CHAPTER VII. 



THE MYSTERY OF NIGHT. 



EVERY day two worlds lie at my door and invite 

 me into mysteries as far apart as darkness and 

 light. These two realms have nothing in common 

 save a certain identity of form ; color, relation, dis 

 tance, are lost or utterly changed. In the vast 

 fields of heaven a still more complete and sublime 

 transformation is wrought. It is a new hemisphere 

 which hangs above me, with countless fires light 

 ing the awful highways of the universe, and guid 

 ing the daring and reverent thought as it falters in 

 the highest empyrean. The mind that has come 

 into fellowship with Nature is subtly moved and 

 penetrated by the decline of light and the oncom 

 ing of darkness. As the sun is replaced by the 

 stars, so is the hot, restless, eager spirit of the day 

 replaced by the infinite calm and peace of the 

 night. The change does not come abruptly or 

 with the suddenness of violent movement ; no dial 

 is delicate enough to register the moment when 

 day gives place to night. With that amplitude of 

 power which accompanies every movement, with 

 that sublime quietude of energy which pervades 

 every action, Nature calls the day across the hills 

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