The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1871-07-25
For The Register.
Mvstprias.

Man is Graded in the midst of myster.
les. He is surrounded on every side by
strange phenomena which battle his skill
and fill his soul with wonder. As he
looks out upon the world around he be-
holds it garnished with countless objects
of elegance, but he knows nothing Of the
inherent qualities which render these
objects beautiful.
The tiniest flower that lifts its head to
greet the sun has within it world Of
mystery which he is unable to fathom.
In single drop of water there are
millions Of insects so small that thousands
of them could swarm side by side through
the eye of a common needle and yet their
bodies are as complicated and symmetri-
cal as our own. There are also myriads
of animalcules sporting in the sunbeam,
which, when viewed with the aid of the
microscope, appear as beautiful as any
of the larger animals of creation.
The light of the sun is beautiful to
behold, it causes the earth to bring forth
fruit to feed the appetite of man, and
flowers to strew his pathway, it comes to
him with inconceivable velocity, it exc.
cutes costly embellishments in the shop
of the arti6cer, but when he attempts to
find from whence it came, or what it is,
it battles all his skill, 1t leaves him lost
in thought, and ne is compelled to say
like JOB of old F.; "Where is the place
where light dwelleth, and as for darkness,
where is the place thereof?"
The fire, that warns and lights our
dwellings and ministers to us in countless
ways, seems simple indeed as we look
upon it, but what secret world is with
in it 1t is form without substance and
shape without conference. 1t is kindled
with a spark and annihilated with q
breath. Invulnerable itself, it consumes
whatever it approaches If man lays
his hand upon it, it eludcs his grasp but
stings him with its fatal dart.
The ancicnts looked upon the lightning
with terror and awe and considered it the
wrath of the avenging Jove. Now it is
true it has been subdued and made the
servant OF man, the philosopher manufac-
lures it by the aid of simple machinery
and plays with it as a favorite pet, but
what it is and what is its nature, no NOR
tai mind has ever found and doubtless
never will.
The ingenious mind of man has devised
instruments by which we can view the
shining orbs above with scrutinizing gaze
and behold them revolve in harmony in
their appointed sphere, but who inhabit
those distant worlds is all mystery to
u.s. We call the power that holds them
in their places and guides their circling
ways attraction, yet when we strive to
find it out it mocks our vain research
1t dwells within our bodies, pervades all
matter and holds the universe in poisc,
but the eye of man hath never seen it, no
crucible can extract it from the furnace
no microscope detect it in the depths, no
telescope survey it in the nights of ma
tu,a
Man is a mystery to himself.
He is composed of body, mind and
spirit, yet of the connection between
these essences that form himself he has
as little knowledge as the brute that
walks the earth with downward gaze.
If disease lay its palsying touch upon
the body, the mind becomes enfeebled
too, or if the mind become disorlered and
cease to fulfill its Office the body feels the
fatal stroke and attres itself in the habil.
iments Of woe.
The body dies and moulders back to
dust but the spirit sewers the hidden tie
that binds it to perishing tenement and
wings its mysterious flight 10 Him who
gave it.