expresses itself.

The monk sat down, on the farther side of the table.

"That's better, Monsignor," he said, smiling. . . . "Well, there's
really not much to do. Insanity seems the only possible plea."

He smiled again, brilliantly.

"Tell me the whole thing," said the prelate suddenly and
hoarsely. "Just the outline. I don't understand; and I can do
nothing unless I do."

"You haven't followed the case?"

Monsignor shook his head. The monk considered again.

"Well," he said. "This is the outline; I'll leave out technical
details. I have written a book (which will never see the light
now) and I sent an abstract of it to Rome, giving my main thesis.
It's on the miraculous element in Religion. I'm a Doctor in
Physical Science, you know, as well as in Theology. Now there's a
certain class of cure (I won't bother you with details, but a
certain class of cure) that has always been claimed by
theologians as evidently supernatural. And I'll acknowledge at
once that one or two of the decrees of the Council of 1960
certainly seem to support them. But my thesis is, first, that
these cures are perfectly explicable by natural means, and
secondly, that therefore these decrees must be interpreted in a
sense not usually received by theologians, and that they do not
cover the cases in dispute. I'm not a wilful heretic, and I
accept absolutely therefore that these decrees, as emanating from
an ecumenical council, are infallibly true. But I repudiate
entirely--since I am forced to do so by scientific fact (or, we
will say, by what I am persuaded is scientific fact)--the usual
theological interpretation of the wording of the decrees. Well,
my judges take the other view. They tell me that I am wrong in
my second point, and therefore wrong also in my first. They tell
me that the decrees do categorically cover the class of cure I
have dealt with; that such cures have been pronounced by the
Church therefore to be evidently supernatural; and that therefore
I am heretical in both my points. On my side, I refuse to submit,
maintaining that I am differing, not from the Catholic Church as
she really is, (which would be heretical), but from the Catholic
Church as interpreted by these theologians. I know it's rash of
me to set myself against a practically universal and received
interpretation; but I feel myself bound in conscience to do so.
Very well; that is the point we have now reached. I could not
dream of separating myself from Cath