“One may be a theologian and a philosopher, for philosophy never contradicts any truth, and besides, to say ‘I do not know’ is not the same as ‘I am sure’.”
Three parts of the guests burst into cries of admiration, and the fair philosopher enjoyed seeing me laugh for pleasure at the applause. The pastor wept for joy, and whispered something to Helen’s mother. All at once he turned to me, saying,—
“Ask my niece some question.”
“Yes,” said Hedvig, “but it must be something quite new.”
“That is a hard task,” I replied, “for how am I to know that what I ask is new to you? However, tell me if one must stop at the first principle of a thing one wants to understand.”
“Certainly, and the reason is that in God there is no first principle, and He is therefore incomprehensible.”
“God be praised! that is how I would have you answer. Can God have any self-consciousness?”
“There my learning is baffled. I know not what to reply. You should not ask me so hard a thing as that.”
“But you wished for something new. I thought the newest thing would be to see you at a loss.”
“That’s prettily said. Be kind enough to reply for me, gentlemen, and teach me what to say.”