We look upon the beautiful flowers, fashioned to the minutest detail of perfect finish, breathe their sweet fragrance, observe their delicacy of tint and color, and they tell us a story of Joy, for we know that back of them is the infinite Love of which they are one of the expressions. We look upon the green grass with its freshness and beauty of color and form, upon the springing leaves and budding blossoms, upon the glory of landscape, of sky, and of cloud, and we read in them lessons of Joy and gladness, for we know that they are reflected, even to our mortal perception, out of the plenitude of divine Love.
We think of this earth of ours, with its eight thousand miles of diameter and twenty-five thousand miles of circumference, with its size and estimated weight of six thousand trillions of tons, and we know that it is held in space without material prop or support. What holds it?
We look away to the remotest, planet brought within the range of the most powerful telescope yet devised, which tells of a distance, a size, a ponderosity, in comparison with which our little earth becomes almost infinitesimal, and we know that it too is held out in space without material prop or support. What holds it?
