"By pure reason only, sir. The imagination betrays. We try to image force, because we think that we succeed in imaging matter. We try to image spirit. I suppose that most people have a notion as to how God looks. Anything that has not extension is as nothing to our imagination. Yet we know that our minds are real, though we cannot attribute extension to mind. Divisibility is of matter; if the infinite mind has parts, then infinity is divisible--which is a contradiction." "Then God has no properties?" "Not in the sense that matter has, sir. If God has one of them, He has all of them. If we attribute extension to Him, we must attribute elasticity also, and all of them. But try to think of an elastic universal." "Captain, you said a while ago that everything is matter, force, and spirit. Do you place force as something intermediate between God and matter?" "Certainly, sir; force is above matter, and mind is above force." "I have heard that force is similar to matter in that nothing of it can be lost," said I. "When and where did you hear that?" asked the Captain, looking at me fixedly, almost sternly. The question almost brought me to my feet. When and where _had_ I heard it? My attention had been so fastened on the Captain's philosophy that it now seemed to me that I had become unguarded, and that from outside of me a thought had been sent into my mind by some unknown power; I could not know whence the thought had come. I had suddenly felt that I had heard the theory in question. I knew that, the moment before, I could not have said what I did. But I had spoken naturally, and without feeling that I was undergoing an experience. I stared back at Captain Haskell. Then I became aware of the fact that at the moment when I had spoken I had known consciously when it was and where it was that I had heard the theory, and I felt almost sure that if I had spoken differently, if I had only said, "From Mr. Such-a-one, or at such a place or time, I had heard the theory," I should now have a clew to something. But the flash had vanished. "It is lost," I said. "I am sorry," said he. "It is like the J.B. on the broken gun," said I. "I beg your pardon?" "I did not finish, telling you of my experience at that spot where I got water last Friday. Right in that spot was a broken gun with J.B. on the stock." "Are you sure, Jones?" "I picked up both pieces of the gun and looked at them closely." "Perhaps your seeing J.B. on the gun gave rise to your other reflections." "Not at all; the gun came last, not first." "What you are telling me is very remarkable," said the Captain; "you almost make me believe that you are right in saying that your name is Jones Berwick. However, J.B. is no uncommon combination of initials. Suppose Lieutenant Barnwell had found the gun." "If he had found J.G.B. on it, he would have wondered," said I. "True; but do you know that J.G.B. is many times more difficult than J.B.?"