"Tell me openly, my son, are you as far gone already as those whose ravings I have read of with shuddering? Do you already hold, with those sleek materialists, that the miracle is ridiculous, and the spirit but a tale told from one to another, and to which man listens? Has neither thy youth, nor the seeds of thankfulness God sowed in your heart, been able to choke those weeds? Answer me, Clement!"
"Father," said the young man, after some consideration, "how shall I answer you this thing? I have dedicated my whole life to the consideration of this question. I have heard it decided in different ways, by men whose opinions I revere. Amongst my dearest friends are some who think what you condemn. I hear and learn and do not venture as yet to decide."
"He who is not for me is against me, saith the Lord."
"How can I be against Him? How can I be against the Spirit? Who ventures to ignore the spiritual, even though he binds it to the material? Do not its miracles remain what they were, even though they may be the result of natural causes? Is it a disgrace to a noble statue that it is hewn out of stone?"
"You speak like them all; so they intoxicate you with dark similes, so they deafen you with high sounding words, that you may not hear the still small voice within you; and you have come to keep Whitsuntide holy with us?"
"I came because I loved you."
There was silence between them. Several times the old man opened his mouth as if about to speak, and then pressed his lips firmly together again. They heard Mary's voice below in the house, and Clement stepped, listening, back from the window, at which he had been standing sorrowfully. "It is Mary," said the old man; "have you forgotten her too? Did the recollection of your childhood's playmate never pass before your soul, when your blasphemous companions endeavoured to destroy your pure, godly childishness of heart with their miserable sneers? Did she never remind you of the wonders the spirit can perform--even when it is deprived of sense--alone, out of itself. I should say of God, in a humble heart, which is rich in faith?"
Clement repressed the answer which rose ready to his lips. They heard the light step of the blind girl on the stairs. The door opened, and with flushing cheek Mary stood on the threshold; "Clement," she cried, fixing the bright brown eyes on the spot where he really stood. He approached her and took the hand that waited for his. "Oh! what pleasure you have given your parents! Welcome, welcome! How quiet you are!" she added.
"Dearest Mary, yes, I am here once again. I was obliged to come to see you all. How well you look, and you have grown so tall."
"I have gained a fresh life since the spring. The winter was heavy for me. I am so happy with your father and mother, Clement! Good day, dearest father." she added, "we went out so early that I could not press your hand;" she took it now. "Go below my child;" said the old man, "Clement will go with you--you can show him your garden. There is yet a little time before dinner. Think on my words, Clement."