r,--any of these. Death is only the negation of all these
things, because we can only say that in death we do none of them.
Reality is motion, in the broad sense, as far as man is concerned; death
is only the cessation of the ability to move. You cannot predicate
anything else of it."

"Oh, your dry, dry science!" exclaimed Chrysophrasia, casting
up her green eyes. "You would turn our fair fields and
limpid--ahem--skies--into the joyless waste of a London pavement, or one
of your horrid dissecting-rooms!"

"I don't see the point of your simile, Miss Dabstreak," answered Cutter,
with pardonable bluntness. "Besides, that is philosophy, and not
science."

"What is the difference. Mr. Griggs?" asked Hermione, turning to me.

"My dear young lady," said I, "science, I think, means the state of
being wise, and hence, the thing known, which gives a man the title of
wise. Philosophy means the love of wisdom."

"Rather involved definition," observed the professor, with a laugh.
"There is not much difference between the state of being wise and the
state of loving wisdom."

"The one asserts the possession of that which the other aspires to
possess, but considers to be very difficult of attainment," I tried to
explain. "The scientist says to the world, 'I have found the origin of
life: it is protoplasm, it is your God, and all your religious beliefs
are merely the result of your ignorance of protoplasm.' The philosopher
answers, 'I allow that this protoplasm is the origin of life, but how
did this origin itself originate? And if you can show how it originated
from inanimate matter, how did the inanimate matter begin to exist? And
how was space found in which it could exist? And why does anything
exist, animate or inanimate? And is the existence of matter a proof of a
supreme design, or is it not?' Thereupon science gets very red in the
face, and says that these questions are absurd, after previously stating
that everything ought to be questioned."

"Science," answered the professor, "says that man has enough to do in
questioning his immediate surroundings, without going into the matter of
transcendental inquiry."

"Then she ought to keep to her own proper sphere," said I, waxing hot.
"The fact is that science, armed with miserably imperfect tools, but
unbounded assumption, has discovered a jelly-fish in a basin of water,
and has deduced from that premise the tremendous conclusion that there
is no God."

"That is strong l