Look at the romance of geology; at the romance of astronomy; at the
romance of chemistry; at the romance of the telescope, and the
microscope, and the prism. More wonderful than all, consider the
story of how flying atoms in space became suns, how suns made
planets, how planets changed from spheres of flame and raging
fiery storm to worlds of land and water. How in the water specks
of jelly became fishes, fishes reptiles, reptiles mammals, mammals
monkeys; monkeys men; until, from the fanged and taloned cannibal,
roosting in a forest, have developed art and music, religion and
science; and the children of the jellyfish can weigh the suns,
measure the stellar spaces, ride on the ocean or in the air, and
speak to each other from continent to continent.

Talk about fairy tales! what is this? You may look through a
telescope, and see the nebula that is to make a sun floating,
like a luminous mist, three hundred million miles away. You
may look again, and see another sun in process of formation.
You may look again, and see others almost completed. You may
look again and again, and see millions of suns and systems
spread out across the heavens like rivers of living gems.

You will say that all this speaks of a Creator. I shall not
contradict you. But what kind of Creator must He be who has
created such a universe as this?

Do you think He is the kind of Creator to make blunders and
commit crimes? Can you, after once thinking of the Milky Way,
with its rivers of suns, and the drop of water teeming with
spangled dragons, and the awful abysses of dark space, through