To understand how our powers are limited let us take the following illustrations. We see a horse of great fleetness, power, and intelligence, with a barn before him all his life; and yet unable to build one though he well knows it will protect him from the winds, cold, and rain. We likewise see man with grass-seed, grains of sand and oceans of water before him, and floods of air above; unable to make a particle of any of these, no matter how much he needs soil to stand on, water to quench his thirst, or air to breathe. His powers are limited; he cannot live in ocean, sail the air, or even penetrate the earth to any great depth. There are barriers against him, and although he has invented wondrous ships, they do not yet take him to the North or South Poles. Not that he does not know where the Poles are upon the earth’s surface, but he seems thus far utterly unable to pass the surrounding barriers. May not these very barriers be protecting some creatures that otherwise might be exposed to injury or extermination? for we see how living things are protected, oftentimes, by their diminutive size so that animals of greater power and size cannot enter their homes to harm them; or the weaker ones have a fleetness given to them whereby they escape in time of danger. We find man endowed with such reason and wisdom that occasionally he discovers keys unlocking the mysteries of creation; these have already opened to our view, the “ancient sunlight,” and developed steam, electricity, and other of the natural forces for man’s benefit. Suppose that George Washington had awakened after but a night’s sleep and been told that King George of England desired to speak with him. Would not the astonished General have asked: “What has become of the Atlantic ocean that I am expected to talk with King George without going to London to meet him!” That which would have inextricably puzzled the Great Commander-in-Chief is to-day scarcely thought of as mysterious, and we may believe that many like mysteries will yet yield to man’s remarkable intelligence. On this great earth with its 270,000 millions of cubic miles, with its oceans of water and the ocean of air surrounding it, and with the enormous amount of light and heat falling upon it from the sun, we see life enough to lead us to know assuredly there must be oceans of life of which we at present know nothing. Take, for instance, any field or garden and extend it however far you please—even to cover the whole earth if you will—and with but a single grass-seed you can cover the whole earth with that particular kind of grass;—assuming that it has the necessary light, heat, and moisture to make it grow and increase. We know there is light and heat in abundance, for enough falls upon the torrid zone alone to give to the whole earth a moderate temperature, if equally diffused. We know, further, that this single grass-seed is not the life but simply the key that will unlock any quantities of life. What is true of the