SIGNS AND SIGNS OF MIND n 



of any kind, would have been impossible. But it is not 

 so with matter. It yields itself easily and spontaneously 

 to distribution into divisions, placing this particle in this 

 division, that particle in that division, and every particle 

 in some division. Not merely a select few, but all 

 material particles, may be scientifically examined, their 

 qualities determined, and, according to measured like- 

 nesses and differences, placed among their kind, every 

 one of which they in every respect resemble. Of all 

 kinds, many general statements may be made. Of each 

 kind, many affirmations may be advanced, announcing 

 the laws of their action and the properties distinguishing 

 them. They thus open up large fields for scientific inves- 

 tigation, in which an immense wealth of knowledge may 

 be reaped. In short, matter in itself is full of thought. 

 It is crammed with ideas. It is a scene, extending before 

 the mind beyond all limits, and radiant with adjustments, 

 adaptations, and arrangements. It is full of thoughts 

 which we can think. It is crammed with ideas which 

 we can apprise and enthusiastically admire. It is radiant 

 with adjustments, adaptations, and arrangements which 

 we can measure, classify, and name. Its condition is 

 ideal. Its order, as it reveals itself, thrills the investigator. 

 Every discovery is a prize to the discoverer, is a rapture, 

 and moves him almost irresistibly to cry out, tvprjKa, evp^/ca, 

 I have found, I have found. What, then, has thought 

 the thoughts and carried them out ? What has conceived 

 the ideas and realised them? What has invented the 

 adjustments, adaptations, and arrangements, and shown 

 them working unto perfection on the fields of fact? 

 What has imparted to all matter its ordered condition, 

 made it the mind's delight, the understanding's rapture 1 

 Not matter itself, not the abstract thoughts and ideas, 

 lor thoughts cannot spring where mind is not, much less 



