Cosmic Language. 



Up to the present we have been regarding the starry 

 heavens as a world of animal organisms. The chief phe- 

 nomenal symptom of an animal existence is the presence 

 of organs ; the organs of breath, nourishment, movement 

 and those by which expression is given to the wants 

 and feelings. These two last-named organic symptoms 

 constitute, so to speak, the language of an organism, 

 and present different forms of utterance in the case of 

 every different species of animal. The bird sings ; the 

 serpent hisses; man speaks; several forms of infusoria 

 simply shine. Of the organs of movement nourishmen 

 and inspiration I have already spoken; I propose now 

 to dwell a little on the language of the stars as the 

 organ of cosmic will. 



The language of the stars is their light. As the fish 

 are voiceless so also are the spheres. This, too, is in 

 the nature of things, for what voice could carry across 

 the illimitable expanse of sky. Sound only becomes 

 audible through atmospheric waves, and we know that 

 beyond the limits of our planetary air no such firm li- 

 quid medium for the conveyance of sound exists. Beyond 

 these limits exist two tides ; one the common cosmic tide 

 swimming against which the planetary world meets and 

 obsorbs all that amorphous matter we have spoken of 

 as cloud-masses, cloud-spots, comets and aerolites, borne 

 along upon it ; the other the reactionary flood of oxo- 

 hydrogen and radiant heat, which latter I shall hence- 

 forth call cosmic heat. This double flow between the 

 planets and their sun, would catch and carry off upon 



