in the universe. That light, heat, electricity, magnetism, all these
marvellous and diverse varieties of forces, are one force, and can be
at the will and skill of man converted into each other.

Next, we have learned that there is one law in the universe. Should we
not be Unitarians? Should we not believe in the unity of God, when we
can see, as far as the telescope can reach on the one hand and the
microscope on the other, one eternal, changeless Order?

Another point. We have learned the unity of substance. We know how
Comte, the famous French scientist, advised his followers not to
attempt to find out anything about the fixed stars, because, he said,
such knowledge was forever beyond the reach of man. How long had Comte
been dead before we discovered the spectroscope? And now we know all
about the fixed stars. We know that the stuff we step on in the street
this morning as we go home from church is the same stuff of which the
sun is made, the same stuff as that which flamed a few years ago as a
comet, the same stuff as that which shines in Sirius, in suns so many
miles away that it takes millions of years for their light to reach us.
One stuff, one substance, throughout the universe; and this poor old,
tear-wet earth of ours is a planet shining in the heavens as much as
any of them, of the same glorious material of which they are made.

Then, again, we have discovered the unity of life. From the little tiny
globule of protoplasm up to the brain of Shakspere, one life throbbing
and thrilling with the same divinity which is at the heart of the
world.

We have discovered not only the unity of life, we have discovered the
unity of man. Not a hundred different origins, different kinds of