 as a Romance; or, if I be not urging too lofty a claim, as a Poem.
 
    What I here propound is true: -- therefore it cannot die; or if by any means
 it be now trodden down so that it die, it will "rise again to the Life
 Everlasting."

    Nevertheless it is as a Poem only that I wish this work to be judged after I
 am dead.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    IT is with humility really unassumed -- it is with a sentiment even of awe
 -- that I pen the opening sentence of this work; for of all conceivable
 subjects, I approach the reader with the most solemn, the most comprehensive,
 the most difficult, the most august.

    What terms shall I find sufficiently simple in their sublimity --
 sufficiently sublime in their simplicity -- for the mere enunciation of my
 theme?

    I design to speak of the Physical, Metaphysical and Mathematical -- of the
 Material and Spiritual Universe; of its Essence, its Origin, its Creation, its
 Present Condition, and its Destiny.  I shall be so rash, moreover, as to
 challenge the conclusions, and thus, in effect, to question the sagacity, of
 many of the greatest and most justly reverenced of men.

    In the beginning, let me as distinctly as possible announce, not the theorem
 which I hope to demonstrate -- for, whatever the [page 118:] mathematicians may
 assert, there is, in this world at least, no such thing as demonstration -- but
 the ruling idea which, throughout this volume, I shall be continually
 endeavoring to suggest.

    My general proposition, then, is this: -- In the Original Unity of the First
 Thing lies the Secondary Cause of All Things, with the Germ of their Inevitable
 Annihilation.

    In illustration of this idea, I propose to take such a survey of the
 Universe that the mind may be able really to receive and to perceive an
 individual impression.

    He who from the top of AEtna casts his eyes leisurely around, is affected
 chiefly by the extent and diversity of the scene. Only by a rapid whirling on
 his heel could he hope to comprehend the panorama in the sublimity of its
 oneness.  But as, on the summit of AEtna, no man has thought of whirling on his
 heel, so no man has ever taken into his brain the full uniqueness of the
 prospect; and so, again, whatever considerations lie involved in this
 uniqueness have as yet no practical existence for mankind.

 . . . [Much introductory material omitted, much of it pretty funny]

 Now, of these atoms, thus diffused, or upon diffusion, what conditions are we
 permitted -- not to assume, but to infer, from consideration as well of their
 source as of the character of the design apparent in their diffusion? Unity
 being their source, and difference from Unity the character of the design
 manifested in their diffusion, we are warranted in supposing this character to
 be at least generally  preserved throughout the design, and to form a portion
 of the design itself; that is to say, we shall be warranted in conceiving
 continual differences at all points from the uniquity and simplicity of the
 origin. But, for these reasons, shall we be justified in imagining the atoms
 heterogeneous, dissimilar, unequal, and inequidistant? More explicitly -- are
 we to consider no two atoms as, at their diffusion, of the same nature, or of
 the same form, or of the same size? -- and, after fulfilment of their diffusion
 into Space, is absolute inequidistance, each from each, to be understood of all
 of them?  In such arrangement, under such conditions, we most easily and
 immediately comprehend the subsequent most feasible carrying out to completion
 of any such design as that which I have suggested -- the design of variety out
 of unity -- [page 135:] diversity out of sameness -- heterogeneity out of
 homogeneity -- complexity out of simplicity -- in a word, the utmost possible
 multiplicity of relation  out of the emphatically irrelative One. Undoubtedly,
 therefore, we should be warranted in assuming all that has been mentioned, but
 for the reflection, first, that supererogation is not presumable of any Divine
 Act; and, secondly, that the object supposed in view appears as feasible when
 some of the conditions in question are dispensed with, in the beginning, as
 when all are understood immediately to exist. I mean to say that some are
 involved in the rest, or so instantaneous a consequence of them as to make the
 distinction inappreciable. Difference of size, for example, will at once be
 brought about through the tendency of one atom to a second, in preference to a
 third, on account of particular inequidistance; which is to be comprehended as
 particular inequidistances between centres of quantity, in neighboring atoms of
 different form -- a matter not at all interfering with the generally-equable
 distribution of the atoms.  Difference of kind, too, is easily conceived to be
 merely a result of differences in size and form, taken more or less conjointly;
 -- in fact, since the Unity of the Particle Proper implies absolute
 homogeneity, we cannot imagine the atoms, at their diffusion, differing in
 kind, without imagining, at the same time, a special exercise of the Divine
 Will at the emission of each atom, for the purpose of effecting in each a
 change of its essential nature; -- and so fantastic an idea is the less to be
 indulged, as the object proposed is seen to be thoroughly attainable without
 such minute and elaborate interposition. We perceive, therefore, upon the
 whole, that it would be supererogatory, and consequently unphilosophical, to
 predicate of the atoms, in view of their purposes, anything more than
 difference of form at their dispersion, with particular inequidistance after it
 -- all other differences arising at once out of these, in the very first
 processes of mass-constitution. We thus establish the Universe on a purely
 geometrical basis. Of course, it is by no means necessary to assume absolute
 difference, even of form, among all the atoms radiated -- any more than
 absolute particular inequidistance of each from each. We are required to
 conceive merely that no neighboring atoms are of similar form -- no atoms which
 can ever approximate, until their inevitable reunition at the end. [page 136:]

    Although the immediate and perpetual tendency of the disunited atoms to
 return into their normal Unity is implied, as I have said, in their abnormal
 diffusion, still it is clear that this tendency will be without consequence --
 a tendency and no more -- until the diffusive energy, in ceasing to be exerted,
 shall leave it, the tendency, free to seek its satisfaction. The Divine Act,
 however, being considered as determinate, and discontinued on fulfilment of the
 diffusion, we understand, at once, a reaction  -- in other words, a satisfiable
 tendency of the disunited atoms to return into One.

    But the diffusive energy being withdrawn, and the reaction having commenced
 in furtherance of the ultimate design -- that of the utmost possible Relation
 -- this design is now in danger of being frustrated, in detail, by reason of
 that very tendency to return which is to effect its accomplishment in general.
 Multiplicity is the object; but there is nothing to prevent proximate atoms
 from lapsing at once, through the now satisfiable tendency -- before the
 fulfilment of any ends proposed in multiplicity -- into absolute oneness among
 themselves; there is nothing to impede the aggregation of various unique
 masses, at various points of space, -- in other words, nothing to interfere
 with the accumulation of various masses, each absolutely One.

    For the effectual completion of the general design, we thus see the
 necessity for a repulsion of limited capacity -- a separate something which, on
 withdrawal of the diffusive Volition, shall at the same time allow the
 approach, and forbid the junction, of the atoms; suffering them infinitely to
 approximate, while denying them positive contact; in a word, having the power
 -- up to a certain epoch -- of preventing their coalition, but no ability to
 interfere with their coalescence in any respect or degree. The repulsion,
 already considered as so peculiarly limited in other regards, must be
 understood, let me repeat, as having power to prevent absolute coalition, only
 up to a certain epoch. Unless we are to conceive that the appetite for Unity
 among the atoms is doomed to be satisfied never; unless we are to conceive that
 what had a beginning is to have no end -- a conception which cannot really be
 entertained, however much we may talk or dream of entertaining it -- we are
 forced to conclude that the repulsive influence imagined, will, finally, under
 pressure of the Uni-tendency collectively [page 137:] applied, but never and in
 no degree until, on fulfilment of the Divine purposes, such collective
 application shall be naturally made, yield to a force which, at that ultimate
 epoch, shall be the superior force precisely to the extent required, and thus
 permit the universal subsidence into the inevitable, because original and
 therefore normal, One. The conditions here to be reconciled are difficult
 indeed; we cannot even comprehend the possibility of their conciliation;
 nevertheless, the apparent impossibility is brilliantly suggestive.

