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Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 1809-1894

"The Poet at the Breakfast-Table"


When I was a little girl I used to write out a line of Young's as a copy
in my writing-book,
"An undevout astronomer is mad";
but I do not now feel quite so sure that the contemplation of all the
multitude of remote worlds does not tend to weaken the idea of a personal
Deity. It is not so much that nebular theory which worries me, when I
think about this subject, as a kind of bewilderment when I try to
conceive of a consciousness filling all those frightful blanks of space
they talk about. I sometimes doubt whether that young man worships
anything but the stars. They tell me that many young students of science
like him never see the inside of a church. I cannot help wishing they
did. It humanizes people, quite apart from any higher influence it
exerts upon them. One reason, perhaps, why they do not care to go to
places of worship is that they are liable to hear the questions they know
something about handled in sermons by those who know very much less about
them. And so they lose a great deal. Almost every human being, however
vague his notions of the Power addressed, is capable of being lifted and
solemnized by the exercise of public prayer. When I was a young girl we
travelled in Europe, and I visited Ferney with my parents; and I remember
we all stopped before a chapel, and I read upon its front, I knew Latin
enough to understand it, I am pleased to say,--Deo erexit Voltaire.


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