I wondered if
Moxon knew the significance and breadth of his
thought--the scope of this momentous generaliza-
tion; or had he arrived at his philosophic faith by
the tortuous and uncertain road of observation?
That faith was then new to me, and all Moxon's
expounding had failed to make me a convert; but
now it seemed as if a great light shone about me, like
that which fell upon Saul of Tarsus; and out there in
the storm and darkness and solitude I experienced
what Lewes calls 'The endless variety and excite-
ment of philosophic thought.' I exulted in a new
sense of knowledge, a new pride of reason. My feet
seemed hardly to touch the earth; it was as if I were
uplifted and borne through the air by invisible
wings.
Yielding to an impulse to seek further light from
him whom I now recognized as my master and guide,
I had unconsciously turned about, and almost before
I was aware of having done so found myself again
at Moxon's door. I was drenched with rain, but felt
no discomfort. Unable in my excitement to find the
doorbell I instinctively tried the knob. It turned and,
entering, I mounted the stairs to the room that I had
so recently left. All was dark and silent; Moxon, as
I had supposed, was in the adjoining room--the
'machine-shop.' Groping along the wall until
found the communicating door I knocked loudly
several times, but got no response, which I attributed
to the uproar outside, for the wind was blowing a
gale and dashing the rain against the thin walls in
sheets.
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