    That the repulsive something actually exists, we see. Man neither employs,
 nor knows, a force sufficient to bring two atoms into contact. This is but the
 well-established proposition of the impenetrability of matter. All Experiment
 proves, all Philosophy admits it. The design of the repulsion -- the necessity
 for its existence -- I have endeavored to show, but from all attempt at
 investigating its nature have religiously abstained; this on account of an
 intuitive conviction that the principle at issue is strictly spiritual -- lies
 in a recess impervious to our present understanding -- lies involved in a
 consideration of what now, in our human state, is not to be considered -- in a
 consideration of Spirit in itself. I feel, in a word, that here the God has
 interposed, and here only, because here and here only the knot demanded the
 interposition of the God.

    In fact, while the tendency of the diffused atoms to return into Unity will
 be recognized, at once, as the principle of the Newtonian Gravity, what I have
 spoken of as a repulsive influence prescribing limits to the (immediate)
 satisfaction of the tendency, will be understood as that which we have been in
 the practice of designating now as heat, now as magnetism, now as electricity;
 displaying our ignorance of its awful character in the vacillation of the
 phraseology with which we endeavor to circumscribe it.

    Calling it, merely for the moment, electricity, we know that all
 experimental analysis of electricity has given, as an ultimate result, the
 principle, or seeming principle, heterogeneity. Only where things differ, is
 electricity apparent; and it is presumable that they never differ where it is
 not developed at least, if not apparent. Now, this result is in the fullest
 keeping with that which I have reached unempirically. The design of the
 repulsive influence I [page 138:] have suggested to be that of preventing
 immediate Unity among the diffused atoms; and these atoms are represented as
 different each from each. Difference is their character -- their essentiality
 -- just as no-difference was the essentiality of their course. When we say,
 then, that an attempt to bring any two of these atoms together would induce an
 effort, on the part of the repulsive influence, to prevent the contact, we may
 as well use the strictly convertible sentence that an attempt to bring together
 any two differences will result in a development of electricity. All existing
 bodies, of course, are composed of these atoms in proximate contact, and are
 therefore to be considered as mere assemblages of more or fewer differences;
 and the resistance made by the repulsive spirit, on bringing together any two
 such assemblages, would be in the ratio of the two sums of the differences in
 each, -- an expression which, when reduced, is equivalent to this: The amount
 of electricity developed on the approximation of two bodies is proportional
 with the difference between the respective sums of the atoms of which the
 bodies are composed. That no two bodies are absolutely alike, is a simple
 corollary from all that has been here said. Electricity, therefore, existing
 always, is developed whenever any bodies, but manifested  only when bodies of
 appreciable difference, are brought into approximation.

     To electricity -- so, for the present, continuing to call it -- we may not
 be wrong in referring the various physical appearances of light, heat, and
 magnetism; but far less shall we be liable to err in attributing to this
 strictly spiritual principle the more important phenomena of vitality,
 consciousness, and Thought. On this topic, however, I need pause here merely to
 suggest that these phenomena, whether observed generally or in detail, seem to
 proceed at least in the ratio of the heterogeneous.

    Discarding now the two equivocal terms, "gravitation" and "electricity," let
 us adopt the more definite expressions, "Attraction"  and "Repulsion."  The
 former is the body, the latter the soul; the one is the material, the other the
 spiritual, principle of the Universe. No other principles exist. All  phenomena
 are referable to one, or to the other, or to both combined. So rigorously is
 this the case, so thoroughly demonstrable is it that Attraction and Repulsion
 are the sole properties through which we [page 139:] perceive the Universe --
 in other words, by which Matter is manifested to Mind -- that, for all merely
 argumentative purposes, we are fully justified in assuming that Matter exists
 only as Attraction and Repulsion -- that Attraction and Repulsion are matter;
 there being no conceivable case in which we may not employ the term "Matter"
 and the terms "Attraction" and "Repulsion," taken together, as equivalent, and
 therefore convertible, expressions in Logic.

    I said, just now, that what I have described as the tendency of the diffused
 atoms to return into their original Unity, would be understood as the principle
 of the Newtonian law of Gravity; and, in fact, there can be but little
 difficulty in such an understanding, if we look at the Newtonian Gravity in a
 merely general view, as a force impelling Matter to seek Matter; that is to
 say, when we pay no attention to the known modus operandi of the Newtonian
 force. The general coincidence satisfies us; but, on looking closely, we see,
 in detail, much that appears incoincident, and much in regard to which no
 coincidence, at least, is established. For example:  the Newtonian Gravity,
 when we think of it in certain moods, does not seem to be a tendency to oneness
 at all, but rather a tendency of all bodies in all directions -- a phrase
 apparently expressive of a tendency to diffusion. Here, then, is an
 incoincidence. Again; when we reflect on the mathematical law governing the
 Newtonian tendency, we see clearly that no coincidence has been made good, in
 respect of the modus operandi, at least, between Gravity as known to exist and
 that seemingly simple and direct tendency which I have assumed.

    In fact, I have attained a point at which it will be advisable to strengthen
 my position by reversing my processes. So far, we have gone on a priori, from
 an abstract consideration of Simplicity, as that quality most likely to have
 characterized the original action of God. Let us now see whether the
 established facts of the Newtonian Gravitation may not afford us, a posteriori,
 some legitimate inductions.

    What does the Newtonian law declare? That all bodies attract each other with
 forces proportional with their quantities of matter and inversely proportional
 with the squares of their distances. Purposely, I have given, in the first
 place, the vulgar version of the law; and I confess that in this, as in most
 other vulgar versions [page 140:] of great truths, we find little of a
 suggestive character. Let us now adopt a more philosophical phraseology: --
 Every atom, of every body, attracts every other atom, both of its own and of
 every other body, with a force which varies inversely as the squares of the
 distances between the attracting and attracted atom. Here, indeed, a flood of
 suggestion bursts upon the mind.

    But let us see distinctly what it was that Newton proved -- according to the
 grossly irrational definitions of proof prescribed by the metaphysical schools.
 He was forced to content himself with showing how thoroughly the motions of an
 imaginary Universe, composed of attracting and attracted atoms obedient to the
 law he announced, coincide with those of the actually existing Universe so far
 as it comes under our observation. This was the amount of his demonstration;
 that is to say, this was the amount of it, according to the conventional cant
 of the "philosophies." His successors added proof multiplied by proof -- such
 proof as a sound intellect admits -- but the demonstration of the law itself,
 persist the metaphysicians, had not been strengthened in any degree. "Ocular,
 physical proof," however, of Attraction, here upon Earth, in accordance with
 the Newtonian theory, was at length, much to the satisfaction of some
 intellectual grovellers, afforded. This proof arose collaterally and
 incidentally (as nearly all important truths have arisen) out of an attempt to
 ascertain the mean density of the Earth. In the famous Maskelyne, Cavendish and
 Bailly experiments for this purpose, the attraction of the mass of a mountain
 was seen, felt, measured, and found to be  mathematically consistent with the theory 
 of the British astronomer.

