t also. Every universal truth which we
express in words, implies or supposes every other truth. _Omne
verum vero consonat_. It is like a great circle on a sphere,
comprising all possible circles; which, however, may be drawn, and
comprise it, in like manner. Every such truth is the absolute Ens
seen from one side. But it has innumerable sides.

The central Unity is still more conspicuous in actions. Words are
finite organs of the infinite mind. They cannot cover the dimensions
of what is in truth. They break, chop, and impoverish it. An action is
the perfection and publication of thought. A right action seems to fill
the eye, and to be related to all nature. "The wise man, in doing one
thing, does all; or, in the one thing he does rightly, he sees the
likeness of all which is done rightly."

Words and actions are not the attributes of brute nature. They
introduce us to the human form, of which all other organizations
appear to be degradations. When this appears among so many that
surround it, the spirit prefers it to all others. It says, 'From such as
this, have I drawn joy and knowledge; in such as this, have I found
and beheld myself; I will speak to it; it can speak again; it can yield
me thought already formed and alive.' In fact, the eye,--the mind,--is
always accompanied by these forms, male and female; and these are
incomparably the richest informations of the power and order that
lie at the heart of things. Unfortunately, every one of them bears the
marks as of some injury; is marred and superficially defective.
Nevertheless, far different from the deaf and dumb nature around
them, these all rest like fountain-pipes on the unfathomed sea of
thought and virtue whereto they alone, of all organizations, are the
entrances.

It were a pleasant inquiry to follow into detail their ministry to our
education, but where would it stop? We are associated in adolescent
and adult life with some friends, who, like skies and waters, are
coextensive with our idea; who, answering each to a certain
affection of the soul, satisfy our desire on that side; whom we lack
power to put at such focal distance from us, that we can mend or
even analyze them. We cannot choose but love them. When much
intercourse with a friend has supplied us with a standard of
excellence, and has increased our respect for the resources of God
who thus sends a real person to outgo our ideal; when he has,
moreover, become an object of thought, and, whilst