“But is it not the true light, father? Are not our spirits the real and substantial about us?”
“Substantial, Eunice? Our bodies are substantial.”
“Not substantial like our minds. Material substance is perishing, but spiritual substance endures for ever. In a little while our natural bodies will decay, but neither death, decay, nor corruption can touch our spiritual bodies. Our spiritual well-being is, therefore, of infinite importance, compared to our mere natural well-being.”
The words of the young preacher sunk into the heart of her father; a deep sigh struggled up from his bosom, and he sat thoughtful for many minutes.
“Doubtless you are right, Eunice,” he then said, speaking in a subdued voice. “Something of this I have heard before, but it never impressed me as it does now. I never felt that it was true. Fifty or sixty years is nothing to an eternal existence. The things of time are, therefore, of small moment, compared to the things of eternity; and the wealth of this world dross compared to heavenly riches.”
The eyes of Eunice were filled with tears as they turned with looks of happy affection upon the face of her father, and her voice was half broken as she said,
“To be able to see and feel this, father, is a great attainment, and not dearly bought, even at the price you have paid for it.”
“Perhaps not,” he replied. “The price has certainly been large.”
“Now it appears so; but the time will come, I hope, when the price that has been paid will seem really insignificant, compared to the good it procured; nay, I am sure it will come.”
“I trust it may, Eunice; but it has not come yet,” said Mr. Townsend, again sighing deeply. His natural affections still clung to the good things of natural life, while his perception of spiritual things, seen clearly only for a few moments in the light of his daughter’s mind, were but dim and confused. Still, there had been some progress. The uses of misfortune had been, to some small extent, realized.