    But in spite of this confirmation of that which needed none, in spite of the
 so-called corroboration of the "theory" by the so-called "ocular and physical
 proof," in spite of the character of this corroboration, the ideas which even
 really philosophical men cannot help imbibing of Gravity -- and, especially,
 the ideas of it which ordinary men get and contentedly maintain -- are seen to
 have been derived, for the most part, from a consideration of the principle as
 they find it developed merely in the planet upon which they stand.

    Now, to what does so partial a consideration tend -- to what species of
 error does it give rise? On the Earth we see and feel [page 141:] only that
 Gravity impels all bodies towards the centre of the Earth. No man in the common
 walks of life could be made to see or feel anything else -- could be made to
 perceive that anything, anywhere, has a perpetual, gravitating tendency in any
 other direction than to the centre of the Earth; yet (with an exception
 hereafter to be specified) it is a fact that every earthly thing (not to speak
 now of every heavenly thing) has a tendency not only to the Earth's centre but
 in every conceivable direction besides.

    Now, although the philosophic cannot be said to err with the vulgar in this
 matter, they nevertheless permit themselves to be influenced, without knowing
 it, by the sentiment of the vulgar idea.  "Although the Pagan fables are not
 believed," says Bryant, in his very erudite "Mythology," "yet we forget
 ourselves continually, and make inferences from them as from existing
 realities." I mean to assert that the merely sensitive perception of Gravity,
 as we experience it on Earth, beguiles mankind into the fancy of
 concentralization or especiality respecting it -- has been continually biasing
 towards this fancy even the mightiest intellects -- perpetually, although
 imperceptibly, leading them away from the real characteristics of the
 principle; thus preventing them, up to this date, from ever getting a glimpse
 of that vital truth which lies in a diametrically opposite direction -- behind
 the principle's essential characteristics -- those, not of concentralization or
 especiality, but of universality and diffusion. This "vital truth" is Unity as
 the source of the phenomenon.

    Let me now repeat the definition of Gravity: -- Every atom, of every body,
 attracts every other atom, both of its own and of every other body, with a
 force which varies inversely as the squares of the distances of the attracting
 and attracted atom.

    Here let the reader pause with me, for a moment, in contemplation of the
 miraculous, of the ineffable, of the altogether unimaginable, complexity of
 relation involved in the fact that each atom attracts every other atom;
 involved merely in this fact of the Attraction, without reference to the law or
 mode in which the Attraction is manifested; involved merely in the fact that
 each atom attracts every other atom at all, in a wilderness of atoms so
 numerous that those which go to the composition of a cannon-ball exceed, [page
 142:] probably, in mere point of number, all the stars which go to the
 constitution of the Universe.

 . . .

 In speaking not long ago, of the repulsive or electrical influence, I remarked
 that "the important phenomena of vitality, consciousness, and thought, whether
 we observe them generally or in detail, seem to proceed at least in the ratio
 of the heterogeneous."* I mentioned, too, that I would recur to the suggestion;
 and this is the proper point at which to do so. Looking at the matter, first,
 in detail, we perceive that not merely the manifestation of vitality, but its
 importance, consequences, and elevation of character, keep pace very closely
 with the heterogeneity, or complexity, of the animal structure. Looking at the
 question, now, in its generality, and referring to the first movements of the
 atoms towards mass-constitution, we find that heterogeneousness, [page 173:]
 brought about directly through condensation, is proportional with it forever.
 We thus reach the proposition that the importance of the development of the
 terrestrial vitality proceeds equably with the terrestrial condensation.


    Now, this is in precise accordance with what we know of the succession of
 animals on the Earth. As it has proceeded in its condensation, superior and
 still superior races have appeared. Is it impossible that the successive
 geological revolutions which have attended, at least, if not immediately
 caused, these successive elevations of vitalic character -- is it improbable
 that these revolutions have themselves been produced by the successive
 planetary discharges from the Sun; in other words, by the successive variations
 in the solar influence on the Earth? Were this idea tenable, we should not be
 unwarranted in the fancy that the discharge of yet a new planet, interior to
 Mercury, may give rise to yet a new modification of the terrestrial surface --
 a modification from which may spring a race both materially and spiritually
 superior to Man. These thoughts impress me with all the force of truth; but I
 throw them out, of course, merely in their obvious character of suggestion.

. . .

 Let me explain: -- The Newtonian Law of Gravity we may, of course, assume as
 demonstrated. This law, it will be remembered, I have referred to the reaction
 of the first Divine Act -- to the reaction of an exercise of the Divine
 Volition temporarily overcoming a difficulty. This difficulty is that of
 forcing the normal into the abnormal -- of impelling that whose originality,
 and therefore whose rightful condition, was One, to take upon itself the
 wrongful condition of Many. It is only by conceiving this difficulty as
 temporarily overcome, that we can comprehend a reaction. There could have been
 no reaction had the act been infinitely continued. So long as the act lasted no
 reaction, of course, could commence; in other words, no gravitation could take
 place -- for we have considered the one as but the manifestation of the other.
 But gravitation has taken place; therefore the act of Creation has ceased: and
 gravitation has long ago taken place; therefore the act of Creation has long
 ago ceased. We can no more expect, then, to observe the primary processes of
 Creation; and to these primary processes the condition of nebulosity has
 already been explained to belong.

    Through what we know of the propagation of light, we have direct proof that
 the more remote of the stars have existed, under the forms in which we now see
 them, for an inconceivable number of years. So far back at least, then, as the
 period when these stars underwent condensation, must have been the epoch at
 which the mass-constitutive processes began. That we may conceive these
 processes, then, as still going on in the case of certain "nebulae," while in
 all other cases we find them thoroughly at an end, we are forced into
 assumptions for which we have really no basis whatever; we have to thrust in,
 again, upon the revolting Reason, the blasphemous idea, of special
 interposition; we have to suppose that, in the particular instances of these
 "nebulae," an unerring [page 177:] God found it necessary to introduce certain
 supplementary regulations -- certain improvements of the general law -- certain
 retouchings and emendations, in a word, which had the effect of deferring the
 completion of these individual stars for centuries of centuries beyond the era
 during which all the other stellar bodies had time, not only to be fully
 constituted, but to grow hoary with an unspeakable old age.

    Of course, it will be immediately objected that, since the light by which we
 recognize the nebulae now must be merely that which left their surfaces a vast
 number of years ago, the processes at present observed, or supposed to be
 observed, are, in fact, not processes now actually going on, but the phantoms
 of processes completed long in the Past -- just as I maintain all these mass-
 constitutive processes must have been.

. . .

