once

perceived the truth. For, as he himself explained, this was not evidence of an ethical paradox but rather the deeper proof of God’s justice.’
“ ‘But therein lay not the source of his genius,’ countered the wizard. ‘By no means. The demonstration that this is the best of all possible worlds is a commonplace; any student not hopelessly stupid in his mind can prove it by any one of several theorems. No, rather the brilliance of his treatise is found in the specifics of his study of the beggar’s diet, for therein he established—with a scrupulous logic which remains an example to all philosophes—that the heretofore presumed connection between social status and diet is subject to the most precise and detailed demonstration, in that through an examination of a man’s diet we can determine how he arrives at his social status. This was his contribution to science.’
“ ‘What bullshit!’ swore the knight. ‘Beggars eat what they ­deserve.’
“ ‘Precisely, precisely!’ exclaimed the wizard. ‘But it was Stromo who first proved it.’
“At this point the cleric, clearly irritated, resumed his discourse. ‘Yes, yes, this is no doubt interesting, and goes to show once again the spiritual essence of Stromo’s mind—but the essential feature of the saint’s work was the further elaboration of God’s justice. This is proven by the very event which we so recently witnessed, the blessed squashing of this holy man. “How so?” you ask—for is it not passing strange that such a virtuous soul should come to such a grisly end? Is this not, on the face of it, an ethical mystery?’ ‘Preposterous!’ interrupted the wizard. ‘No mystery, but a paradox, obvious to any half-wit.’ The cleric pressed on, his lips pursed with rising ire—‘Not so! Rather we see here the greatest example of God’s mercy—for look