y side. At our distance of ninety-two and a half millions of
miles, the great earth feels that power in gravitation, tides,
rains, winds, and all possible life--every part is full of power.
Fill the earth's orbit with a circle of such receptive
worlds--seventy thousand instead of one--everyone would be as fully
supplied with power from this central source. More. Fill the whole
dome, the entire extent of the surrounding sphere, bottom, sides,
top, a sphere one hundred and eighty-five million miles in diameter,
and everyone of these uncountable worlds would be touched with the
same power as one; each would thrill with life. This is only the D
of the alphabet of power. And glancing up to the other suns, one
hundred, five hundred, twelve hundred times as large, double,
triple, septuple, multiple suns, we shall find power enough to go
through the whole alphabet in geometrical ratio; and then in the
clustered suns, galaxies, and nebulae, power enough still
unrepresented by single letters to require all combinations of the
alphabet of power. What is the significance of this single element
of power? The answer of science to-day is "correlation," the
constant evolution of one force from another. Heat is a mode of
motion, motion a result of heat. So far so good. But are we mere
reasoners in a circle? Then we would be lost men, treading our round
of death in a limitless forest. What is the ultimate? Reason [Page
252] out in a straight line. No definition of matter allows it to
originate force; only mind can do that. Hence the ultimate force is
always mind. Carry your correlation as far as you please--through
planets, suns, nebulae, concretionary vortices, and revolving
fire-mist--there must always be mind and will beyond. Some of that
willpower that works without exhaustion must take its own force and
render it static, apparent. It may do this in such correlated
relation that that force shall go on year after year to a thousand
changing forms; but that force must originate in mind.

Go out in the falling rain, stand under the thunderous Niagara,
feel the immeasurable rush of life, see the hanging worlds, and
trace all this--the carried rain, the terrific thunder with God's bow
of peace upon it, and the unfailing planets hung upon nothing--trace
all this to the orb of day blazing in perpetual strength, but stop
not there. Who _made_ the sun? Contrivance fills all thought. _Who_
made the sun? Nature says there is a mind, and that m