   Let us now fancy -- merely fancy -- for the moment, that the ring first
 thrown off by the Sun -- that is to say, the ring whose breaking-up constituted
 Neptune -- did not, in fact, break up until the throwing -off of the ring out
 of which Uranus arose; that this latter ring, again, remained perfect until the
 discharge of that out of which sprang Saturn; that this latter, again, remained
 entire until the discharge of that from which originated Jupiter -- and so on.
 Let us imagine, in a word, that no dissolution occurred among the rings until
 the final rejection of that which gave birth to Mercury. [page 179:] We thus
 paint to the eye of the mind a series of coexistent concentric circles; and
 looking as well at them as at the processes by which, according to Laplace's
 hypothesis, they were constructed, we perceive at once a very singular analogy
 with the atomic strata and the process of the original radiation as I have
 described it. Is it impossible that, on measuring the forces, respectively, by
 which each successive planetary circle was thrown off -- that is to say, on
 measuring the successive excesses of rotation over gravitation which occasioned
 the successive discharges -- we should find the analogy in question more
 decidedly confirmed? Is it improbable that we should discover these forces to
 have varied -- as in the original radiation -- proportionally with the squares
 of the distances?

    Our solar system, consisting, in chief, of one sun, with seventeen planets
 certainly, and possibly a few more, revolving about it at various distances,
 and attended by seventeen moons assuredly, but very probably by several others,
 is now to be considered as an example of the innumerable agglomerations which
 proceeded to take place throughout the Universal Sphere of atoms on withdrawal
 of the Divine Volition. I mean to say that our solar system is to be understood
 as affording a generic instance of these agglomerations, or, more correctly, of
 the ulterior conditions at which they arrived. If we keep our attention fixed
 on the idea of the utmost possible Relation as the Omnipotent design, and on
 the precautions taken to accomplish it through difference of form, among the
 original atoms, and particular inequidistance, we shall find it impossible to
 suppose for a moment that even any two of the incipient agglomerations reached
 precisely the same result in the end.  We shall rather be inclined to think
 that no two stellar bodies in the Universe -- whether suns, planets, or moons
 -- are particularly, while all are generally, similar. Still less, then, can we
 imagine any two assemblages of such bodies -- any two "systems" -- as having
 more than a general resemblance.* Our telescopes, [page 180:] at this point,
 thoroughly confirm our deductions. Taking our own solar system, then, as merely
 a loose or general type of all, we have so far proceeded in our subject as to
 survey the Universe of Stars under the aspect of a spherical space, throughout
 which, dispersed with merely general equability, exist a number of but
 generally similar systems.

    * It is not impossible that some unlooked-for optical improvement may
 disclose to us, among innumerable varieties of systems, a luminous sun,
 encircled by luminous and non-luminous rings, within and without and between
 which, revolve luminous and non-luminous planets, attended by moons -- and even
 these latter again having moons.

. . .

 Let us now, expanding our conceptions, look upon each of these system as in
 itself an atom; which in fact it is, when we consider it as but one of the
 countless myriads of systems which constitute the Universe. Regarding all,
 then, as but colossal atoms, each with the same ineradicable tendency to Unity
 which characterizes the actual atoms of which it consists, we enter at once a
 new order of aggregations. The smaller systems, in the vicinity of a larger
 one, would, inevitably, be drawn into still closer vicinity. A thousand would
 assemble here; a million there -- perhaps here, again, even a billion --
 leaving, thus, immeasurable vacancies in space. And if, now, it be demanded
 why, in the case of these systems -- of these merely Titanic atoms -- I speak,
 simply, of an "assemblage," and not, as in the case of the actual atoms, of a
 more or less consolidated agglomeration; if it be asked, for instance, why I do
 not carry what I suggest to its legitimate conclusion, and describe, at once,
 these assemblages of system-atoms as rushing to consolidation in spheres -- as
 each becoming condensed into one magnificent sun -- my reply is that xxxxxx
 xxxxxx [[Greek text, for mellonta tauta]] -- I am but pausing, for a moment, on
 the awful threshold of the Future.  For the present, calling these assemblages
 "clusters," we see them in the incipient stages of their consolidation. Their
 absolute consolidation is to come.

    We have now reached a point from which we behold the Universe of Stars as a
 spherical space, interspersed, unequably, with clusters. It will be noticed
 that I here prefer the adverb "unequably" to the phrase "with a merely general
 equability," employed before. It is evident, in fact, that the equability of
 distribution will diminish in the ratio of the agglomerative processes -- that
 is to say, as the things distributed diminish in number. Thus the increase of
 inequability -- an increase which must continue until, sooner or later, an
 epoch will arrive at which the largest agglomeration [page 181:] will absorb
 all the others -- should be viewed as, simply, a corroborative indication of
 the tendency to One.

. . .

    We comprehend, then, the insulation of our Universe. We perceive the
 isolation of that -- of all that which we grasp with the senses. We know that
 there exists one cluster of clusters -- a collection around which, on all
 sides, extend the immeasurable wildernesses of a Space to all human perception
 untenanted. But because upon the confines of this Universe of Stars we are
 compelled to pause, through want of farther evidence from the senses, is it
 right to conclude that, in fact, there is no material point beyond that which
 we have thus been permitted to attain? Have we, or have we not, an analogical
 right to the inference that this perceptible Universe; that this cluster of
 clusters, is but one of a series of [page 185:] clusters of clusters, the rest
 of which are invisible through distance -- through the diffusion of their light
 being so excessive, ere it reaches us, as not to produce upon our retinae a
 light-impression -- or from there being no such emanation as light at all, in
 those unspeakably distant worlds -- or, lastly, from the mere interval being so
 vast that the electric tidings of their presence in Space, have not yet --
 through the lapsing myriads of years -- been enabled to traverse that interval?

    Have we any right to inferences -- have we any ground whatever for visions
 such as these? If we have a right to them in any degree, we have a right to
 their infinite extension.

    The human brain has obviously a leaning to the "Infinite," and fondles the
 phantom of the idea. It seems to long with a passionate fervor for this
 impossible conception, with the hope of intellectually believing it when
 conceived. What is general among the whole race of Man, of course no individual
 of that race can be warranted in considering abnormal; nevertheless, there may
 be a class of superior intelligences, to whom the human bias alluded to may
 wear all the character of monomania.

    My question, however, remains unanswered: -- Have we any right to infer --
 let us say, rather, to imagine -- an interminable succession of the "clusters
 of clusters," or of "Universes" more or less similar?

    I reply that the "right," in a case such as this, depends absolutely upon
 the hardihood of that imagination which ventures to claim the right. Let me
 declare, only, that, as an individual, I myself feel impelled to the fancy --
 without daring to call it more -- that there does exist a limitless succession
 of Universes, more or less similar to that of which we have cognizance, to that
 of which alone we shall ever have cognizance, at the very least until the
 return of our own particular Universe into Unity. If such clusters of clusters
 exist, however -- and they do -- it is abundantly clear that, having had no
 part in our origin, they have no portion in our laws. They neither attract us,
 nor we them. Their material, their spirit is not ours -- is not that which
 obtains in any part of our Universe. They could not impress our senses or our
 souls. Among them and us -- considering all, for the moment, collectively --
 there are no influences in common. Each [page 186:] exists, apart and
 independently, in the bosom of its proper and particular God.

