of space a universe which no stretch of the imagination could give him a glimpse of without it, it opens up to him also a no less wonderful universe in regions which, by reason of their littleness, lie equally beyond his powers of observation or the powers of his imagination.
It reveals to him the presence of life in forms as wonderful for their minuteness and activity and numbers as the sun and stars are for the mighty spaces they occupy and traverse.
This little device, then, of a piece of glass formed with curved surfaces, which a boy may fashion upon a piece of sandstone, not only enters into the daily use of man, ministering to his comfort and prolonging his power to work efficiently, but in no figurative sense it enables him to behold a new heaven and a new earth. It opens to him the most wonderful secrets of nature, and gives him new conceptions of the vastness of the universe and of the magnitude of the forces involved in its mechanism. The ancients believed that the sun was only a few miles away, a few thousand miles at most, but the telescope has enabled man to learn that the sun is 92,000,000 miles away from us; that the earth, 8,000 miles in diameter, in his yearly journey around it, travels 600,000,000 miles, at the rate of nearly twenty miles a second.
What conception of infinite power could the imagination, unaided, give to man, which could in the least approach that which is involved in this movement of the earth!
But we know through the telescope, that this power, mighty as it is, is but an infinitesimal part of that which is actually displayed in the regions of space which only within recent years and by the aid of a multitude of inventions have been opened to the observation of man.
Upon glass and the lens man is dependent for the use of another recent invention, which now that we have it we would not willingly do without.
A beautiful art has come into existence since I was a young man, which gratifies one of the strongest desires of the heart and ministers to the social pleasures of every family and circle of friends. I well remember when the newspaper first announced that a Frenchman had invented a way of taking pictures by the help of the sun. Before that time very few people could have likenesses of their friends, living or dead. The face of a friend could only be seen when he was present. When absent, memory must do what it could to preserve the features. Only the rich, and not a large proportion of them, could command portraits of themselves or friends. Into what houses will you now go where you do not expect to find likenesses of whole families, and whole circles of friends? Very poor indeed are those who can not and do not find the means of procuring and preserving pictures of those they love. Can any one measure the amount of gratification which the world has received from the practice of the wonderful art of taking pictures from nature, through the agency of a few chemicals spread upon a sheet of paper or of silver, and of the rays of light
