“I remember,” she said softly, “I have always known you thought like that.”
“But my second reason,” he continued, “is, if possible, even stronger. Here are you and I—yes, Alice, I too—who would give our very lives to believe in God and immortality. How are we to do it? To examine all the evidence, for and against, would take a lifetime of incessant study; and even those who have given this—beginning, too, with far more learning than we possess—have reached widely different conclusions. Well may the Book of Job say, ‘Canst thou by searching find out God?’ but the author, whoever he was, failed to draw the conclusion that, if there were a God he would not so have hidden himself.”
“I suppose you are right; at least, I don’t see how to answer you. But, surely, Fred, there is a great deal in the Bible about the truth being easy to find. All through the Old Testament it is the Jews who are turning away from God, and he who pleads with them to return; and in the New it says that God has hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and revealed them unto babes; and that only those who become as little children can enter into the kingdom of heaven.”
“That is, only those who crush down the intellect and believe blindly,” he said bitterly. “I can find no faith on those terms, Alice; let me meet annihilation, if I must, with my eyes open.”
For another moment she clung to him, with her face hidden; then she looked up very pale, but calm.
“I can live without faith,” she said quietly; “but I give you warning now, that without you and my child I could not and would not live. If death comes to me first,—well! if not”—
“You will live as long as there is any one for whom you can make the burden of life less heavy,” he said, “and so will I so far as we can control our own fate. It has been all the creed I could boast of for many years, Alice, to say, ‘I believe there are those whom I must live to help.’ I give it to you, now, in return for that of which I have robbed you; take it for what it is worth.”
“‘I believe there are those whom I must live to help,’” she repeated slowly. “It is a better creed than poor Jennie’s, Fred. ‘I believe there are those whom I must live to help!’” A sudden light came to her eyes, a smile to her lips. “I will begin with you!” she cried. “Why, how abominably selfish I am, to keep you here talking theology, when you are tired to death and half starved, I dare say.”
“My comforts are at least all ready for me,” he answered, smiling, with a glance at the tempting meal upon the table, and the coffee-pot, and little dish of fried oysters keeping hot before the fire.
“I thought you would rather have your lunch here,” she said. “Will you change your clothes first?”