    In the conduct of this Discourse, I am aiming less at physical than at
 metaphysical order. The clearness with which even material phenomena are
 presented to the understanding depends very little, I have long since learned
 to perceive, upon a merely natural, and almost altogether upon a moral,
 arrangement. If then I seem to step somewhat too discursively from point to
 point of my topic, let me suggest that I do so in the hope of thus the better
 keeping unbroken that chain of graduated impression by which alone the
 intellect of Man can expect to encompass the grandeurs of which I speak, and,
 in their majestic totality, to comprehend them.

. . .[Poe provides a long discussion of astronomical distances using metaphors
such as cannonballs and trans-Atlantic voyages to try to convey the hugeness of
space and the time involved in traversing it.]

   Our fancies thus occupied with the cosmical distances, let us take the
 opportunity of referring to the difficulty which we have so often experienced,
 while pursuing the beaten path of astronomical reflection, in accounting for
 the immeasurable voids alluded to; in comprehending why chasms so totally
 unoccupied and therefore apparently so needless, have been made to intervene
 between star and star, between cluster and cluster; in understanding, to be
 brief, a sufficient reason for the Titanic scale, in respect of mere Space, on
 which the Universe of Stars is seen to be constructed. A rational cause for the
 phenomenon, I maintain that Astronomy has palpably failed to assign; but the
 considerations through which, in this essay, we have proceeded step by step,
 enable us clearly and immediately to perceive that Space and Duration are one.
 That the Universe might endure  throughout an aera at all commensurate with the
 grandeur of its component material portions and with the high majesty of its
 spiritual purposes, it was necessary that the original atomic diffusion be made
 to so inconceivable an extent as to be only not infinite. It was required, in a
 word, that the stars should be gathered into visibility from invisible
 nebulosity -- proceed from visibility to consolidation -- and so grow gray in
 giving birth and death to unspeakably numerous and complex variations of
 vitalic development; it was required that the stars should do all this --
 should have time thoroughly to accomplish all these Divine purposes -- during
 the period in which all things were effecting their return into Unity with a
 velocity accumulating in the inverse proportion of the squares of the distances
 at which lay the inevitable End.

    Throughout all this we have no difficulty in understanding the absolute
 accuracy of the Divine adaptation. The density of the stars, respectively,
 proceeds, of course, as their condensation diminishes; condensation and
 heterogeneity keep pace with each other; through the latter, which is the index
 of the former, we estimate the vitallic and spiritual development. Thus, in the
 density of the globes, we have the measure in which their purposes are
 fulfilled. As  density proceeds -- as the divine intentions are accomplished --
 [page 197:] as less and still less remains to be accomplished -- so, in the
 same ratio, should we expect to find an acceleration of the End; and thus the
 philosophical mind will easily comprehend that the Divine designs in
 constituting the stars, advance mathematically to their fulfilment; -- and
 more, it will readily give the advance a mathematical expression; it will
 decide that this advance is inversely proportional with the squares of the
 distances of all created things from the starting-point and goal of their
 creation.

    Not only is this Divine adaptation, however, mathematically accurate, but
 there is that about it which stamps it as Divine, in distinction from that
 which is merely the work of human constructiveness. I allude to the complete
 mutuality of adaptation. For example, in human constructions a particular cause
 has a particular effect; a particular intention brings to pass a particular
 object, but this is all; we see no reciprocity. The effect does not react upon
 the cause; the intention does not change relations with the object. In Divine
 constructions the object is either design or object as we choose to regard it
 -- and we may take at any time a cause for an effect, or the converse -- so
 that we can never absolutely decide which is which.

    To give an instance: -- In polar climates the human frame, to maintain its
 animal heat, requires, for combustion in the capillary system, an abundant
 supply of highly azotized food, such as train-oil. But again: -- in polar
 climates nearly the sole food afforded man is the oil of abundant seals and
 whales. Now, whether is oil at hand because imperatively demanded, or the only
 thing demanded because the only thing to be obtained? It is impossible to
 decide. There is an absolute reciprocity of adaptation.

 The pleasure which we derive from any display of human ingenuity is in the
 ratio of the approach  to this species of reciprocity. In the construction of
 plot, for example, in fictitious literature, we should aim at so arranging the
 incidents that we shall not be able to determine, of any one of them, whether
 it depends from any one other or upholds it. In this sense, of course,
 perfection of plot, is really, or practically, unattainable -- but only because
 it is a finite intelligence that constructs. The plots of God are perfect. The
 Universe is a plot of God. [page 198:]

    And now we have reached a point at which the intellect is forced, again, to
 struggle against its propensity for analogical inference -- against its
 monomaniac grasping at the infinite. Moons have been seen revolving about
 planets; planets about stars; and the poetical instinct of humanity -- its
 instinct of the symmetrical, even if the symmetry be but a symmetry of surface
 -- this instinct, which the Soul, not only of Man but of all created beings,
 took up, in the beginning, from the geometrical basis of the Universal
 radiation -- impels us to the fancy of an endless extension of this system of
 cycles. Closing our eyes equally to deduction and induction, we insist upon
 imagining a revolution of all the orbs of the Galaxy about some gigantic globe
 which we take to be the central pivot of the whole. Each cluster in the great
 cluster of clusters is imagined, of course, to be similarly supplied and
 constructed; while, that the "analogy" may be wanting at no point, we go on to
 conceive these clusters themselves, again, as revolving about some still more
 august sphere; -- this latter, still again, with its encircling clusters, as
 but one of a yet more magnificent series of agglomerations, gyrating  about yet
 another orb central to them -- some orb still more unspeakably sublime -- some
 orb, let us rather say, of infinite sublimity endlessly multiplied by the
 infinitely sublime. Such are the conditions, continued in perpetuity, which the
 voice of what some people term "analogy" calls upon the Fancy to depict and the
 Reason to contemplate, if possible, without becoming dissatisfied with the
 picture. Such, in general, are the interminable gyrations beyond gyration which
 we have been instructed by Philosophy to comprehend and to account for -- at
 least in the best manner we can. Now and then, however, a philosopher proper --
 one whose frenzy takes a very determinate turn -- whose genius, to speak more
 reverentially, has a strongly-pronounced washer-womanish bias, doing everything
 up by the dozen -- enables us to see precisely that point out of sight, at
 which the revolutionary processes in question do, and of right ought to, come
 to an end.

. . .

   But in examining other "nebulae" than that of the Milky Way -- in surveying,
 generally, the clusters which overspread the heavens -- do we or do we not find
 confirmation of Madler's hypothesis? We do not. The forms of the clusters are
 exceedingly diverse when casually viewed; but on close inspection, through
 powerful telescopes, we recognize the sphere, very distinctly, as at least the
 proximate form of all; their constitution, in general, being at variance with
 the idea of revolution about a common centre.

    "It is difficult," says Sir John Herschel, "to form any conception of the
 dynamical state of  such systems. On one hand, without a rotary motion and a
 centrifugal force, it is hardly possible not to regard them as in a state of
 progressive collapse. On the other, granting such a motion and such a force, we
 find it no less difficult to reconcile their forms with the rotation of the
 whole system [meaning cluster] around any single axis, without which internal
 collision would appear to be inevitable."

