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It was Sunday afternoon in mid-summer at Greenstreet. The wheat again stood in the shock. The alfalfa waved in scented purple. Dorian and the old philosopher of Greenstreet sat in the shade of the cottonwood and looked out on the farm scene as they talked. "I've also been reading 'Natural Law in the Spiritual World'" said Dorian. "Good," replied Uncle Zed.
"Well" he said, "why don't some of you say something?" "Please pass the pickles," responded Mrs. Trent. When the merriment had ceased, uncle Zed continued: "There is some truth in these definitions. God is all that which they try to express, and vastly more. The trouble is these men talk about the attributes of God, and confound these with the being and personality of the Great Parent.
Uncle Zed rambled on reminiscently until Mrs. Trent suddenly arose, spoke sharply to Carlia, and lifted the basket of picnic on to the table. "We'll have our refreshments now," she said, "and then we must be going. Uncle Zed goes early to bed, and so should we." The table was spread: roast chicken, brought by Carlia; dainty sandwiches, made by Mildred; apple pie from Mrs.
Uncle Zed held out his hand and smiled. "There," he said in a whisper, "is a hesitating suggestion of the truth which we boldly proclaim." "Now you are tired, Uncle Zed," said Dorian. "I had best not read more." "Just one the next one."
If I were young, if I if I were like you, Dorian, you who have life before you, what might not I do, with the help of the Lord!" "What, Uncle Zed?" "Drummond was a clergyman and a professor of natural history and science. As such, he was a student of the laws of God as revealed both through the written word of inspiration and in nature about him.
It seems like magic, doesn't it?" "It does," assented the Professor. "There's Zed Jones," continued the Post Mistress, "with his new drag, his Queen Anne cottage built of gray stone, his Irish setters. And Mrs. Zed sending to Paris for all her clothes, and the little Zeds fine as fiddles with their ponies and their pony carts." "And Hezekiah Smith," reminded the Professor.
Carlia listened attentively to his discussion of deep problems, and he was agreeably surprised to learn that she could readily follow him in the discussion of these themes; so that the long winter evenings spent with her either at her home or at his own became a source of great inspiration to the young man who had not lost sight or the mission assigned to him by the beloved Uncle Zed.
I realize that the great ocean of truth is yet before me who am now an old man and can never hope in this life to explore much further." "But how is it, Uncle Zed," enquired Dorian, "that so many scientists have such little faith?"
As he read the following, he wondered whether or not Uncle Zed had not also been so designated, and had written this in reply: "Mother Earth, why should not I love you? Why should not I get close to you? Why should I plan to live always in the clouds above you, gazing at other far-distant worlds, and neglecting you?
Knowledge is power, both for good and for ill. I have been thinking lately of the nature of faith, the forerunner of knowledge. I can realize somewhat the meaning of the scripture which says that the worlds were framed and all things in them made by the power of faith. As Uncle Zed used to say " "You always put it that way. Don't you know anything of your own?" "No; no one does.
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