you are one being; that the Athanasian Creed speaks, at least, reason
when it says, 'As the reasonable soul and the flesh are one man, so
God and man is one Christ.'

And three are one in every plant in the field. Root, bark, leaves,
are three. And yet--they are one tree; and if you take away any one
of them, the tree will die. So it is in all nature. But why do I
talk of a tree, or any other example? Wherever you look you find
that one thing is many things, and many things one. So far from that
fact being contrary to our reason, it is one which our reason (as
soon as we think deeply about this world) assures us is most common.
Of every organized body it is strictly true, that it is many things,
bound together by a certain law, which makes them one thing and no
more. And, therefore, every organized body is a mystery, and above
reason: but its organization is none the less true for that.

And there are philosophers who will tell you--and wisely and well--
that there must needs be some such mystery in God; that reason ought
to teach us--even if revelation had not--two things. First, that God
must be one; and next, that God must be many--that is, more than one.

Do I mean that our own reason would have found out for itself the
mystery of the ever-blessed Trinity? God forbid! Nothing less.

There surely is a difference between knowing that a thing must be,
and knowing that the thing is, and what it is like; and there surely
is a difference between knowing that there is a great mystery and
wonder in God, and knowing what that mystery is.

Man might have found out that God was one, and yet more than one; but