"Papa, there's something I must tell you. But I'm afraid it's quite difficult to say."
"Go ahead, Cosette. I am listening. I cannot promise I will not be angry or disappointed with what you tell me, but I can promise that I will do my best to be understanding and refrain from jumping to conclusions. Now, my child, speak to me."
"The thing is, papa... I've decided that I don't believe in God anymore."
Valjean's face turned paper white. "But Cosette, why ever not? The convent, the nuns- haven't they taught you anything? Tell me, child, where did I go wrong?"
"It's not your fault," said Cosette. "It's not anyone's fault. It's just that I've given it a lot of thought, and I've found that - please, papa, don't cry. It's not your fault, I promise."
"Kneel down and beg God's forgiveness for what you have just said," he whispered. It was the first time he had ever given her such an order. "I pray that He will be as merciful with you as He was with myself."
"Papa, it's all right. I'm not going to hell. I don't believe in hell."
"What about heaven, my child? Tell me you at least believe in that."
"I can't say for sure. But I know that I am hardly alone. Marius told me about how he lost his religion when he found something else to believe in. If he can do it, then so can anyone. Life without God is not empty or meaningless, papa. We can have morals and values, we just don't believe that there's an invisible man in the sky who knows all and sees all and judges all souls based on his own personal standards of morality."
"Blasphemy," he whispered, barely audible even to himself.
"Papa?" she whispered fearfully.
"I would do anything to keep your soul out of hell," said her father softly, without making eye contact, "but you must help me. Tell me you do not mean what you say. It is not too late to recant. Your mother gave her life so that you could live free of sin. She is up in Heaven, watching us now. And right now you are not her daughter. Nor mine."
"Papa, you're breaking my heart," Cosette whispered. "Are you telling me that you don't accept me anymore?"
"I will always accept you, Cosette," said he, his voice as heavy as his heart. "But I fear that God may not be so understanding. This is just a phase you're going through; you'll grow out of it. You've always been a good girl, Cosette. But if you don't believe in God, I don't know who you are anymore. I can't get inside your head at all."
"Haven't you ever struggled with your faith?" she asked him. "Haven't you ever wondered why a just and loving God would allow terrible things to happen, like what happened to Marius' parents and to my mother? Doesn't it feel better to just accept that these things happen, without trying to see a divine judgment in them? Papa, it's still me, it's still your daughter. I haven't changed. I don't say these things lightly, but only after I have thought about them for a long time. My wish is always to please you. But I have to be honest with you and with myself, and I can't keep lying to you about what I believe."
"First Marius and now this," he whispered angrily. "I knew that man was corrupting you."
"Papa, is your opinion of me so low that you don't think me capable to make decisions for myself, without some man? Why can't we just agree to disagree? Live and let live?"
"An atheist," he said softly, still trying to wrap his mind around it. What she had said was true; he had struggled with his faith. But he had cursed God, not stopped believing in Him. That had never even occurred to him as a possibility. An atheist - did that mean a deist, like some of Marius' friends and prominent figures of the Revolution? Was it more like Javert, for whom the Law was the only thing that was sacred? Or was it more like the Thénardiers, who thumbed their noses at Christ and seemed to take pleasure in committing immoral acts? He realized that although the Bishop had taught him that God lay in every person, that many of the people who had had the biggest impact on his lives had been... not Christian. Without God's law to guide them, they branched off to find their own, and their moralities were as varied as those of all the Christians he had ever encountered. All he wanted was some guarantee that Cosette would be one of the good ones, like the students - that she would never stray from a righteous path as he once had. For although he had never questioned religious authority, he had been hateful, he had challenged God but not denied him. In this moment, he had some insight as to how Javert felt standing on the Pont-au-Change, like everything he had known was slipping away from him. Perhaps the two men weren't so different after all. Atheists were a part of his society, whether he liked it or not.
"Tell me your morality," he said finally.
"Well... " Where could she begin? "I still agree with much of what the nuns said, like the commandments - do not kill, do not steal, do not lie, honor thy father and mother, the golden rule. But I also agree with the students - liberty, equality, fraternity, reason, and progress must rule our hearts. It would never drive me to kill, but I am glad that there are people who are trying to make things better peacefully. I think peace will always win where violence has failed.
Valjean was impressed by this discourse, but still not completely satisfied. "And do you think that your morality could change?" he pressed her.
"I suppose so. It's possible. But I doubt it. I have you to thank for giving me a strong background and a good compass in that respect."
Valjean was at a loss for words. A smile breaking across his face, he beckoned to his daughter and embraced her tightly. Perhaps there was something he could learn about morality from this atheist.