Marian said: “Scientists speak of ‘dead matter,’ of all matter as dead. Is that so?”
I repeated my ideas on spirit and matter—all form is an expression of spirit—and also insisted on the limitations of our knowledge. I said: “Matter seems never to be dead, because when one force takes leave of it, another comes into possession, and decay is always the beginning of new life.”
Marian answered: “You mean the particles in this table are held together by a force?”
“Surely.”
“What is it? Does it feel?”
Again I pleaded ignorance.
We spoke of form as the eternal changing expression of spirit, of time as merely the measure and rhythm of progress or change. So Ruth found me willing to grant that all bad was a condition, not an unalterable thing, and that time was only a convention.
Concerning immortality Ruth believed all I do, and more besides. Alfred now agrees with me. He, too, feels that in some way he must continue to be.
Of the individual—or soul—Ruth thought as I. We also agreed on moral good and bad, and on the use and manner of prayer.
Marian asked me: “Why, if mind force forms body, can we not make our bodies perfect at once?”