“I confess that I have not done half my duty,” said Everett, humbly; “but I have spent many years in study; I have dipped into science.”
“Science? Zanah hath naught to do with science,” said Gerson Brandt. “Science would reveal the mysteries of nature that the Lord hath hidden from his people.”
“Don’t you think that the man who inquires just how the tiny body of Piepmatz has had its origin in the egg, how the bones and muscles that form the wing give him the power of flight, and how his mite of a brain is made to be the home of at least a fragment of intelligence has a wider conception of the omnipotence of God than he who knows nothing of what you call the secrets of nature?” asked Everett.
“I would not place my judgment against the judgment of Zanah,” said Gerson Brandt. “And yet when I was a boy I learned about the growth of a flower, and my soul was quickened with a new impulse towards worship.”
“They tell me there is a magic force called electricity that is now performing what would once have been called miracles,” said Walda.
It seemed incredible to Everett that, notwithstanding all the barriers placed between Zanah and the outside world, it could be possible so completely to shut out all that was modern.
“Yes; electricity propels cars; it gives men the power to talk when they are hundreds of miles apart; it sends words across the continent, literally, with lightning rapidity. You know the latest achievement of science is the discovery of the x-ray, by which it is possible to look through a man’s body so that the bones are visible.”
“How strange it all is!” exclaimed Walda, who was still stroking her father’s hand.
“The wisdom of the world is so great that no one man can understand more than the smallest fragment of it,” averred Gerson Brandt.
Walda was lost in thought for another moment or two.