    Some remarks lately made about the "nebulae" by Dr. Nichol, in taking quite
 a different view of the cosmical conditions from any taken in this Discourse,
 have a very peculiar applicability to the point now at issue. He says: --

    "When our greatest telescopes are brought to bear upon them, we find that
 those which were thought to be irregular are not so; they approach nearer to a
 globe. Here is one that looked oval; but Lord Rosse's telescope brought it into
 a circle.... Now there occurs a very remarkable circumstance in reference to
 these comparatively sweeping circular masses of nebulae. We find they [page
 202:] are not entirely circular, but the reverse; and that all around them, on
 every side, there are volumes of stars, stretching out apparently as if they
 were rushing towards a great central mass in consequence of the action of some
 great power."

    Were I to describe, in my own words, what must necessarily be the existing
 condition of each nebula, on the hypothesis that all matter is, as I suggest,
 now returning to its original Unity, I should simply be going over, nearly
 verbatim, the language here employed by Dr. Nichol, without the faintest
 suspicion of that stupendous truth which is the key to these nebular phenomena.

    And here let me fortify my position still farther, by the voice of a greater
 than Madler; of one, moreover, to whom all the data of Madler have long been
 familiar things, carefully and thoroughly considered. Referring to the
 elaborate calculations of Argelander -- the very researches which form Madler's
 basis -- Humboldt, whose generalizing powers have never, perhaps been equalled,
 has the following observation: --

    "When we regard the real, proper, or non-perspective motions of the stars,
 we find many groups of them moving in opposite directions; and the data as yet
 in hand render it not necessary, at least, to conceive that the systems
 composing the Milky Way, or the clusters, generally, composing the Universe,
 are revolving about any particular centre unknown, whether luminous or
 non-luminous. It is but Man's longing for a fundamental First Cause, that
 impels both his intellect and fancy to the adoption of such an hypothesis."+

. . .

 The phenomenon here alluded to -- that of "many groups moving in opposite
 directions" -- is quite inexplicable by Madler's idea; but arises, as a
 necessary consequence, from that which forms the basis of this Discourse. While
 the merely general direction of each atom -- of each moon, planet, star, or
 cluster -- would, on my hypothesis, be, of course, absolutely rectilinear,
 while the general  path of all bodies would be a right line leading to the
 centre of all; it is clear, nevertheless, that this general rectilinearity
 would be compounded of what, with scarcely any exaggeration, we may term an
 infinity of particular curves -- an infinity of local deviations from
 rectilinearity -- the result of continuous differences of relative position
 among the multitudinous masses, as each proceeds on its own proper journey to
 the End.

    I quoted, just now, from Sir John Herschel, the following words, used in
 reference to the clusters: -- "On one hand, without a rotary motion and a
 centrifugal force, it is hardly possible not to regard them as in a state of
 progressive collapse." The fact is, that, in surveying the "nebulae" with a
 telescope of high power, we shall find it quite impossible, having once
 conceived this idea of "collapse," not to gather, at all points, corroboration
 of the idea. A nucleus is always apparent, in the direction of which the stars
 seem to be precipitating themselves; nor can these nuclei be mistaken for
 merely perspective phenomena; the clusters are really denser near the centre --
 sparser in the regions more remote from it. In a word, we see everything as we
 should see it were a collapse taking place; but, in general, it may be said of
 these clusters that we can fairly entertain, while looking at them, the idea of
 orbitual movement about a centre, only by admitting the possible existence, in
 the distant domains of space, of dynamical laws with which we are unacquainted.

    On the part of Herschel, however, there is evidently a reluctance to regard
 the nebulae as in "a state of progressive collapse." But if facts -- if even
 appearances justify the supposition of their being in this state, why, it may
 well be demanded, is he disinclined to admit it? Simply on account of a
 prejudice; merely because the supposition is at war with a preconceived and
 utterly baseless notion -- that of the endlessness, that of the eternal
 stability of the Universe.

 . . .

   If the propositions of this Discourse are tenable, the "state of progressive
 collapse" is precisely that state in which alone we are warranted in
 considering All Things; and, with due humility, let me here confess that, for
 my part, I am at a loss to conceive how any other  understanding of the
 existing condition of affairs could ever have made its way into the human
 brain. "The tendency to collapse" and "the attraction of gravitation" are
 convertible phrases.  In using either, we speak of the reaction of the First
 Act. Never was necessity less obvious than that of supposing Matter imbued with
 an ineradicable quality forming part of its material nature -- a quality, or
 instinct, forever inseparable from it, and by dint of which inalienable
 principle every atom is perpetually impelled to seek its fellow-atom. Never was
 necessity less obvious than that of entertaining this unphilosophical idea.
 Going boldly behind the vulgar thought, we have to conceive, metaphysically,
 that the gravitating principle appertains to Matter temporarily; only while
 diffused; only while existing as Many instead of as One; appertains to it by
 virtue of its state of radiation alone; appertains, in a word, altogether to
 its condition, and not in the slightest degree to itself. In this view, when
 the radiation shall have returned into its source -- when the reaction shall be
 completed -- the gravitating principle will no longer exist. And, in fact,
 astronomers, without at any time reaching the idea here suggested, seem to have
 been approximating it, in the assertion that "if there were but one body in the
 universe, it would be impossible to understand how the principle, Gravity,
 could obtain;" that is to say, from a consideration of Matter as they find it,
 they reach a conclusion at which I deductively arrive. That so pregnant a
 suggestion as the one quoted should have been permitted to remain so long
 unfruitful, is, nevertheless, a mystery which I find it difficult to fathom.

    It is, perhaps, in no little degree, however, our propensity for the
 continuous, for the analogical -- in the present case more particularly for the
 symmetrical -- which has been leading us astray.  And, in fact, the sense of
 the symmetrical is an instinct which may be depended on with an almost
 blindfold reliance. It is the poetical essence of the Universe -- of the
 Universe which, in the supremeness of its symmetry, is but the most sublime of
 [page 205:] poems. Now, symmetry and consistency are convertible terms; thus
 Poetry and Truth are one. A thing is consistent in the ratio of its truth, true
 in the ratio of its consistency. A perfect consistency, I repeat, can be
 nothing but a absolute truth. We may take it for granted, then, that Man cannot
 long or widely err, if he suffer himself to be guided by his poetical, which I
 have maintained to be his truthful, in being his symmetrical, instinct. He must
 have a care, however, lest, in pursuing too heedlessly the superficial symmetry
 of forms and motions, he leave out of sight the really essential symmetry of
 the principles which determine and control them.

    That the stellar bodies would finally be merged in one -- that, at last, all
 would be drawn into the substance of one stupendous central orb already
 existing -- is an idea which, for some time past, seems, vaguely and
 indeterminately, to have held possession of the fancy of mankind. It is an
 idea, in fact, which belongs to the class of the excessively obvious. It
 springs, instantly, from a superficial observation of the cyclic and seemingly
 gyrating or vorticial movements of those individual portions of the Universe
 which come most immediately and most closely under our observation. There is
 not, perhaps, a human being, of ordinary education and of average reflective
 capacity, to whom, at some period, the fancy in question has not occurred, as
 if spontaneously, or intuitively, and wearing all the character of a very
 profound and very original conception. This conception, however, so commonly
 entertained, has never, within my knowledge, arisen out of any abstract
 considerations. Being, on the contrary, always suggested, as I say, by the
 vorticial movements about centres, a reason for it, also -- a cause for the
 ingathering of all the orbs into one, imagined to be already existing -- was
 naturally sought in the same direction, among these cyclic movements
 themselves.

