"Your aunt," said Mr. Guion, as he was bidding adieu to Miss Roscoe, "has a rich vein of satire imbedded in her mental stratum."
"True, Sir, but I believe there is a new formation progressing, of more sterling worth; a discovery made very recently."
"Indeed! This is joyful intelligence. Such discoveries are made by angelic spirits, who care nought about any other formations of our earth; and when made, they kindle into celestial rapture."
"And we can participate in their joy."
"Your papa," said Mrs. John Roscoe to her niece, as they were promenading in the garden, "is a powerful reasoner; his arguments seem to me quite irresistible."
"He is," my dear aunt, "a spiritually enlightened man; and he not only understands what he believes, but he feels its power."
"Alas!" my dear Sophia, "I feel dark and bewildered; and I know not what to do to gain mental peace. O how I long for some rays of that celestial light which has illumined his mind and yours. The incipient thoughts of my heart, which have long been nestling there, are becoming powerful convictions; and force me to believe that there is a reality in our common faith, which you and your father have discovered, but which we have not."
"The Lord, I trust," dear aunt, "is beginning in your soul the great good work, which will issue in your eternal salvation."
"What makes you think so?"
"I think so because your spirit, which has long remained dormant, and comparatively insensible under the repressing and benumbing influence of Tractarian delusions, is now stirring within you; struggling into newness of life; acquiring the moral sense of spiritual perception and feeling; craving after spiritual nourishment and consolation; willing to yield itself to God, to be renovated, redeemed, and sanctified; and to walk with him. These are unmistakeable signs."