Gentola—Seated around a long table are five young men, and two dark skinned, handsome girls in the bloom of early womanhood. On the table are instruments of a kind, quite unlike any I ever have seen, through which all are intently gazing. All are taking notes, and making drawings, and a most animated conversation is being carried on, in which the young women take part. You say that those instruments are microscopes, but they are quite unlike any microscopes I have ever seen. There are five convex lenses, one above the other, but slightly apart, and they are suspended between two slender rods, a few inches in length. Above each microscope a tiny, blindingly brilliant light is suspended, above which is a reflector which seems to focalize the light and reflect it downward through the lenses, onto some odd looking object. You say it is the eye of some small animal? Oh, I never could have imagined that the eye is so complex, so wonderfully beautiful. Yes, I now see it very clearly. Through the glasses it appears greatly enlarged. Describe it? No, indeed, I am not so presumptuous as to attempt it. You clever ones should describe things of which I am quite ignorant.
De L'Ester—You have said all that we really have desired you to say. Should a competent person give a technical description of these instruments, and object under investigation, your caution would take alarm, and you would become too positive for our purposes, one of which is to inform the peoples of our planet that the Entoans are very like themselves, and that their methods of acquiring knowledge are somewhat similar to those of the neighbors who are so curious about them.
Gentola—Now that I better understand your motive in asking me to describe various things I shall feel less sensitive over my incompetence, and you may rest assured that after this microscopic observation I shall set a higher value on my own eyes.
De L'Ester—I thought you might, and it is high time you should, for you not only use, but you abuse your eyes. The controversy over the lesson grows very animated. Be attentive, and I will interpret what may be said.
Faveon—Nitana, both you and Dano certainly are mistaken in your conclusions. Our Sacred Writings distinctly declare that Andûmana̤ is Infinite in all His attributes. That He creates and destroys as He Wills, but nowhere is it written that He modifies any creature in order to fit it to changed conditions. To my mind it savors of impiety to question the accepted interpretation given our Sacred Writings by our scarcely less Sacred Priesthood.
Dano—I do not doubt but that Andûmana̤ is Infinite in all His attributes, and I do not question but that He creates in accordance with His own purposes, but I do not believe that any one living creature is a special act of His creative Will, but that through His fixed purposes or Laws, which are a part of Himself, all things come into existence. If each living creature is a special act of His creative power, logically one must infer that all creatures are perfect expressions of His Will. Yet it is an indisputable fact that if animals of any species are for a prolonged period kept in darkness, their organs of vision will become modified to fit them for their environment. I cannot but think that our Priesthood misinterpret the meanings of portions of our Sacred Writings, and that they are prone to cling too closely to ancient interpretations. May Andûmana̤'s Messengers understand that I do not desire to offer my immature ideas as infallible truths, and I pray that they may direct my ever questioning thoughts.
Nitana—Ever our scientific investigations oppose themselves to the teachings of our Holy Religion, occasioning in our minds unrest and dissatisfaction with our conditions. Though our devoted Priests continually admonish us against an indulgence in profane imaginings, our truant thoughts go far astray, and we grow bewildered and afraid lest the justly offended gods may visit upon us dire punishment. Even while we strive to learn the complex meanings of life, we are shrinking from death, and crying to Andûmana̤'s messengers to bear to Him our unceasing prayers for release from the dread God Phra (death), whose dark form overshadows all our days.
Scientific research has reached a limit where boldest and most earnest minds pause uncertain and appalled. They cannot turn backward, and they dare not go forward. Oh, that Andûmana̤ may as in ancient times hearken to the prayers of His sorrowful children, and grant to them a clearer understanding of truth.
Faveon—Nitana, it is not we alone whose minds are full of unrest, for alas, the people too are questioning and doubting, and none too firmly are the priesthood opposing themselves to the further advance of skepticism. I fear that we too indulge in too free thought and speech, and are becoming dreamers rather than thinkers. Dano, your example is contagious. I pray that I may not find myself also dreaming strange dreams, or yielding to baseless imaginings.
Dano—And yet it may come to pass. Truly, it has not been through my desire that recent strange experiences have come to me. May the Gods pardon my presumption, if I sometimes dare to hope that they in their own way may, through me, convey some new Revelation of Andûmana̤'s love for His sorrowful children, whose entreaties for release from death, ever are the burden of their prayers.