eye, it sends no message about itself up to the brain, and is not
seen.

And how does the picture on the eye send its message about itself to
the brain, so that the brain sees it? And how, again--for here is a
third wonder, greater still--do _we_ ourselves see what our brain
sees?

That no man knows, and, perhaps, never will know in this world. For
science, as it is called, that is, the understanding of this world,
and what goes on therein, can only tell us as yet what happens, what
God does: but of how God does it, it can tell us little or nothing;
and of why God does it, nothing at all; and all we can say is, at
every turn, "God is great."

Mind, again, that these are not all the wonders which are in the ear
and in the eye. It is wonderful enough, that our brains should hear
through our ears, and see through our eyes: but it is more
wonderful still, that they should be able to recollect what they
have heard and seen. That you and I should be able to call up in
our minds a sound which we heard yesterday, or even a minute ago, is
to me one of the most utterly astonishing things I know of. And so
of ordinary recollection. What is it that we call remembering a
place, remembering a person's face? That place, or that face, was
actually printed, as it were, through our eye upon our brain. We
have a picture of it somewhere; we know not where, inside us. But
that we should be able to call that picture up again, and look at it
with what we rightly call our mind's eye, whenever we choose; and
not merely that one picture only, but thousands of such;--that is a
wonder, indeed, which passes understanding. Consider the hundreds