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Autobiography of a Pocket-Handkerchief by James Fenimore Cooper
page 7 of 192 (03%)

{epochas = archaic Latinized spelling of epochs}

Some of the happiest moments of my moral existence were thus
obtained, while our family was growing in the fields of Normandy. It
happened that a distinguished astronomer selected a beautiful seat, that
was placed on the very margin of our position, as a favorite spot for his
observations and discourses; from a recollection of the latter of which,
in particular, I still derive indescribable satisfaction. It seems as only
yesterday--it is in fact fourteen long, long years--that I heard him thus
holding forth to his pupils, explaining the marvels of the illimitable void,
and rendering clear to my understanding the vast distance that exists
between the Being that created all things and the works of his hands. To
those who live in the narrow circle of human interests and human
feelings, there ever exists, unheeded, almost unnoticed, before their very
eyes, the most humbling proofs of their own comparative insignificance
in the scale of creation, which, in the midst of their admitted mastery
over the earth and all it contains, it would be well for them to consider,
if they would obtain just views of what they are and what they were
intended to be.

I think I can still hear this learned and devout man--for his soul was
filled with devotion to the dread Being that could hold a universe in
subjection to His will--dwelling with delight on all the discoveries among
the heavenly bodies, that the recent improvements in science and
mechanics have enabled the astronomers to make. Fortunately, he gave
his discourses somewhat of the progressive character of lectures,
leading his listeners on, as it might be step by step, in a way to render all
easy to the commonest understanding. Thus it was, I first got accurate
notions of the almost inconceivable magnitude of space, to which,
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