"What does this mean?" And a dark frown gathered on the old gentleman's forehead. "Defiance disguised in religious twaddle? Open rebellion? Is this the manner in which my son fulfils the duty of filial obedience?"
"Pardon me, father," said the youth with deferential firmness, "there is no divine law making it obligatory upon a father to select a wife for his son. Consequently, also, the duty of obedience on this point does not rest upon the son. Did I, beguiled by passion or driven by recklessness, wish to marry a creature whose depravity would imperil my temporal and eternal welfare, your duty, as a father, would be to oppose my rashness, and my duty, as a son, would be to obey you. Louise is just such a creature; she is artfully plotting against my religious principles, against my loyalty to God and the church. She has put upon herself as a task to lead me from the darkness of superstition into the light of modern advancement. I overheard her when she said to her brother, 'Did I for an instant doubt that Seraphin may be reclaimed from superstition, I would renounce my union with him, I would forego all the gratifications of wealth, so much do I detest stupid credulity.' Hence I should have to look forward to being constantly annoyed by my wife's fanatical hostility to my religion. There never would be an end of discord and wrangling. And what kind of children would such a mother rear? She would corrupt the little ones, instil into their innocent souls the poison of her own godlessness, and make me the most wretched of fathers. For these reasons Miss Greifmann shall not become my wife---no, never! I implore you, dear father, do not require from me what my conscience will not permit, and what I shall on no condition consent to," concluded the young man with a tone of decision.
Mr. Conrad had observed a solemn silence, like a man who suddenly beholds an unsuspected phenomenon exhibited before him. Seraphin's words produced, as it were, a burst of vivid light upon his mind, dispelling the multitudinous schemes and speculations that nestled in every nook and depth. The effect of this sudden illumination became perceptible at once, for Mr. Gerlach lost the points of view which had invariably brought before his vision the million of the Greifmanns, and he began to feel a growing esteem for the stand taken by his son.
"Your language sounds fabulous," said he.
"Here, father, is my diary. In it you will find a detailed account of what I have briefly stated."
Gerlach took the book and shoved it into the breast-pocket of his coat. In an instant, however, his imagination conjured up to him a picture of the Count of Hatzfurth's splendid estate, and he went on coldly and deliberately: "Hear me, Seraphin! Your marriage with Louise is a favorite project upon which I have based not a few expectations. The observations you have made shall not induce me to renounce this project unconditionally, for you may have been mistaken. I shall take notes myself and test this matter. If your view is confirmed, our project will have been an air castle. You shall be left entirely unmolested in your convictions."
Seraphin embraced his father.
"Let us have no scene; hear me out. Should it turn out, on the other hand, that your judgment is erroneous, should Louise not belong to yon crazy progressionist mob who aim to dethrone God and subvert the order of society, should her hatred against religion be merely a silly conforming to the fashionable impiety of the age, which good influences may correct--then I shall insist upon your marrying her. Meanwhile I want you to maintain a strict neutrality--not a step backward nor a step in advance. Now to tea, and let your countenance betray nothing of what has passed." He drew his son to his bosom and imprinted a kiss on his forehead.
The millionaires were seated around the tea-table. Mr. Conrad playfully commended Louise's talent for cooking. Apparently without design he turned the conversation upon the elections, and, to Seraphin's utter astonishment, eulogized the beneficent power of liberal doctrines.
"Our age," said he, "can no longer bear the hampering notions of the past. In the material world, steam and machinery have brought about changes which call for corresponding changes in the world of intellect. Great revolutions have already commenced. In France, Renan has written a Life of Christ, and in our own country Protestant convocations are proclaiming an historical Christ who was not God, but only an extraordinary man. You hardly need to be assured that I too take a deep interest in the intellectual struggles of my countrymen, but an excess of business does not permit me to watch them closely. I am obliged to content myself with such reports as the newspapers furnish. I should like to read Renan's work, which seems to have created a great sensation. They say it suits our times admirably."