e always considered the period from
the molten condition to that with a crust as comparatively short, which
stands to reason, for radiation has then no check; and the period from
the formation of the crust, which acts as a blanket, to the death of a
planet, as very long. I have not found this view clearly set forth in
any of the books I have read, but it seems to me the simplest and most
natural explanation. Now, granted that the solar system was once a
nebula, on which I think every one will agree--the same forces that
changed it into a system of sun and planets must be at work on
fifty-one M. Canum venaticorum, Andromeda, and ninety-nine M. Virginis,
and must inevitably change them to suns, each with doubtless a system
of planets.

"If, then, the condition of a nebula or star depends simply on its
size, it is reasonable to suppose that Andromeda, Sirius, and all the
vast bodies we see, were created at the same time as our system, which
involves the necessity of one general and simultaneous creation day.
But as Sirius, with its diameter of twelve million miles, must be
larger than some of the nebulae will be when equally condensed, we must
suppose rather that nebulae are forming and coming into the condition
of bright and dead stars, much as apples or pears on a fruit tree are
constantly growing and developing, so that the Mosaic description of
the creation would probably apply in point of time only to our system,
or perhaps to our globe, though the rest will doubtless pass through
precisely the same stages. This, I think, I will publish, on our
return, as the Cortlandt astronomical doctrine, as the most rational I
have seen devised, and one that I think we may safely believe, until,
perhaps, through increased knowledge, it can be disproved."

After they crossed a line of hills that ran at right angles to their
course they found the country more rolling. All streams and
water-courses flowed in their direction, while their aneroid showed
them that they were gradually descending. When they were moving along
near the surface of the ground, a delicious and refined perfume exhaled
by the blue and white flowers, that had been growing smaller as they
journeyed northward, frequently reached their nostrils. To Cortlandt
and Bearwarden it was merely the scent of a flower, but to Ayrault it
recalled mental pictures of Sylvia wearing violets and lilies that he
had given her. He knew that the greatest telescopes on earth co