The Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Volume 2


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possible amount of matter;--while the surfaces themselves are  
so disposed as to accommodate a denser population than could be  
accommodated on the same surfaces otherwise arranged. Nor is it any  
argument against bulk being an object with God, that space itself is  
infinite; for there may be an infinity of matter to fill it. And  
since we see clearly that the endowment of matter with vitality is a  
principle--indeed, as far as our judgments extend, the leading principle  
in the operations of Deity,--it is scarcely logical to imagine it  
confined to the regions of the minute, where we daily trace it, and not  
extending to those of the august. As we find cycle within cycle without  
end,--yet all revolving around one far-distant centre which is the  
God-head, may we not analogically suppose in the same manner, life  
within life, the less within the greater, and all within the Spirit  
Divine? In short, we are madly erring, through self-esteem, in believing  
man, in either his temporal or future destinies, to be of more moment  
in the universe than that vast "clod of the valley" which he tills and  
contemns, and to which he denies a soul for no more profound reason than  
that he does not behold it in operation. (*2)  
These fancies, and such as these, have always given to my meditations  
among the mountains and the forests, by the rivers and the ocean, a  
tinge of what the everyday world would not fail to term fantastic. My  
wanderings amid such scenes have been many, and far-searching, and often  
solitary; and the interest with which I have strayed through many a dim,  
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