John Anderson

Summary

John Anderson The course of creation (1851)

We are reminded, among the mountains, of one of the first and loveliest of all material things, the creation of light. Loving them for their own sakes, as well as for the legends of the old world with which they are everywhere inscribed, the geologist takes to the hills with the first faint fresh streak of dawn. Emerging with earliest day from the somber shades of the forest which, like night, invests the prospects with its own sadness and gloom, speedily a scene of joy and activity bursts upon the sight. The light comes upon you like a real tangible thing.
Source: Gutenberg

John Anderson The course of creation (1851)

The soul is filled with the idea of immensity, as it familiarizes itself to the thought of the highest mountains of the earth being but specks on its surface—the terraqueous globe as an atom compared with the sun—the sun itself dwindling to a star from some point in the distant fields of space—and even all the systems that sparkle in the clearest sky only as faint streaks of light, or not discernible even for millions of years after their creation, in the systems that replenish and shine in the still remoter void.
Source: Gutenberg

John Anderson The course of creation (1851)

Impossible, indeed, it ever will be, for the human mind to embrace or unravel all the mysteries of creation; but thus admitted to the mighty wonders of the interior, we are almost enabled to trace the history of the moving atoms from their chaotic disorder into their places and arrangement in the visible universe—to see dead matter assuming the forms of life and organization—clothing the earth for a season with luxuriance and beauty—buried for ages under the solid rock—and again, out of coldness and death, affording light, and warmth, and power to the successive generations of men.
Source: Gutenberg

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