The infinite seeks manifestation. It projects itself as the point, defined by its position, one coordinate. Further seeking fulfillment, the point extends outward to become the line, now adding the concept of reference to another, creating length, reaching to infinity. But by manifesting a third point, and forming the triangle, the point has defined itself in relation to two others, and it has become a self-contained unit, the plane, fully independent in two dimensions, at rest in perfect harmony.
It is my conviction that, with the spread of true scientific culture, whatever may be the medium, historical, philological, philosophical, or physical, through which that culture is conveyed, and with its necessary concomitant, a constant elevation of the standard of veracity, the end of the evolution of theology will be like its beginning—it will cease to have any relation to ethics. I suppose that, so long as the human mind exists, it will not escape its deep-seated instinct to personify its intellectual conceptions. The science of the present day is as full of this particular form of intellectual shadow-worship as is the nescience of ignorant ages. The difference is that the philosopher who is worthy of the name knows that his personified hypotheses, such as law, and force, and ether, and the like, are merely useful symbols, while the ignorant and the careless take them for adequate expressions of reality. So, it may be, that the majority of mankind may find the practice of morality made easier by the use of theological symbols. And unless these are converted from symbols into idols, I do not see that science has anything to say to the practice, except to give an occasional warning of its dangers. But, when such symbols are dealt with as real existences, I think the highest duty which is laid upon men of science is to show that these dogmatic idols have no greater value than the fabrications of men's hands, the stocks and the stones, which they have replaced.
Existuje ještě jeden další rozdíl mezi logikou zjevného a skrytého vyprávění. Ve zjevném vyprávění existuje logická kauzální souvislost mezi vnějšími událostmi. Jonáš chce plout přes moře, protože chce utéci před Bohem, usne, protože je unaven, je vržen přes palubu, protože je považován za příčinu bouře a je pozřen rybou, protože se v moři vyskytují dravé ryby. Jedna událost vyplývá z předcházející. (Poslední část příběhu je sice nerealistická, ale nikoliv nelogická.) Ve skrytém příběhu naproti tomu vládne jiný druh logiky. Různé události jsou asociací spojeny se stejným vnitřním zážitkem. To, co se jeví jako kauzální posloupnost vnějších událostí, vlastně zastupuje spojení zážitků propojených jako události vnitřní. Je to právě tak logické, jako je logický zjevný příběh, ale jede tu o jiný druh logiky.
Symbols are what you might call the honorary town councillors of the worm universe. In the worm universe, there is nothing unusual about a dairy cow seeking a pair of pliers. A cow is bound to get her pliers sometime. It has nothing to do with me.Yet the fact that the cow chose me to obtain her pliers changes everything. This plunges me into a whole universe of alternative considerations. And in this universe of alternative considerations, the major problem is that everything becomes protracted and complex. I ask the cow, "Why do you want pliers?" And the cow answers, "I'm really hungry." So I ask, "Why do you need pliers if you're hungry?" The cow answers, "To attach them to branches of the peach tree." I ask, "Why a peach tree?" To which the cow replies, "Well, that's why I traded away my fan, isn't it?" And so on and so forth. The thing is never resolved. I begin to resent the cow, and the cow begins to resent me. That's a worm's eye view of its universe.