"I think so."
"No, it is not. If ice were heavier than water, it would sink, and the streams would freeze from the bottom upward. There suddenly we have a deviation, an exception to the so-called stern and implacable law of Nature. Water attains its utmost weight and density at a temperature of 38°.75 Fahrenheit. Beyond this point, it grows lighter, and expands. And I tell you I do not comprehend how a man knowing this can persist in denying God. For God is here. Here is no mere blind, self-regulative, natural law. Here is the free Genius of the Universal. Here is Wisdom. Observe, if solidified water went on increasing in weight, and streams froze from beneath upward, the river-beds would remain undisturbed until the spring-thaws. And do you understand what the consequences would be?"
"Certainly; the fish would all die."
"Even so. Here is the wisdom of God. Here is the Deity who modifies the law of Nature for the preservation of his creatures. Our God no longer towers aloft above the waters and their laws. He lives and works within the waters. The law of Nature is broken that Nature may be preserved. There are no more visible miracles; but all life, beyond a certain point, subsists by a miracle,—the miracle of Genius. The very surface of the earth, whereon we plant and build, is such a natural miracle. Our globe is molten fire inside, and the crust remains cool above it. Do you understand?"
"I believe I do."
"And now, my son, you have not to suffer and repent and make atonement under some iron law of Nature, because the man who was your father sinned. You are free. Least of all creatures, is man the helpless subject of natural law. He is lord of his fate. Look up! The world is very bright, and this whole, vast, beauteous world is full of God. Let the bell-ringers, yonder, understand and address him after their own fashion. It is not ours. The churches are but little chambers in the great temple of the universe. Let no man, in my presence, restrict the Highest to one revelation and one mode of worship. God, the great, the holy, is everywhere. It is impossible not to find him. We have him here, out under the broad arch of heaven, and we have him in our own hearts. He who thus feels the breath of the Infinite upon him—he lives a holy life. Come to my heart, my son! You have wrestled manfully! You are saved!"
Roland threw himself into the arms of this man, and kissed his garment, and wept in the fulness of his heart.
It was night when they disembarked; but within and around Roland all was ineffably bright. A new man stepped upon the shore.
Roland and Weidmann walked home in silence.
With a feeling of release, as if the evil spirit which possessed him had been exorcised by a spell, Roland entered the house with Weidmann. He stood at the window, gazing long into the starlit heaven, and then wrote a letter to Manna. Out of an overflowing heart, he told her that to-day he had found the Highest—a trust, a faith, a rest, such as he had never believed possible. But he could not finish the letter.