From such conclusions the mind
instinctively shrinks. It prefers to think that there is something
beyond, though we cannot see it. Even the universe could not bear to
be alone -- a Crusoe lost in the Cosmos! As the inhabitants of the
most elegant ch?teau, with its gardens, parks, and crowds of
attendants, would die of loneliness if they did not know that they
have neighbors, though not seen, and that a living world of indefinite
extent surrounds them, so we, when we perceive that the universe has
limits, wish to feel that it is not solitary; that beyond the hedges
and the hills there are other centers of life and activity. Could
anything be more terrible than the thought of an isolated universe?
The greater the being, the greater the aversion to seclusion. Only the
infinite satisfies; in that alone the mind finds rest.
We are driven, then, to believe that the universal night which
envelopes us is not tenantless; that as we stare out of the
star-framed windows of the Galaxy and see nothing but uniform
blackness, the fault is with our eyes or is due to an obscuring
medium. Since our universe is limited in extent, there must be other
universes beyond it on all sides. Perhaps if we could carry our
telescopes to the verge of the great ``Coal-sack'' near the ``Cross,''
being then on the frontier of our starry system, we could discern,
sparkling afar off in the vast night, some of the outer galaxies.
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