I t was near the end of the following week ere Miss Roscoe and Mrs. Stevens again met. After some remarks from Mrs. Stevens upon the evident depression of her friend's spirits, Miss Roscoe observed:
"Since I had the pleasure of seeing you last week, I have felt the extremes of anguish and of joy. My life is indeed a chequered one, and I often wonder how the scene will end."
"Yes, my dear, the life of every Christian is a chequered life. He is liable to a continued change of feeling, and the scene of Providence is ever shifting; the current of his history may run on for a season in a smooth and even course, but it is constantly exposed to obstructions. Joy and grief are very delicate passions; and as they have such a powerful influence over us, it is wisely ordained that we shall not be kept in a state of perpetual excitement. They come in as with a flood of feeling; but, instead of laying waste the mind, they often become the means of enriching it with the most nutritious consolations."
"But how difficult it is to control grief, when it springs out of a domestic calamity."
"I hope, my dear, you have no new domestic trial."
"I am not aware that I have a new one, but I have one that has inflicted a most poignant wound, and I know not what steps to take. My dear parents manifest the most decided hostility to my religious opinions and habits. When they confined their hostility within the bounds of argument and persuasion, I found it comparatively easy to maintain the contest; but now they begin to reproach me, and I fear their attachment is on the decline. To survive the loss of their affection, I think, will be to live too long for my own peace. Where shall I find another home? Where shall I find another father? Where shall I find happiness when my parents cease to love me and regard me as their daughter?"
"Though your parents are hostile to your religious opinions and habits, their hostility will not continue always. They are disappointed by your not appearing in that circle of society in which they expected you to move; and are mortified by the satirical remarks which your religious profession has provoked; but time will soften down these asperities of feeling, and they will eventually tolerate what they may never be disposed to sanction."
"But what ought I to do? Am I to sacrifice my religious principles to parental solicitation? I have been advised to do so, as obedience to parents is a cardinal virtue of Christianity. It is a virtue which ought to live in the heart of every child; yet I feel I cannot give it that form of expression which they wish. It is this that aggravates my sorrow. I love them, I revere them, I would sacrifice my health and my life to please them; but I cannot, I dare not sacrifice my conscience."