. . .

The facts thus demonstrated do away, of course, with all necessity for supposing
 an ether, and with all apprehension of the system's instability -- on the
 ether's account.

    It will be remembered that I have myself assumed what we may term an ether.
 I have spoken of a subtle influence which we know to be ever in attendance on
 matter, although becoming manifest only through matter's heterogeneity. To this
 influence -- without daring to touch it at all in any effort at explaining its
 awful nature -- I have referred the various phenomena of electricity, heat,
 light, magnetism; and more -- of vitality, consciousness, and thought -- in a
 word, of spirituality. It will be seen, at once, then, that the ether thus
 conceived is radically distinct from the ether of the astronomers; inasmuch as
 theirs is matter and mine not.

    With the idea of material ether, seems, thus, to have departed altogether
 the thought of that universal agglomeration so long predetermined by the
 poetical fancy of mankind; an agglomeration in which a sound Philosophy might
 have been warranted in putting faith, at least to a certain extent, if for no
 other reason than that by this poetical fancy it had been so predetermined. But
 so far as Astronomy, so far as mere Physics have yet spoken, [page 208:] the
 cycles of the Universe are perpetual -- the Universe has no conceivable end.
 Had an end been demonstrated, however, from so purely collateral a cause as an
 ether, Man's instinct of the Divine capacity to adapt would have rebelled
 against the demonstration. We should have been forced to regard the Universe
 with some such sense of dissatisfaction as we experience in contemplating an
 unnecessarily complex work of human art. Creation would have affected us as an
 imperfect plot in a romance, where the denoument is awkwardly brought about by
 interposed incidents external and foreign to the main subject; instead of
 springing out of the bosom of the thesis -- out of the heart of the ruling idea
 -- instead of arising as a result of the primary proposition, as inseparable
 and inevitable part and parcel of the fundamental conception of the book.

    What I mean by the symmetry of mere surface will now be more clearly
 understood. It is simply by the blandishment of this symmetry that we have been
 beguiled into the general idea of which Madler's hypothesis is but a part --
 the idea of the vorticial indrawing of the orbs. Dismissing this nakedly
 physical conception, the symmetry of principle sees the end of all things
 metaphysically involved in the thought of a beginning; seeks and finds, in this
 origin of all things, the rudiment of this end; and perceives the impiety of
 supposing this end likely to be brought about less simply, less directly, less
 obviously, less artistically than through the reaction of the originating Act.

    Recurring, then, to a previous suggestion, let us understand the systems --
 let us understand each star, with its attendant planets -- as but a Titanic
 atom existing in space with precisely the same inclination for Unity which
 characterized, in the beginning, the actual atoms after their radiation
 throughout the Universal sphere. As these original atoms rushed towards each
 other in generally straight lines, so let us conceive as at least generally
 rectilinear the paths of the system-atoms towards their respective centres of
 aggregation; and in this direct drawing together of the systems into clusters,
 with a similar and simultaneous drawing together of the clusters themselves
 while undergoing consolidation, we have at length attained the great Now -- the
 awful Present -- the Existing Condition of the Universe.

    Of the still more awful Future a not irrational analogy may [page 209:]
 guide us in framing an hypothesis. The equilibrium between the centripetal and
 centrifugal forces of each system, being necessarily destroyed on attainment of
 a certain proximity to the nucleus of the cluster to which it belongs, there
 must occur, at once, a chaotic or seemingly chaotic precipitation, of the moons
 upon the planets, of the planets upon the suns, and of the suns upon the
 nuclei; and the general result of this precipitation must be the gathering of
 the myriad now-existing stars of the firmament into an almost infinitely less
 number of almost infinitely superior spheres. In being immeasurably fewer, the
 worlds of that day will be immeasurably greater than our own. Then, indeed,
 amid unfathomable abysses, will be glaring unimaginable suns. But all this will
 be merely a climacic magnificence foreboding the great End. Of this End the new
 genesis described can be but a very partial postponement. While undergoing
 consolidation, the clusters themselves, with a speed prodigiously accumulative,
 have been rushing towards their own general centre -- and now, with a
 millionfold electric velocity, commensurate only with their material grandeur
 and with their spiritual passion for oneness, the majestic remnants of the
 tribe of Stars flash, at length, into a common embrace. The inevitable
 catastrophe is at hand.

    But this catastrophe -- what is it? We have seen accomplished the
 ingathering of the orbs. Henceforward, are we not to understand one material
 globe of globes as comprehending and constituting the Universe? Such a fancy
 would be altogether at war with every assumption and consideration of this
 Discourse.

    I have already alluded to that absolute reciprocity of adaptation which is
 the idiosyncrasy of the Divine Art -- stamping it divine. Up to this point of
 our reflections, we have been regarding the electrical influence as a something
 by dint of whose repulsion alone Matter is enabled to exist in that state of
 diffusion demanded for the fulfilment of its purposes; so far, in a word, we
 have been considering the influence in question as ordained for Matter's sake
 -- to subserve the objects of matter. With a perfectly legitimate reciprocity,
 we are now permitted to look at Matter, as created solely for the sake of this
 influence -- solely to serve the objects of this spiritual Ether. Through the
 aid -- by the means -- through [page 210:] the agency, of Matter, and by dint
 of its heterogeneity, is this Ether manifested -- is Spirit individualized. It
 is merely in the development of this Ether, through heterogeneity, that
 particular masses of Matter become animate -- sensitive -- and in the ratio of
 their heterogeneity; some reaching a degree of sensitiveness involving what we
 call Thought, and thus attaining obviously Conscious Intelligence.

    In this view, we are enabled to perceive Matter as a Means, not as an End.
 Its purposes are thus seen to have been comprehended in its diffusion; and with
 the return into Unity these purposes cease. The absolutely consolidated globe
 of globes would be objectless; therefore not for a moment could it continue to
 exist. Matter, created for an end, would unquestionably, on fulfilment of that
 end, be Matter no longer. Let us endeavor to understand that it would
 disappear, and that God would remain all in all.

    That every work of Divine conception must coexist and coexpire with its
 particular design, seems to me especially obvious; and I make no doubt that, on
 perceiving the final globe of globes to be objectless, the majority of my
 readers will be satisfied with my "therefore it cannot continue to exist."
 Nevertheless, as the startling thought of its instantaneous disappearance is
 one which the most powerful intellect cannot be expected readily to entertain
 on grounds so decidedly abstract, let us endeavor to look at the idea from some
 other and more ordinary point of view; let us see how thoroughly and
 beautifully it is corroborated in an a posteriori consideration of Matter as we
 actually find it.

    I have before said that "Attraction and Repulsion being undeniably the sole
 properties by which Matter is manifested to Mind, we are justified in assuming
 that Matter exists only as Attraction and Repulsion; in other words, that
 Attraction and Repulsion are Matter; there being no conceivable case in which
 we may not employ the term 'Matter' and the terms 'Attraction' and 'Repulsion'
 taken together, as equivalent, and therefore convertible, expressions of
 Logic."*

* Page 138. [This footnote appears at the bottom of page 210.]


