With the unaided eye there is ordinarily within the range of our vision some five or six thousand of these "fixed stars." With the aid of the telescope, however, there is brought within the range of man's vision between forty and fifty millions of fixed stars; with the probability existing that all these, as well as those fixed stars of sufficient magnitude to be within the range of our unaided vision, are, like our own sun, the centers of groups of opaque planets, which, because they are opaque, cannot be seen by us. But this is but the beginning of the story of the universe. Immense as are the numbers of "fixed stars" to which I have called attention, and their distances so great that in some cases it would take a ray of light a million years to reach us from them, though light moves through space at such speed that it will travel some eight times around the earth in a single second—immense, I say, as are these numbers of "fixed stars" revealed to man by the telescope, they are after all but as the first "street lamps" of God's great universe—but a few of the motes in God's sunbeam. Let me explain. You have seen a ray of sunlight dart into a room through the half drawn curtains, and have observed that it reveals the existence of innumerable motes floating about in the sunbeam. You know that if the sunbeam should shift into another part of the room it will reveal the existence of motes in that part of the room also—millions of them. So you know that the atmosphere in the whole room is filled with such motes; that the atmosphere in every room in your house is in the same condition—that is, filled with motes; so all the rooms in all the houses of your friends, or in the city; so also the whole circumambient air of the whole earth. Well, what man has discovered in space pertaining to the existence of "fixed stars"—great, selfluminous bodies, unquestionably the centers of planetary systems the same as our sun is—all this, I say, is but as the sunbeam revealing the existence of a few of the motes that exist in some little corner of a room: for out on the farthest edge of space explored by man's vision aided by the most powerful helps he can devise, man in contemplation can stand and conceive of still greater stretches of space filled by still more numerous suns, the centers of planetary systems, than has yet come within the range of his vision. And standing thus in the midst of the universe, he begins to comprehend that great truth uttered by Joseph Smith when he contemplated the creations of the Gods: "There is no space where there is no kingdom [created world], and there is no kingdom where there is no space, either a greater or a lesser space."[A] But this is beside the subject.
[Footnote A: Doc. & Cov. sec. 88:36,37.]
What I want you to do is to think how small and insignificant this earth of ours is, even in comparison with some of the planets of our own system, some of which are hundreds of times larger than our earth.[A] And then the sun, the center of the system, itself—what a speck it is in the universe! Though outweighing the combined mass of all the planets of which he is the center seven hundred and thirty times over, still he is but a point in the universe! To quote the words of an eminent author:
[Footnote A: The planet Jupiter, for example, has a diameter of about 85,000 miles, while the earth's diameter is but about 8,000 miles. In volume Jupiter exceeds our earth about 1,300 times, while in mass it exceeds it 213 times. (See "Newcomb's Astronomy," p. 339.)]
As there are other globes like our earth, so, too, there are other worlds like our solar system. There are self-luminous suns exceeding in number all computation. The dimensions of this earth pass into nothingness in comparison with the dimensions of the solar system, and that system, in its turn, is only an invisible point if placed in relation with the countless hosts of other systems which form, with it, clusters of stars. Our solar system, far from being alone in the universe, is only one of an extensive brotherhood, bound by common laws and subject to like influences. Even on the very verge of creation, where imagination might lay the beginning of the realms of chaos, we see unbounded proofs of order, a regularity in the arrangement of inanimate things, suggesting to us that there are other intellectual creatures like us, the tenants of those islands in the abysses of space. Though it may take a beam of light a million of years to bring to our view those distant worlds, the end is not yet. Far away in the depths of space we catch the faint gleams of other groups of stars like our own. The finger of a man can hide them in their remoteness. Their vast distances from one another have dwindled into nothing. They and their movements have lost all individuality; the innumerable suns of which they are composed blend all their collected lights into one pale milky glow.
Thus extending our view from the earth to the solar system, from the solar system to the expanse of the group of stars to which we belong, we behold a series of gigantic nebular creations rising up one above another, and forming greater and greater colonies of worlds. No numbers can express them, for they make the firmament a haze of stars. Uniformity, even though it be the uniformity of magnificence, tires at last, and we abandon the survey, for our eyes can only behold a boundless prospect and conscience tells us our own unspeakable insignificance.[A]
[Footnote A: Draper's "Intellectual Development of Europe," vol. 2, p. 292.]
And the earth itself, then, what of that? What an insignificant thing it is in the creations of God! With all its islands and continents, its rivers, lakes and mighty oceans; its mountains and its valleys; its towns, cities and all the tribes of men, together with all their hopes and fears and petty ambitions—all is but a mote in God's sunbeam—less than a single grain of sand on the sea shore!
What I want to ask in the light of these reflections is this: Is it such a wonderful thing to believe that at the last, one of God's sons shall preside over this little earth as the God-president or God of it? That our Father Adam, the "Grand Patriarch" of our race—the "Ancient of Days"—"Michael, the Archangel"—give him what title you will out of the many which are his—is it so hard to believe that he will eventually attain to the dignity of the governorship of this earth, when it is redeemed and sanctified and becomes one of the glorified spheres of God?
Some of the sectarian ministers are saying that we "Mormons" are ashamed of the doctrine announced by President Brigham Young to the effect that Adam will thus be the God of this world. No, friends, it is not that we are ashamed of that doctrine. If you see any change come over our countenances when this doctrine is named, it is surprise, astonishment, that any one at all capable of grasping the largeness and extent of the universe—the grandeur of existence and the possibilities in man for growth, for progress, should be so lean of intellect, should have such a paucity of understanding, as to call it in question at all. That is what our change of countenance means—not shame for the doctrine Brigham Young taught.
I feel that I must have wearied you with so long a discourse; I know very well I have wearied myself; and yet I am loth to quit this splendid field for thought. The subject, and our conception of it, must ever be grander than it is within our ability to express. It is beyond our power to grasp it and make it plain in words, I can see in this "Mormon" doctrine of God the highest spirituality that the mind of man is capable of grasping. If our sectarian friends think, that in us there is any drifting away from the teachings of our prophets upon this subject, any shadow of turning, and that we of modern days are growing more spiritual than were they, it is not that we are changing, or leaving the old moorings of our faith; but it is because they themselves are giving a little more careful attention to our doctrines, and begin to catch their first sight of the grand spirituality which all the while has pervaded our belief in the Gods and their government, and the heights of glory to which men—the offspring of the Gods—may finally attain.