space was the Earth, on account of a single inhabitant--Man. Its
shape had been moulded, its surface fitted up, as the dwelling-
place of Man. Land, ocean, mountain-range, desert, valley--these
were designed alike for Man. The sun--it was for him; and the moon;
and the stars, hung about the earth as its lights--guides to the
mariner, reminders to the landsman of the Eye that never slumbered.
The clouds--shade and shower--they were mercifully for Man.
Nothing had meaning, possessed value, save as it derived meaning
and value from him. The great laws of Nature--they, too, were
ordered for Man's service, like the ox and the ass; and as he drove
his ox and his ass whither he would, caused them to move forward or
to stop at the word of command, so Man had only to speak properly
(in prayer) and these laws would move faster or less fast, stop
still, turn to the right or the left side of the road that he
desired to travel. Always Man, Man, Man, nothing but Man! To
himself measure of the universe as to himself a little boy is sole
reason for the food and furnishings of his nursery.

This conception of Man's place in Nature has perhaps furnished a
very large part of the history of the world. Even at this close of
the nineteenth century, it is still, in all probability, the most
important fact in the faith and conduct of the race, running with
endless applications throughout the spheres of practical life and
vibrating away to the extremities of the imagination. In the case
of this poor, devout, high-minded Kentucky boy, at work on a farm
in the years 1866 and 1867, saving his earnings and reading his
Bible as the twofold preparation for his entrance into the
Christian ministry, this belief took on one of its purest shapes
and wrought out in him some of its loftiest results.