“I understand perfectly,” said the steady voice. “You are in a very reasonable position. I wish all were as open-minded. May I say a word or two?”
“Please.”
“Well, it is materialization that puzzles you, is it?”
“Exactly,” said Laurie. “Our theologians tell us—by the way, I am a Catholic.” (The other bowed a little.) “Our theologians, I believe, tell us that such a thing cannot be, except under peculiar circumstances, as in the lives of the saints, and so on.”
“Are you bound to believe all that your theologians say?” asked the other quietly.
“Well, it would be very rash indeed—” began Laurie.
“Exactly, I see. But what if you approach it from the other side, and try to find out instead whether these things actually do happen. I do not wish to be rude, Mr. Baxter; but you remember that your theologians—I am not so foolish as to say the Church, for I know that that was not so—but your theologians, you know, made a mistake about Galileo.”
Laurie winced a little. Mr. Jamieson cleared his throat in gentle approval.
“Now I don’t ask you to accept anything contrary to your faith,” went on the other gently; “but if you really wish to look into this matter, you must set aside for the present all other presuppositions. You must not begin by assuming that the theologians are always right, nor even in asking how or why these things should happen. The one point is, do they happen ?”
His last words had a curious little effect as of a sudden flame. He had spoken smoothly and quietly; then he had suddenly put an unexpected