"And the evening and morning were the first day."

At early morning, Gellert was sitting at his table, and reading
according to his invariable custom, first of all in the Bible. He never
left the Bible open--he always shut it with a peaceful, devotional air,
after he had read therein: there was something grateful as well as
reverential in his manner of closing the volume; the holy words should
not lie uncovered.

To-day, however, the Bible was lying open when he rose. His eye fell
upon the history of the creation, and at the words, "And the evening and
the morning were the first day," he leaned back his head against the
arm-chair, and kept his hand upon the book, as though he would grasp
with his hand also the lofty thought, how night and day were divided.

For a long while he sat thus, and he was wondrously bright in spirit,
and a soft reminiscence dawned upon him; of a bright day in childhood,
when he had been so happy, and in Haynichen, his native place, had gone
out with his father for a walk. An inward warmth roused his heart to
quicker pulsation; and suddenly he started and looked about him: he had
been humming a tune.

Up from the street came the busy sound of Jay: at other times how
insufferable he had found it! and now how joyous it seemed that men
should bestir themselves, and turn to all sorts of occupations! There
was a sound of crumbling snow: and how nice to have a house and a blaze
upon the hearth! "And the evening and the morning were the first day!"
And man getteth himself a light in the darkness: but how long, O man!
could you make it endure? What could you do with your artificial light,