{"id":"01KG8AKRWT31D272T9G3TAGHH5","cid":"bafkreif33ofvfbtpsqynylaey6j7cx3wnzvarwuvsvbr6fap5orkwbxx2e","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":9987,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:09.931Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","start_line":9919,"text":"Now, _now_, the page is out-spread: to the simple, easy as a primer; to\r\nthe wise, more puzzling than hieroglyphics. The eternity to come, is\r\nbut a prolongation of time present: and the beginning may be more\r\nwonderful than the end.\r\n\r\n“‘Then let us be wise. But much of the knowledge we seek, already we\r\nhave in our cores. Yet so simple it is, we despise it; so bold, we fear\r\nit.\r\n\r\n“‘In solitude, let us exhume our ingots. Let us hear our own thoughts.\r\nThe soul needs no mentor, but Oro; and Oro, without proxy. Wanting Him,\r\nit is both the teacher and the taught. Undeniably, reason was the first\r\nrevelation; and so far as it tests all others, it has precedence over\r\nthem. It comes direct to us, without suppression or interpolation; and\r\nwith Oro’s indisputable imprimatur. But inspiration though it be, it is\r\nnot so arrogant as some think. Nay, far too humble, at times it submits\r\nto the grossest indignities. Though in its best estate, not infallible;\r\nso far as it goes, for us, it is reliable. When at fault, it stands\r\nstill. We speak not of visionaries. But if this our first revelation\r\nstops short of the uttermost, so with all others. If, often, it only\r\nperplexes: much more the rest. They leave much unexpounded; and\r\ndisclosing new mysteries, add to the enigma. Fellow-men; the ocean we\r\nwould sound is unfathomable; and however much we add to our line, when\r\nit is out, we feel not the bottom. Let us be truly lowly, then; not\r\nlifted up with a Pharisaic humility. We crawl not like worms; nor wear\r\nwe the liveries of angels.\r\n\r\n“‘The firmament-arch has no key-stone; least of all, is man its prop.\r\nHe stands alone. We are every thing to ourselves, but how little to\r\nothers. What are others to us? Assure life everlasting to this\r\ngeneration, and their immediate forefathers—and what tears would flow,\r\nwere there no resurrection for the countless generations from the first\r\nman to five cycles since? And soon we ourselves shall have fallen in\r\nwith the rank and file of our sires. At a blow, annihilate some distant\r\ntribe, now alive and jocund—and what would we reck? Curiosity apart, do\r\nwe really care whether the people in Bellatrix are immortal or no?\r\n\r\n“‘Though they smite us, let us not turn away from these things, if they\r\nbe really thus.\r\n\r\n“‘There was a time, when near Cassiopeia, a star of the first\r\nmagnitude, most lustrous in the North, grew lurid as a fire, then dim\r\nas ashes, and went out. Now, its place is a blank. A vast world, with\r\nall its continents, say the astronomers, blazing over the heads of our\r\nfathers; while in Mardi were merry-makings, and maidens given in\r\nmarriage. Who now thinks of that burning sphere? How few are aware that\r\never it was?\r\n\r\n“‘These things are so.\r\n\r\n“‘Fellow-men! we must go, and obtain a glimpse of what we are from the\r\nBelts of Jupiter and the Moons of Saturn, ere we see ourselves aright.\r\nThe universe can wax old without us; though by Oro’s grace we may live\r\nto behold a wrinkle in the sky. Eternity is not ours by right; and,\r\nalone, unrequited sufferings here, form no title thereto, unless\r\nresurrections are reserved for maltreated brutes. Suffering is\r\nsuffering; be the sufferer man, brute, or thing.\r\n\r\n“‘How small;—how nothing, our deserts! Let us stifle all vain\r\nspeculations; we need not to be told what righteousness is; we were\r\nborn with the whole Law in our hearts. Let us do: let us act: let us\r\ndown on our knees. And if, after all, we should be no more forever;—\r\nfar better to perish meriting immortality, than to enjoy it\r\nunmeritorious. While we fight over creeds, ten thousand fingers point\r\nto where vital good may be done. All round us, Want crawls to her\r\nlairs; and, shivering, dies unrelieved. Here, _here_, fellow-men, we\r\ncan better minister as angels, than in heaven, where want and misery\r\ncome not.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJW01NTY9T3WTV2B4B6JJ","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1954N2G0NAERBNJXEX9","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKRWTS2JB77QKZCGYWDFG","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKRWTNKM1B5V0P71JPXXT","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.258Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:27.588Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}