"And yet isn't there a saying of Newton's, 'A little science sends man far away from God, a great deal of science brings man back to God?' You'll forgive the apparent rudeness. All I mean is--" "That the sooner I try to get more science the better for me," snapped out Stepton, brusquely interrupting his visitor, but without heat. "Let me tell you that I pass the greater part of my time in that very effort--to acquire more exact knowledge than I possess. Well--now then! Now then!" Turning round still more toward the curate he looked almost as if he were about to "square up" to him. A dry aggressiveness informed him, and his voice had a rasping timbre as he continued: "But I decline to take leaps in the dark like--" Here he mentioned a well-known man of science--"and I decline to reject evidence like--" Here he named a professor even more famous. The mention of the last name evidently excited Chichester's curiosity. "What evidence has he rejected?" he exclaimed. "Last week he held a sitting to examine the pretensions of Mrs. Groeber, the German medium. Westcott was also present, a man on whose word the very devil--if there is such a person, which I don't yet know--would rely. Some apparently remarkable phenomena occurred.--" Here he mentioned the professor--"was convinced that they could only have been brought about by supernormal means. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Westcott had seen the trickery which produced them. When the séance was over he explained what it was to ----. What did this _so-called_ man of science do? Refused to accept Westcott's evidence, clung to his own ridiculous belief,--savage's fetish belief, nothing more,--and will include the Groeber manifestations as evidence of supernormal powers in his next volume. And I say, I say"--he raised his forefinger--"that clergymen are doing much the same thing pretty nearly every day of their lives. Seek for truth quietly, inexorably, and you may get it; but don't prod men into falsehood, or try to, as you've been trying to in this very room." "I!" cried out Chichester. "You. I told you I had no reason to give you as to why you attracted my attention in the street. Were you satisfied with that? Not at all. You must needs come here,--very glad to see you!--and say, 'I feel sure you must be able to give me a reason. What is it?' You clamor for a lie. And that's what men are perpetually doing--clamoring for lies. And they get 'em, from clergymen, from mediums, from so-called scientific men, and from the dear delightful politicians. There now!" And the professor dropped his forefinger and flung himself back in his chair. "And"--Chichester in his turn leaned forward, but he spoke with some hesitation--"and suppose I were to tell you a truth, a strange, an amazing truth?" He paused. "Go on!" said the professor. "Wouldn't you do just the opposite? You say men accept lies. I say you would probably reject truth."