to create an infinite universe there must needs
be an omnipotent creator; and there can be but one who is omnipotent.
I cordially agree. Further, I can see how that creator must be
mind--infinite mind. And I can see why that mind must be absolutely
perfect, with no intelligence of evil whatsoever, else would it be a
house divided against itself. And such a house must eventually fall.
Now I admit that the universe must be the manifestation, the
expression, of that infinite creative mind. But--and here's the
sticking point--the universe is both good and evil! Hence, the mind
which it manifests is likewise both good and evil--and the whole
pretty theory blows up!"

He sat down abruptly, with the air of having given finality to a
perplexing question.

All eyes then turned to Carmen, who slowly rose and surveyed the
little group.

"It is not surprising," she said, smiling at the confused Haynerd,
"that difficulties arise when you attempt to reach God through human
reasoning--spirit through matter. You have taken the unreal, and,
through it, have sought to reach back to the real."

"Well," interrupted Haynerd testily, "kindly explain the difference."

"Then, first," replied Carmen, "let us adopt some common meeting
ground, some basis which we can all accept, and from which we can
rise. Are you all agreed that, in our every-day life, everything is
mental?--every action?--every object?--and that, as the philosopher
Mill said, 'Everything is a feeling of which the mind is conscious'?
Let me illustrate my meaning," she continued, noting Haynerd's rising
protest. "I see this book; I take it up; and drop it upon the table.
Have I really seen a book? No; I have been conscious of thoughts which
I call a book, nothing more. A real material book did not get into my
mind; but _thoughts_ of a book did. And the activity of such thought
resulted in a state of consciousness--for consciousness is mental
activity, the activity of thought. Remember that, even according to
your great physical scientists, this book is composed of millions of
charges of electricity, or electrons, moving at a tremendously high
rate of speed. And yet, regardless of its composition, I am conscious
only of my thoughts of the book. It is but my thoughts that I see,
after all."

She paused and waited for the protest which was not voiced.

"Very well," she said, continuing; "so it is with the sense of touch;
I had the thought of touching it, and that thought I