ing, unless what they said had been told to them by
some tongue that they believed?"

Roswell smiled at Stephen's reasoning, which was not without a certain
point, but which an ingenious man might find the means of answering in
various ways.

"There is another thing, sir, that I've read in a book," resumed the
boat-steerer, "which goes a great way with me. Jesus allowed others to
call him the Son of God, without rebuking them for doing so. It does
really seem that they who believe he was a good man, as I understand is
the case with you, Captain Gar'ner, must consider this as a strong fact.
We are to remember what a sin idolatry is; how much all ra'al worshippers
abhor it; and then set that feelin' side by side with the fact that the
Son did riot think it robbery to be called the equal of the Father. To me,
that looks like a proof that our belief has a solid foundation."

Roswell did not reply. He was aware that it would not be just to hold any
creed responsible for the manner in which a person like Stimson defended
it. Still, he was struck with both of this man's facts. The last, he had
often met in books; but the first was new to him. Of the two, this novel
idea of the improbability of the apostles' inventing that which would seem
to be opposed to all men's notions and prejudices, struck him more
forcibly than the argument adduced from the acquiescence of the Redeemer
in his own divinity. The last might be subject to verbal criticism, and
could possibly be explained away, as he imagined; but the first appeared
to be intimately incorporated with the entire history of Christ's
ministrations on earth. These were the declarations of John the Baptist,
the simple and unpretending histories of the Gospels, the commentaries of
St. Paul, and the venerable teachings of the church through so many
centuries of varying degrees of faith and contention, each and all going
to corroborate a doctrine that, in his eyes, had appeared to be so
repugnant to philosophy and reason. Wishing to be alone, Roswell gave an
order to Stimson to execute some duty that fell to his share, and
continued walking up and down the terrace alone for quite an hour longer.

The night was coming in cold and still. It was one of those last efforts
of winter in which all the terrible force of the season was concentrated:
and it really appeared as if nature, wearied with its struggle to return
to a more genial temperature, yielded in despair, and was literally