“There is philosophy in this.”
“Have you not in your conscience a sense of right as distinct from wrong—obscured often, but ever returning—like the reflection of the stars in the water? How comes it there unless there be the verities above? Unless your Maker so made you as to reflect them in your spirit?”
Æmilius said nothing.
“Have you not in you a sense of the sacredness of Truth, and a loathing for falsehood? How comes that, unless implanted in you by your Creator, who is Truth itself?”
“But we know not—in what is of supreme interest to us—in matters connected with the gods, what our duties, what our destiny—what is the Truth.”
“Young man,” said the bishop, “thou art a seeker after the kingdom of Heaven. One word further, and I must leave thee. Granted there are these scintillations within—”
“Yes, I grant this.”
“And that they be reflections of verities above.”
“Possibly.”
“Whence else come they?”