    Now the very definition of Attraction implies particularity -- [page 211:]
 the existence of parts, particles, or atoms; for we define it as the tendency
 of "each atom, etc., to every other atom," etc., according to a certain law. Of
 course where there are no parts, where there is absolute Unity, where the
 tendency to oneness is satisfied, there can be no Attraction; -- this has been
 fully shown, and all Philosophy admits it. When, on fulfilment of its purposes,
 then, Matter shall have returned into its original condition of One -- a
 condition which presupposes the expulsion of the separative Ether, whose
 province and whose capacity are limited to keeping the atoms apart until that
 great day when, this Ether being no longer needed, the overwhelming pressure of
 the finally collective Attraction shall at length just sufficiently
 predominate* and expel it -- when, I say, Matter, finally, expelling the Ether,
 shall have returned into absolute Unity, it will then (to speak paradoxically
 for the moment) be Matter without Attraction and without Repulsion -- in other
 words, Matter without Matter -- in other words, again, Matter no more. In
 sinking into Unity it will sink at once into that Nothingness which, to all
 finite perception, Unity must be, into that Material Nihility from which alone
 we can conceive it to have been evoked, to have been created, by the Volition
 of God.

 * "Gravity, therefore, must be the strongest of forces." -- See page 140.
 [[This footnote appears at the bottom of page 211.]]


    I repeat, then -- Let us endeavor to comprehend that the final globe of
 globes will instantaneously disappear, and that God will remain all in all.

    But are we here to pause? Not so. On the Universal agglomeration and
 dissolution, we can readily conceive that a new and perhaps totally different
 series of conditions may ensue; another creation and radiation, returning into
 itself; another action and reaction of the Divine Will. Guiding our
 imaginations by that omniprevalent law of laws, the law of periodicity, are we
 not, indeed, more than justified in entertaining a belief -- let us say,
 rather, in indulging a hope -- that the processes we have here ventured to
 contemplate will be renewed forever, and forever, and forever; a novel Universe
 swelling into existence, and then subsiding into nothingness, at every throb of
 the Heart Divine?

    And now -- this Heart Divine -- what is it? It is our own. [page 212:]

    Let not the merely seeming irreverence of this idea frighten our souls from
 that cool exercise of consciousness, from that deep tranquillity of
 self-inspection, through which alone we can hope to attain the presence of
 this, the most sublime of truths, and look it leisurely in the face.

    The phenomena  on which our conclusions must at this point depend are merely
 spiritual shadows, but not the less thoroughly substantial.

    We walk about, amid the destinies of our world-existence, encompassed by dim
 but ever present Memories of a Destiny more vast -- very distant in the bygone
 time, and infinitely awful.

    We live out a Youth peculiarly haunted by such shadows; yet never mistaking
 them for dreams. As Memories we know them. During our Youth the distinction is
 too clear to deceive us even for a moment.

    So long as this Youth endures, the feeling that we exist is the most natural
 of all feelings. We understand it thoroughly. That there was a period at which
 we did not exist -- or, that it might so have happened that we never had
 existed at all -- are the considerations, indeed, which, during this Youth, we
 find difficulty in understanding. Why we should not exist, is, up to the epoch
 of Manhood, of all queries the most unanswerable.

    Existence -- self-existence -- existence from all Time and to all Eternity
 -- seems, up to the epoch of Manhood, a normal and unquestionable condition;
 seems, because it is.

    But now comes the period at which a conventional World-Reason awakens us
 from the truth of our dream. Doubt, Surprise, and Incomprehensibility arrive at
 the same moment. They say: -- "You live, and the time was when you lived not.
 You have been created. An Intelligence exists greater than your own; and it is
 only through this Intelligence you live at all." These things we struggle to
 comprehend and cannot; -- cannot, because these things, being untrue, are thus,
 of necessity, incomprehensible.

    No thinking being lives who, at some luminous point of his life of thought,
 has not felt himself lost amid the surges of futile efforts at understanding or
 believing that anything exists greater than his own soul. The utter
 impossibility of any one's soul feeling [page 213:] itself inferior to another;
 the intense, overwhelming dissatisfaction and rebellion at the thought; these,
 with the omniprevalent aspirations at perfection, are but the spiritual,
 coincident with the material, struggles towards the original Unity; are, to my
 mind at least, a species of proof far surpassing what Man terms demonstration,
 that no one soul is inferior to another; that nothing is, or can be, superior
 to any one soul; that each soul is, in part, its own God -- its own Creator; --
 in a word, that God -- the material and spiritual God -- now  exists solely in
 the diffused Matter and Spirit of the Universe; and that the regathering of
 this diffused Matter and Spirit will be but the re-constitution of the purely
 Spiritual and Individual God.

    In this view, and in this view alone, we comprehend the riddles of Divine
 Injustice -- of Inexorable Fate. In this view alone the existence of Evil
 becomes intelligible; but in this view it becomes more -- it becomes endurable.
 Our souls no longer rebel at a Sorrow which we ourselves have imposed upon
 ourselves, in furtherance of our own purposes -- with a view, if even with a
 futile view -- to the extension of our own Joy.

    I have spoken of Memories that haunt us during our Youth. They sometimes
 pursue us even into our Manhood; assume gradually less and less indefinite
 shapes; now and then speak to us with low voices, saying:

    "There was an epoch in the Night of Time, when a still-existent Being
 existed -- one of an absolutely infinite number of similar Beings that people
 the absolutely infinite domains of the absolutely infinite space.* It was not
 and is not in the power of this Being, any more than it is in your own, to
 extend, by actual increase, the joy of His Existence; but just as it is in your
 power to expand or to concentrate your pleasures (the absolute amount of
 happiness remaining always the same), so did and does a similar capability
 appertain to this Divine Being, who thus passes his Eternity in perpetual
 variation of Concentrated Self and almost Infinite Self-Diffusion. What you
 call the Universe is but his present expansive existence. He now feels his life
 through an infinity [page 214:] of imperfect pleasures; the partial and
 pain-intertangled pleasures of those inconceivably numerous things which you
 designate as His creatures, but which are really but infinite
 individualizations of Himself. All these creatures -- all -- those which you
 term animate, as well as those to which you deny life for no better reason than
 that you do not behold it in operation -- all these creatures have, in a
 greater or less degree, a capacity for pleasure and for pain; but the general
 sum of their sensations is precisely that amount of Happiness which appertains
 by right to the Divine Being when concentrated within Himself. These creatures
 are all, too, more or less conscious Intelligences; conscious, first, of a
 proper identity; conscious, secondly, and by faint indeterminate glimpses, of
 an identity with the Divine Being of whom we speak -- of an identity with God.
 Of the two classes of consciousness, fancy that the former will grow weaker,
 the latter stronger, during the long succession of ages which must elapse
 before these myriads of individual Intelligences become blended -- when the
 bright stars become blended -- into One. Think that the sense of individual
 identity will be gradually merged in the general consciousness; that Man, for
 example, ceasing imperceptibly to feel himself Man, will at length attain that
 awfully triumphant epoch when he shall recognize his existence as that of
 Jehovah. In the meantime bear in mind that all is Life -- Life -- Life within
 Life -- the less within the greater, and all within the Spirit Divine.

    * See pages 185-186 -- Paragraph commencing "I reply that the'right," and
 ending "proper and particular God."