"In its own sense, that, too, is sacred; but it teaches me nothing of the deep struggles between the human heart and the laws of the state."

"Mother," cried Johanna, kneeling before her; "here is the Bible. I implore you to give up those profane books; they cannot help you.

Listen to the Word of G.o.d!"

"To me he speaks through these books," answered my wife.

"Mother, we are mourning for the lost son."

"Our son is not lost; he is a sad sacrifice."

Richard entered. Mother said to him, "Read me the story from the Gospel."

"What do you refer to?" inquired Richard.

"Mother means the Parable of the Prodigal Son," interrupted Johanna; and holding the Bible on high, she continued: "Here it is: Gospel of St. Luke, fifteenth chapter, eleventh verse."

"Not you, but Richard, shall read it."

"But, mother--"

"Richard, I wish you to read it."

He had just taken the book, when Annette entered. She asked whether she was disturbing them.

My wife said that she was not, and requested her to sit down at her side.

In a calm and full voice Richard read:

"'And he said, A certain man had two sons:

"'And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living.

"'And not many days after, the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living.

"'And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want.

"'And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine.

"'And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat; and no man gave unto him.

"'And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger!

"'I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee.

"'And am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants.

"'And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compa.s.sion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.

"'And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.

"'But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet:

"'And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry:

"'For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.

"'Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing.

"'And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant.

"'And he said unto him, Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound.

"'And he was angry, and would not go in: therefore came his father out and entreated him.

"'And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandments; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends.

"'But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.

"'And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.

"'It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.'"

When Richard had finished, he placed his hand on the open book and said, "This story has much dramatic interest. The father, the two sons, the servant, are clearly and strikingly drawn; and with correct judgment; the mother is not mentioned, for here it would not do to have double notes--a variation of emotion on the part of the father and one on the part of the mother. I might, indeed, say that a mother would have dwelt on the appearance her son presented on his return; while here it is left unnoticed. Further--"

"What do you mean? You are not among your students," angrily interrupted Johanna.

"You are right," continued Richard, with a quiet smile; "my students are polite enough to permit me to finish a sentence without interrupting me. I will also state, first of all, that this ingenious parable makes no mention of the sister. I do not know what a sister would have said in that affair."

Johanna jumped from her seat in anger; her features seemed distorted with pa.s.sion. She opened her mouth to answer him, but could not utter a word.

"Shall I go on, mother?" asked Richard.

"Of course; speak on."

"In the first place, the pure spirit which here reveals itself is as fully acknowledged by us as by the pious believers.

"To me the all-important point is, that it ill.u.s.trates a view of the relation between parents and children, which is completely the reverse of that fostered by the ancient civilization, in which the children suffer for the sins of their parents. Just think of the curse of the Atrides. In our days, it is quite different, and the fate of the parents--their happiness as well as their sorrow--depends upon the conduct of their children.

"The individual to whom such affliction comes is subject to the great and universal law of the newer life."

"Is there anything else you would like to say?" inquired Johanna, in an angry voice. She had some time before that s.n.a.t.c.hed the Bible out of Richard's hands, and had been reading in it ever since, as if she thought that the best way to counteract the influence of the heresies he had been uttering. With all that, she seemed to hear every word that was said.

"I certainly have, if you will permit me. To me this story seems a repet.i.tion, in a new shape, of a subject already treated in the same book. The story of Joseph in Egypt is a family history that borders on the region of fable, narrated without any regard to the moral that underlies it, and yet representing to us the reward of innocence. This story which tells of a son who had been a real sinner, and for that reason was not permitted to return as a viceroy amid joy and splendor, but in the garb of a beggar, has another lesson for us. Viewed from the stand-point of the Old or New Testament, or even by our own feelings, it tells the story of redemption. Yes, every human being who falls into sinful ways, shall be obliged to eat the husks;.... but he is not lost.

When through self-knowledge his soul has been humbled in the dust, He who never fails will lift him up again, for it is far easier to avoid sin than, before G.o.d and one's own soul, to confess having sinned."

After a pause of a few moments, Richard continued: "There is an excellent painting of the Prodigal's Return. It is by Fuhrich. The artist has chosen the moment when the father is embracing his long-lost son, now kneeling at his feet; the son, however, dares not venture to embrace his father; bent down towards the earth, he folds his hands upon his breast in humble, silent grat.i.tude."

Johanna seemed to think that she might as well abandon all attempts to change our views of religious matters. She arose from her seat and, pressing the Bible to her bosom, left the room without uttering another word.